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By Root 392 0

passage of one vehicle at a time. The houses were all bungalow-style one-and-one-half-story structures dating from the early 1900s, some with enclosed porches, all with narrow driveways and cement walks leading the short distance from front steps to the street. Adam made a slow right into the drive of a small shingle house that was identical to those on either side except for the fact that its cedar shakes remained their original brown, while the house to the left had been painted white, and the one on the right had been recently re-sided with a cream-colored vinyl. There were hydrangeas and azaleas in bloom beside the open porch, and cement urns at the base of the steps were crowded with pansies. White curtains hung at every window, and in the doorway stood a plumpish woman who looked to be in her mid-seventies.

“Hi, Gran!” Adam called to her as he got out of the car.

“How in the world does a big boy like you fit into that little bitty car?” The old woman stepped out onto the porch, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I just fold myself up, and slide in.” He waited for Kendra, then took her elbow, whispering, “Ah, by the way, she thinks you’re my girlfriend.”

“Why did you tell her that?” Kendra murmured, smiling at the woman who had moved to the top step.

“It was that or tell her I’m trying to keep you out of the clutches of a serial killer.”

“You couldn’t have just said we were friends?” She nodded.

“No one around here would believe that.”

She was about to ask why not, when his grandmother called a greeting from the porch. They had reached the end of the walk and Adam dropped her arm to take the steps two at a time and embrace his grandmother.

“You look wonderful, Gran.” He kissed her soundly on the cheek.

“Thank you, son, so do you.” She patted the sides of his face with her hands, all the while peering over his shoulder to get a better look at the young woman who’d accompanied her only grandson on this trip home.

“Gran, this is Kendra Smith.” Adam draped an arm over his grandmother’s shoulder. “Kendra, this is my grandmother, Alice McGovern.”

“Good to meet you, Mrs. McGovern.” Kendra flashed her best smile.

“Good to meet you as well.” Adam’s grandmother smiled back. “Now, come in, come in. I thought we’d have time for tea before we go over to Kelly’s.”

Alice McGovern opened the door and waited for them to enter the dark, cool foyer.

“Come on back to the kitchen”—Mrs. McGovern bustled past her visitors—“the water is all ready. And I made some of those raspberry cookies you love, Adam.”

“Gran, do you think we have time for tea?”

Alice turned and glared at her grandson.

“Oh, right.” Adam nodded. “Tea it is.”

Kendra followed into a small, all-white kitchen that was surprisingly modern and equipped with all new appliances.

“I had to hide them from Alex and Melanie, of course, those two buggers are always into my pantry.”

“Alex and Melanie are my sister’s kids,” Adam explained. “They live a half-dozen doors down on the opposite side of the street, which is where the wedding is going to be.”

“They stay here after school until Kelly or her husband, Scott, gets home from work, whoever gets home first gets the kids. They’re only here for two hours or so in the afternoon, but they do keep me moving. I spend my days resting up for three o’clock when the school bus lets them off.”

The entire time Alice McGovern spoke, she was in motion, albeit somewhat slow motion, pouring tea into the teapot and then into the cups that had already been arranged on the kitchen table, set for tea for three, with porcelain cups and saucers and matching plates.

“Adam, you pull that chair out for your lady friend and show your manners,” she instructed.

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, then held a chair out for her as well, and remained standing until both women were seated.

“Now, then, we can have a nice little chat and get acquainted before we go to the wedding.” Mrs. McGovern nodded. “Kendra, Adam tells me you’re an artist.”

“A sketch artist, yes.”

“Lovely.” Alice passed Kendra the plate of fruit-filled sandwich cookies with hands