Two-Part Harmony

“At least she’s with Grandpa and Dad now.” Kelly glanced around the kitchen and noticed the pans of cookies, pastries and several loaves of bread. She frowned at the bounty of sweet treats. “You’re not planning on opening the Sweetheart tomorrow, are you?”

Megs looked surprised to see all the baked goods there. “Huh. Guess I got carried away. This is all for the funeral home. I figured people might want a little something sweet.”

Kelly guessed with all the food her sister had baked, people could stuff themselves on dough and sugar for the next week and there would still be leftovers. She pointed toward the lump of kneaded dough on the table top. “More bread?”

Her sister patted the doughy mound. “This? It’s a new recipe I’m trying.” She nudged an old ledger book towards Kelly. “Grammy gave this to me about a week ago. She said they’re family recipes that were handed down to Pop Pop from his mother and generations before him. Grammy called them special. That I’d know when I was ready for them.” Her sister’s eyes were watery as she opened the ledger and located a recipe near the front. “See? Her handwriting says this bread is good to comfort those in their grief.” She shrugged. “I thought, why not? There’s going to be a lot of people who’ll need comforting the next few days.”

Grammy had been a cornerstone of the community for so long that Kelly couldn’t imagine the hole she was going to leave in everyone’s lives. She’d already left one in her own chest, so why not the entire town’s? Kelly paused. “Did you call everybody? Do you need me to do anything?”

“Everybody in town knew as soon as the ambulance arrived at the house. The small town grapevine still works.” Megs gave a deep sigh. “And I called Aunt Lillian’s daughters to let them know, too. Grammy didn’t have much family left. We’re what’s left of her blood.”

Kelly shuddered. Grammy’s sister Lillian had two daughters who had terrorized their dad when he’d been young, if you could believe the stories he’d shared. Being the only child of two bakers, Dad had struggled with a weight issue most of his life. And Lillian’s daughters had never let him forget it. Granted, they were forty years older now. And they had families of their own.

Megs rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you mind if we take a little break? I need to let the dough rise. I can go over with you what we still have to do for the funeral.”

The sisters settled at one of the tables in the front room with a legal-sized notepad and one of the pink pens that advertised the bakery and its phone number. Kelly drew a couple of scribbles then looked up at her sister. “What about Mom? Did you call her yet?”

“Thought I’d leave that up to you. I can’t deal with her right now. Besides, I don’t know where she is at the moment.”

Kelly checked the time. “Last I talked to her, Florida. So it’s probably too late to phone tonight. I’ll call her tomorrow. Think she’ll come up for the funeral?” Megs gave her a nasty look. “You’re probably right. They didn’t exactly see eye to eye on things.”

“Except about Daddy. They both thought he hung the moon.” Megs stared at her dough. “I keep picturing him and Pop Pop waiting for Grammy when she arrived at the pearly gates. Welcoming her home.”

Kelly cleared her throat as tears threatened to clog it, making it difficult to take breathe. “Yeah. Me, too.” She wrote funeral plans at the top of the notepad and underlined the words. “Did Grammy ever talk about what she wanted at her funeral?”

“You know she didn’t like talking about things like that.”

Grammy hadn’t liked talking about anything uncomfortable or unpleasant. Death and what to do for her funeral topped that list. “I thought that maybe in her later years that—”

“Don’t.” Megs claimed the notepad from Kelly. “You don’t get to pretend that you know what she’d been thinking or feeling these days. You weren’t here.”

Ouch, that hurt a little. But she swallowed the bitterness and nodded. “I know. But I’m here now.” She held out the pen to her sister.

“A bit too late, don’t you think?” Her sister snatched the pen and wrote down a few lines, but crossed them out. And then burst into tears.

Kelly rose from her chair and gently put one arm around her sister’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Megs. Shhh, it’s going to be all right.” With her free hand, she stroked her blond hair, so much like her own, if shorter. They were alike even if they didn’t always admit it. “We can do this together.”

Megs buried her face, crying into Kelly’s jacket sleeve. “I can’t believe she’s gone. I miss her so much already.”

Kelly knelt and pulled her sister into her arms. Maybe Megs wasn’t as strong as she’d thought. She put her cheek on her sister’s head and cooed softly to her. “I know. I miss her, too.”

They clung to each other until the sobs subsided. Megs got up and retrieved a box of tissues. She held out the box, and Kelly took one and wiped at her eyes, then Megs returned to her seat and clutched several tissues in case she should need one again.

“Since you knew her best, I’ll go along with whatever you want,” Kelly told her.

Megs smiled. “She’d want you to sing, you know? Her favorite song.”

“Of course.”

Her sister wrote that down on the notepad. “I know people we can ask to be her pallbearers. Rick, Sam, some of our other regulars.” She wrote their names then looked up at Kelly. “Are you hungry? I didn’t think to ask when you got here.”

“I guess.”

Megs left her alone for a minute and then came back with a mini chocolate cake as well as two forks. “Grammy always said food was medicine to cure a hurting heart. This is one of her favorite recipes from the ledger.”

With an endorsement like that, Kelly couldn’t refuse. The dessert looked fabulous. Dark chocolate enrobed the tiny cake, and when she took a forkful, it revealed four layers of chocolate cake divided by three layers of pink raspberry mousse. Kelly placed the fork in her mouth and closed her eyes at the taste. It was rich, smooth and enticing. She chewed and let the flavors play on her tongue. The sweet chocolate, the tangy raspberry. “Oh my. Now that’s a cake.”

Megs watched her, eyebrows raised. “That good?”

“It’s better than good. What do you call it?”

“Grammy called it True Love’s Torte.”

Kelly took another bite. “Always the romantic. Probably believed you’d meet your soul mate within a day of eating it, huh?”

Megs nodded, and they both smiled faintly. The idea of Kelly meeting her soul mate in Lake Mildred was as likely as meeting the person who would make her dreams of a singing contract come true. She shook her head and took another bite of the cake. But it would be just like Grammy to make both of those things happen even from the grave.

They silently ate the cake, remembering the woman they both loved.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_6fb68660-2f3c-53cf-af47-f593312422c3)

KELLY OPENED ONE eye then another and peered around the bedroom. Purple exploded from every corner, and it took her a moment to realize where she was.

She turned over and looked into the face of Mr. Wiggles, a worn teddy bear who had been her first friend when she was a child. Had she gone back in time? She sat up and fingered the crocheted afghan that lay over her, a gift from Grammy after her father had died. Yes, she’d been transported to being fifteen once again. She snuggled under the covers and brought the edge of the blanket to her nose and sniffed. It smelled faintly of, well, of Grammy.

She wiped her eyes with the afghan. She had to get through the day somehow. Had to be strong. Had to keep moving forward, not just for herself and Megs, but for Grammy. She could almost hear her grandmother whispering, “You can do it.”

If only Grammy really knew.

Her cell phone on the nightstand beside the bed started to buzz and sing a country song. She stopped the alarm, then sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She thought about finding her old bathrobe, to cover up the nightshirt she’d put on before climbing into bed, but figured there wasn’t anything she had that her sister hadn’t seen before. She opened her old bedroom door and sniffed appreciatively at the scent of coffee climbing up the stairs.

As Kelly stepped into the kitchen, the coffeemaker gurgled its last gasps. She took a deep breath and walked to it, but froze when a man beat her to it. She jumped back and grabbed the toaster to defend herself if she had to. He was taller than her, but then it didn’t take much to tower over her own five foot two. And he was built, as in construction-guy built. The back of his flannel shirt strained across his shoulders. He turned and gave her a nod, then poured himself a mug of coffee. “Good morning.”

“That’s all you have to say after breaking into my grandmother’s home?” She raised the toaster higher, ready to take whatever action would be necessary to defend herself and her sister. It might have helped if she’d unplugged it first, so she reached over to do so. She’d taken a self-defense class years ago, and the advice that had been drilled into her repeated in her mind now, just in case she needed it.

He raised one dark eyebrow over his gray green eyes. “I didn’t break in.”

“Are you saying you used a key?” The man was delusional. Hot, yes, but definitely certifiable.

“Yes. Mine.” He dug into his front jean pocket and brought out a silver key ring with a familiar gold key hanging from it.

Grammy was giving out keys to strange men? She’d obviously missed a lot being gone all this time. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she put the toaster down. But she kept her eye on him as she poured her own cup of coffee and added cream and sugar to it. He grimaced. She looked down at the creamy color. “Problem?”

“Good coffee doesn’t need all that stuff. And this is good.” He saluted her with his mug.

She rolled her eyes and sipped from her mug. Steps behind her alerted her that Megs had joined them. “Oh, good. You’ve met,” her sister said.

She glared at Megs. “Who is this guy? He let himself in with his own key.”