You Knew Me When (12 page)

“Oh, hello, Grant.” Luella opened the sliding door, wearing a gauzy white dress that—against her bronzed skin—made her look like a movie star. He moved away from me, and the towel dropped.

“Sorry.” I grabbed it and wrapped it around me again.

“Ready to make that pie, darling?” Luella smiled regally. “You're welcome to join us, Grant.”

“That's okay. I have a game in an hour.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I'm gonna run. I'll, uh, see you later, Kitty.”

“Yeah, bye. And, um, thank you.”

“Sure.” He ran back toward his house.

“Pie time?” I turned to Luella.

“Kitty Hill.” She grinned knowingly.

“What?”

“I'd say that boy fancies you.”

S
he'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to impede her mind from sprinting through the past. The sprinting part was habitual for Katherine. It was the way she lived her life, always moving at warp speed, from dawn until dusk and then continuing into the wee hours. But it was typically work, work, work. And then more work. Nothing personal about it. This was different, more stressful in a way. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought of Laney or Grant in the past twelve years. There had definitely been times when one memory or another had been triggered by something unexpected, but she hadn't dwelled on it. As far as she'd been concerned, the past was the past, and whether it had ended well or not, it simply wasn't her life anymore.

How could she explain to Laney—a woman who'd rarely left the town where she was born and bred, save for an infrequent vacation—that she was no longer that awkward girl who'd grown up two houses down? She was someone important now. Someone people listened to in board meetings. Someone they cowered from in the hallways. And someone they whispered about when she exited the ladies' room.

Once Katherine had returned to Vermont and been abruptly reunited with Laney, she'd expected Grant's name would surface eventually. And it was pretty clear from their conversation at the Falcon Bar that Laney had been waiting for the opportunity to bring him up. But did she have to be so visibly pleased with herself? Perhaps Laney did have good reason to be upset with her. She'd give her that. It wasn't like she'd been entirely innocent herself, though. There'd been a window of repentance all those years ago. It had been a small window, admittedly, but Laney hadn't been willing to open it even a crack. The light breeze that had been Katherine's remorse had been stifled. After that, she'd given up, justifying her own behavior every which way possible. The pain had been profound at first; for months she'd wavered on her decision. She'd gone from a college senior with a part-time internship to help pay off her student loans to a round-the-clock, entry-level workhorse for a titanic cosmetics conglomerate. Sometimes two weeks went by, one day disappearing into the next, without her having time to think about the world she'd left behind, much less sleep more than two or three hours a night. Other times, one hour at her desk felt like a life sentence, and she'd allow herself, even if for a fleeting moment, to consider exchanging the bright future everyone said she had for a train ticket back to Vermont. Back to her father, Laney, and Luella. But mostly back to Grant. Then a stack of papers would hit her desk like a wakeup call, and she'd push these reminiscences farther and farther into the comfort of obscurity.

Katherine parked her rental car in Luella's driveway, took a deep breath, and let herself out. She was uncharacteristically dressed down in tailored, dark-wash blue jeans and another of her many cashmere sweaters, this one a muted oatmeal shade. She'd gone light on the makeup, left her jewelry in the safe at the hotel, and had even worn flat ballet slippers. So what if they were Prada? Seeing as Laney's animosity had been palpable, to say the least, during their last two encounters, Katherine had decided to give her as little fodder as possible now that they were going to be working together, or at least in the same vicinity, for the better part of a week. She walked up the stone path toward the front door.
How many times,
she mused,
have I walked up this very path?
Now, though, the stones were cracked, even broken in half in a couple places. And the abundant landscaping was no longer. Once upon a time, Luella had been famous for her extensive and meticulously maintained gardens. Her front lawn had been bursting with pink peonies, yellow tulips, purple roses, white chrysanthemums, red coral bells, and, Katherine's personal favorite, the pink and red bleeding hearts with their long, arching stems and heart-shaped blooms.

She fished the key the lawyer had given her from her purse and turned it in the lock, which was corroded, as was the gold-plated doorbell. She had to force the door open, pushing it in with the side of her body. If the decrepit facade was any indication of the shape of the interior, she and Laney were in trouble. But, really, how bad could it be? Luella had always been a stickler for perfection, one of the many things Katherine had absorbed from her mentor. Immediately, she had her answer. It wasn't bad. It was a disaster. The air was thick with dust, and papers and trinkets were strewn about as if a tornado had gutted the interior. Some of the furniture was stained and tattered. And Luella's vast chandelier with its rainstorm of crystals, which had once presided over the marble entrance hall, was now splayed on the floor in the center of what could only be described as mass chaos. Katherine swallowed a lump in her throat and, sidestepping all the crap, made her way from room to room on the first floor, unable to digest the enormity of the situation. Had Luella lived this way in her last days? When she'd finally had the chance to grill her father about Luella's death and the unique stipulations in her will, he'd divulged only scant details, swearing up and down that he didn't know any more. She, he'd said, had been found resting peacefully in her bed that day by a friend who checked in on her regularly. Clearly, Luella had fired her housekeeper long before that. He'd also confirmed what Katherine had already presumed, that Luella had opted to be cremated. There was no way, Katherine knew, that Luella would allow her physical beauty to decompose in a coffin underground for however long it took to go from flesh and bones to worm food. She knew because she wouldn't either.

Katherine half expected Luella to appear from around the corner, as she often did, keeping the girls on their toes. She was desperate to see her one last time, to tell her how she'd changed her life, how'd she set her on the right path to becoming the woman she was today—for what that was worth. Now she was also desperate to ask her what had happened. How had her once-immaculate home, which had gleamed from corner to corner, disintegrated into such disarray? Had she gone mad? The lawyer had indicated repeatedly that Luella was of sound mind until the very end. Perhaps he'd seen the condition of the house and had felt compelled to explain the unexplainable in advance.

“Holy shit.”

Katherine jumped, startled by the company. She turned around to find Laney standing in front of her, with the same staggering expression she'd donned only moments earlier.

“I know.” Katherine watched Laney take it all in. She was still as beautiful as always without a trace of makeup or a brush run through her tangle of blond curls. There was a time when Katherine had been desperate for those curls, cursing her genetics for the heavy black mop that hung flaccidly atop her head.

“This is a complete shit storm.” Laney picked up a dirty, crumpled piece of paper, holding it out in front of her between her thumb and forefinger, and then dropped it back onto the floor. “What the fuck happened?” She tiptoed around the chandelier in her faded carpenter jeans, white Converse sneakers, and gray UVM hoodie.

“I have no idea, but we certainly have our work cut out for us.” Katherine crossed her arms. “We need a plan of attack.”

“Rick said he can help with anything that needs fixing and a fresh paint job.” Laney glanced at Katherine. “He's a contractor.”

“That's convenient.” Katherine followed Laney into the kitchen, where they'd spent countless hours playing cards and partaking in Luella's extravagant high teas. “I think we need to deal with getting all this crap organized. We'll throw out whatever's junk, and then I'd suggest we devote one room to gathering everything we want to sell or donate. Probably the foyer, since it's closest to the door.”

“I know a woman who can organize an estate sale for us.”

“Great. Then we can hire a cleaning service and get Rick in here to fix up and paint. And we'll be done.” Katherine clapped her hands, rubbing them together like she was ready to dive in.

“You make it sound easy.” Laney opened the refrigerator and slammed it shut. “Holy fuck. I think something died in there.” She wriggled her whole body. “Blah.”

“Well, I wouldn't say it's going to be easy, but at least we know what we have to do. Deal with the crap, and leave the rest of the work to the professionals. Obviously, we'll need to hire a Realtor when all's said and done, so we can sell this place.” Katherine smiled. “I hope the next people love this house the way we did.”

“Yeah, me too.” Laney met Katherine's gaze for a moment and then looked away. “I have garbage bags in my car.”

“Excellent. Let's pick a place to start.” Katherine was pleasantly surprised to find that Laney wasn't nearly as prickly as she had been the last two times they'd been together.

“I'll take the kitchen.”

“Should we just do it together?” Katherine suggested optimistically.

“No, you can pick another room.” Laney didn't give it a second thought.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“It'll be so much more efficient if we conquer each room together.”

“Maybe so, but I told you I don't want to work with you.”

“This is so ridiculous.” Katherine rolled her eyes. “We're two grown adults.”

“It's not ridiculous to me.” Laney shrugged.

“Stop being immature.” Katherine regretted the words as soon as they escaped her lips.

“
Immature
?” Laney's hands were on her hips. “Excuse me, Kitty, but we're not best friends anymore. We're not even friends. We're in this situation and that's fine, but it doesn't mean we're going to bond.”

“I'm not saying we have to bond. I'm just saying we could try to work together peacefully in the name of getting things done as quickly as possible.”

“I said no.” Laney was firm.

“Fine. Whatever. I'll take the living room to start. But I'm only here for a week, so I hope we can get it done.”

“I hope so too.”

•   •   •

The
next eight hours flew by in a whirlwind of surveying, organizing, and tidying. Katherine and Laney worked separately, calling out to each other sporadically with a question about a document or trinket or piece of furniture—whether or not it was worth keeping. On the two occasions Katherine had gone into the kitchen to check on things, Laney had just ignored her until finally looking up and hostilely barking, “What?”

Fortunately, neither the kitchen nor the living room held many of Luella's personal items, so it was easy enough to weed through things without too much sentiment. Eventually, Katherine knew, they'd come to Luella's den and her bedroom, the two places reserved for special items such as family photos, books, significant pieces of jewelry, and her many gowns and furs. Katherine wasn't looking forward to it, and she hoped, as unlikely as it may be, that Laney would come around by then, at least enough to join forces in space, if not conversation. At some point during the middle of the day, Laney had gone out to pick up lunch. She had yelled out only, “I'm heading out for a sandwich” to Katherine, not offering to grab anything for her, not that she'd have eaten a sandwich. Laney was making her point loud and clear and, frankly, Katherine was getting a little irritated by the whole production. Normally she didn't care if people didn't like her; God knows there were plenty. But with Laney it irked her. Why hadn't time softened her even a little? Surely she'd had more pressing things to do than sit around and simmer about Katherine for over a decade. More than that, though, Katherine still couldn't understand why Laney felt like she'd been the only one wronged. Hadn't
she
really been the selfish one, trying to hold Katherine back to satisfy her own needs? If Laney's attitude didn't improve, Katherine wasn't sure how long she'd be able to remain the nice guy. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't tolerate this behavior from anyone.

“You made a lot of headway.” Laney appeared in the doorway to the living room. “The kitchen is pretty much empty too.” She still had a scowl on her face, though her fists were no longer balled in Katherine's presence.

“Two rooms down, fourteen to go, if you count bathrooms.” Katherine exhaled, standing up and dusting herself off before Luella's doorbell sounded its familiar chime. “I wonder who that could be.”

“I wonder.” Laney grinned mischievously and practically skipped through the foyer to answer it. Katherine followed, ready to call it a day and head back to the Equinox for a long, hot bubble bath.

“Who is it?” she asked, as soon as Laney had cracked the front door.

“Hey, I know I'm early. My last job went faster than I thought.” Katherine had only to hear his voice to know. If there had been an escape route, she would have taken it, but there was nothing she could do now except stand there, paralyzed by panic, her mouth and hands quivering involuntarily.

“No worries. We're just finishing up.” Laney smiled giddily and gave her brother a hug, closing the door behind him. Katherine cleared her throat unwittingly, and Grant turned around, an expression of profound shock on his face.

“Kitty. Wow, uh, you . . .”

“Um, hi.” Katherine scratched at nothing on the back of her neck and then wiped nothing off her jeans. She licked her parched lips and bit the lower one.

“Uh, this is . . .”

“Awkward. Sorry. I didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I didn't know . . .”

“Oh, did I forget to mention it?” Laney feigned innocence, and Grant shot her a dirty look.

“I'd say so.” Katherine smiled uncomfortably.

“He's going to help us sell the house when we're done. I told you he's in real estate,” Laney declared a little defensively. Katherine nodded.

Grant looked good. Unbelievable, actually. He was still tall and slender, but his once-boyish physique had transformed into a strong and substantial man's body. His dirty blond hair had darkened to a rich chestnut, setting off his incisive blue eyes. And she even noticed a five o'clock shadow, which really suited him. Of all the times she'd imagined bumping into Grant over the years, and there had certainly been a few despite it being completely improbable, the one thing she had not imagined was looking like a slob. Katherine straightened her posture and regained what little composure she had left. “I have to get going.”