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“Yeah, it is.” She glances around at our lush green surroundings. “You’ll love the place where we are holding the service for Mom.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” I tell her, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you made it home in time to see her.”
“She knew she was dying and had been waiting to see me.” A sad look washes across her face. “She was so nice to me last night and we talked about things that had been kept secret for my entire life. She even told me that she loved me.” In spite of the sunglasses, I can see tears instantly appear in the corner of her eyes.
“That’s good.” I caress the back of her neck, not really knowing what else to say.
“You don’t understand how big that was. She hadn’t said that to me since I was a little girl.” She looks at me in disbelief as a tear rolls down her cheek.
“My dad was the same way. I maybe remember him saying it two or three times, but I always knew he cared about us,” I reply, thinking back on my own experiences. “Even though he normally showed it by being a total hard ass.” I flash her a half-hearted smile.
“Mom wasn’t that way, she always just seemed indifferent. Even when I would give her a hug, she never really hugged me back. She would just kind of stand there like she was waiting for it to end,” she explains as we reach the Lynchburg city limits.
“I got a room at some bed and breakfast,” I tell her, pulling up my phone to recall the name of the place.
“You can stay with us.” She shoots me a look of disapproval. “We have plenty of room.”
“I thought it might be a little awkward with your dad,” I confess.
“If he’s uncomfortable, that’s his fault, not yours,” she says with a brief burst of feistiness.
“Well, let’s stop and check me in and we can decide later on.” I add, since I was actually thinking that it would be uncomfortable for me. I wasn’t really concerned about his discomfort. “Oh, did you get those letters sent?” I say, changing the subject.
“I stopped at FedEx on my way to the airport.” She reassures me with a wink.
“Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.” I reach over and place my hand on hers.
As we come to an older, stately neighborhood lined with big old houses with those magnificent southern porches, I can tell we must be getting close to our destination. We swing up in front of a big, white one with four big columns on the front porch and two more on the right side. Mandy slams on the brakes, skidding up to the curb, nearly throwing me out of my seat. “This baby still stops as good as it takes off!” she says before opening her door and hopping out.
After walking across the well-worn floorboards of the porch, the creaking of the screen door announces our arrival. A gray-haired woman with a tight bun and thick black-framed glasses comes out to greet us. “Hello, I’m Peggy,” she says, reaching out to shake my hand.
“Hi Peggy, I’m Trey and this is Mandy,” I reply giving her a smile. “Is this your place?”
“It is,” she replies in a chipper voice. “After the kids were grown up and my husband passed, I needed to fill this house back up,” she explains as she leads us up a grand old staircase and down the hallway to a large bedroom. Like most homes that were built more than a century ago, there are plenty of creaks that go along with all the unique, intricate woodwork and beautiful hardwood floors.
“This place is beautiful,” Mandy comments, ignoring all the creaks and groans.
“Thank you, dear,” Peggy replies, opening the door to my room. “I hope you will find this to your liking. It’s the only one with a private bathroom.”
“It looks great,” I tell her, handing her a hundred dollar bill.
“I’ll just put the room on your credit card,” she says looking a bit bewildered.
“No, that’s for you,” I tell her with a smile.
“For what? All I did was show you to your room?” she continues, trying to hand the bill back to me.
“Just in appreciation for what I expect will be an enjoyable stay,” I explain to her. “I’ll make sure you earn it.” I smile and give her a wink.
“He’s used to staying at fancy hotels where you have to tip everyone,” Mandy adds, noticing that Peggy is not understanding my gesture. “He doesn’t understand southern hospitality, yet.”
“Well, if you need anything at all you just let me know,” the lady says, laying the bill on the corner of the bed before departing. “I’ll be up until eleven or so.”
