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An uneasy awareness settled in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the darkened tree line. Something told her that Jenna was near, but her sister hadn't made an appearance since this morning. Phoebe couldn't shake the image of Jenna standing on the sidewalk, blonde hair dripping, lips tinged blue. Her hollow eyes had peered right through Phoebe's very soul.
She finally pressed the lock button on her key fob. Not even her parents locked their vehicles living this far outside of town, but in the coming days, the entire town was about to know that Graveside Mysteries was investigating Jenna's death.
Given that Neal Hanson might have overheard some of Phoebe's conversation with Chief Bennett, tomorrow could potentially mean tonight. It was better not to take any chances regarding her parents, especially since she had Jenna's file locked up tight in the glove compartment.
Phoebe closed the distance to the wraparound porch, the old wood creaking familiarly under her boots. She wrapped her hand around the tarnished brass handle. She couldn't stop a smile from forming when the front door swung open with a faint squeak. That little squeal had gotten Jenna into trouble more than once.
Delicious scents of garlic, tomatoes, and melted cheese—her mom's famous lasagna—wafted through the air. Phoebe inhaled deeply as she stepped inside, relishing the warmth of the house. She shut the door behind her, sealing out the cold night air. She wished it was that easy to do with her anxiety over the upcoming confrontation.
From the kitchen, she could hear Chloe's voice, punctuated by her mom's soft laughter. Phoebe experienced a pang of regret, knowing full well that she was about to steal away what happiness had returned since Jenna's death.
Phoebe kicked off her boots and then unzipped her jacket, taking the time to hang it up in the front closet. She made sure to grab her phone out of her pocket before she closed the door. She then walked down the hall towards the living room.
Her father was sitting in his worn leather armchair facing the fireplace, just like she knew he would be. Embers popped and crackled every so many seconds, painting the room with a flickering dance of auburn hues. Her father wore his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he skimmed over what she presumed was one of the many assignments that he would need to grade over the coming weeks. The lighted display of the tablet must have been set on the brightest setting possible.
"Professor Burrow, I do believe that I've earned an A on my essay," Phoebe teased as she ducked into the living room first. She would eventually make it to the kitchen, but she would rather postpone her mother's disapproving stare for as long as possible. "How are you, Dad?"
"Getting too old to be spending my evenings grading papers," Kenneth replied with a tender smile, not meaning a word of what he had just uttered. He removed his reading glasses before rubbing his temple. "There is this new software the university is using that supposedly grades the essays so that I don't have to earn my salary. I'm pretty sure this new technology is a sign that it's time for me to collect my retirement."
She made her way across the soft carpet, taking a seat in the chair that was usually reserved for her mother. Phoebe took a moment to observe her dad as if she hadn't just seen him over the holidays.
Granted, Chloe lived above the yarn shop, but she usually drove to Phoebe's house on the other side of town. It wasn't that she deliberately stayed away from downtown, but she also didn't intentionally visit if she could avoid it. The bottom line was that she drove to her parents' house for dinner at least once a month, and then drove straight back home without stopping to visit anyone else.
"Do you really want to spend all your time at the yarn shop?" Phoebe asked with a playful smile. A part of her still wanted to somehow postpone her announcement, but that was all but impossible now. "You and I both know that's what would happen if you retired from teaching."
Her dad's hair had gone completely silver in the years since Jenna's death, though his beard retained streaks of its original chestnut brown. Frown lines creased his forehead as he mulled over her question. His response was to firmly perch his reading glasses back on his nose.
"That's what I thought," Phoebe said with a slight laugh. Another small wave of nausea hit her over the pain that she was about to cause her parents. "I should get into the kitchen before Mom takes out the garlic bread before the sides are crisp."
Her dad seemed to catch her reluctance, and he focused his gaze on her overtop his reading glasses. She stood and made her way out of the living room before he could ask her any questions.
"…the yarn around your finger like so," Lilith instructed, her voice firm as she guided Chloe in learning the art of crochet. "Not too taunt, but not too loose."
"Like this?"
"Very good, Chloe."
"Potholder?" Phoebe asked wryly as she walked across the hardwood floor of the kitchen to the refrigerator. She opened the door, not needing to scan the contents. She grabbed one of the bottles of beer from the lower shelf. Her mother would disapprove of the choice of beverage, but Phoebe needed something a little stronger than iced tea. "I'm thinking of painting my kitchen a light grey, so you should pick a color along those lines."
"Why is it that a potholder is always the first thing made?" Chloe asked with genuine curiosity as she concentrated on pulling the crochet hook back through the loop that she had just created with the first step. "Why not a scarf?"
"Simplicity and practice."
Phoebe and her mother had spoken at the same time. Phoebe was the only one to smile, but it quickly faded when her attempt to lighten the mood was ignored. Instead, she focused on the garlic bread. The sheet pan hadn't even made it to the oven yet, which meant that small talk had to be made for another eight to ten minutes.
"Did you see the new flower holder that I bought for your sister's tombstone?"
Phoebe could sense the weight of Chloe's stare. It was true that Phoebe had spent some time at the cemetery today. She had needed a private moment to weigh the consequences of her actions. She was about to turn her parents' lives upside down.
Her father would forgive her, though it might take some time.
Lilith Burrow?
The woman had never been understanding of Phoebe's emotional state. Lilith would no doubt claim that Phoebe was being selfish. The conversation would turn into a verbal disagreement until one of them said something hurtful. Nothing ever really changed between the two of them.
"I did see the flower holder, Mom. It's beautiful," Phoebe replied softly as she twisted the cap off the beer bottle. "I stopped at the flower shop earlier today, but Maude didn't have any sunflowers this time of year. I bought some white lilies instead."
Lilith stood at the oven with her back to them.
