father had gone to bed by the time I got home last night, so Robin’s happy secret was still safe.
We parked the car in front of the Frawley home just as Byron stepped out from behind the front gate. He was dressed in sweatpants and a fitted T-shirt and he looked good for an older guy, although the skin around his eyes was a little saggy. It made me wonder if he was getting any sleep at all. Had seeing Elaine yesterday kept him awake all night?
“Thanks again for your help, Becky,” he said, and gave Mom a kiss on the cheek. Then he turned and looked back at the house. “I’m not sure I could face it all by myself.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Mom said, clearly forgiving him for his strange behavior yesterday. “That’s what friends are for.”
He shook his head, apparently humbled by her words. “I swear there’s a special place in heaven for friends like you.”
“You’re a sweetie pie,” she said, smiling up at him.
A muscle tightened on his neck and he gritted his teeth. “Look, about yesterday, I should explain that—”
“There’s no need to say anything,” Mom said, holding up both hands to stop him.
“But I don’t want you to think—”
“I’m just happy you’re no longer fighting with anyone in Wanda’s family.”
“I’m happy, too,” he admitted, and a sheen of moisture appeared in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re a good man,” she said fiercely as she gripped his arm.
His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled heavily. “I don’t know about that. I feel a little ridiculous going to the gym while you’re here doing all this work.”
Mom smiled. “The workout will do you good.”
He grinned and patted his stomach. “In more ways than one, is that what you’re saying?”
We all laughed and Mom swatted his arm lightly. “You get out of here and enjoy your workout.”
“I will.”
“Will you be back soon?” I asked.
“A couple of hours, I guess.” He heaved the gym bag strap onto his shoulder. “See you later.”
“You have a good day,” I said, and Mom waved.
As Byron got into his car and drove off, we pushed through the gate and walked into the garden. Mom opened the front door, then pulled a fat stick of white sage from her pocket. “Today I’ve come prepared. After you pack up some more books, we’re going to have a cleansing ritual.”
“Okay,” I said, and rubbed my hands together. “And then we’ll explore the house.”
“That was some wild fun,” I said an hour later, as Mom finished what she called her Happy House Purification Chant.
“I think it worked.” She continued waving the smoldering sage in the air. Mom had decided that, even though Wanda’s house was kept spotlessly tidy, there had to be some psychic pockets of unhappiness and grief throughout. Why else would Wanda have committed suicide?
“I’ve really improved on this chant,” she said. “I think I’ll bring a drum next time so we can dance along.”
“Can’t wait for that, and I’m sure Wanda would appreciate it.” I glanced around, then pointed toward the hall. “I think it’s time to check out more of her world.”
“It couldn’t hurt to cleanse some sorrow from the rest of the rooms,” she said, and led the way, still waving the sage stick around as she moved forward.
The first room down the hall appeared to be a guest bedroom, but it was furnished as ornately as Napoleon’s suite in the Louvre museum. Golden tapestries hung from the walls and sparkling raw silk streamers flounced from the bedposts up to a gleaming gold chandelier hanging over the bed.
“Nice touch,” I said, staring up at what should have been a gaudy train wreck. But once again, thanks to Wanda’s clever artistry, the entire room had an old world sophistication about it.
Mom strolled around the small yet lavishly appointed space, waving her sage back and forth. Then we walked out and shut the door behind us.
The next door opened to reveal a spotlessly clean,
Learning to Kill: Stories