Free The Long Way Home by Mariah Stewart Page B

point—
What do you think, Mom? A nice cream would show off the dishes quite nicely
—but for now, she merely wiped them, permitting them time to dry before replacing the turquoise, green, yellow, and pink dishes. There were several pieces of mismatched china, and these she wrapped in the newspaper she’d found the decoys in, and put them in a box she’d found in one of the bedroom closets. Perhaps Nita, the antiques dealer she’d met that morning, mighthave some thoughts on the age and quality of those pieces.
    Next, to vary the view, Ellie tackled the cupboards below the counter. There were several old pots and pans, none of which matched the others, but she supposed that the concept of matching sets of pots might have come at a date later than the one on which Miss Lilly’s housekeeping commenced. She set them all out on the counter to see what she had and what she might actually use. There was a large stockpot; maybe she’d make soup one of these days, so that was a keeper. She found several black cast-iron pans at the back of the top shelf, and while she wasn’t sure what she’d use them for, she knew that reproductions were very popular right now and sold in some of the better housewares stores, so they—along with a griddle—made the cut. Besides, she thought as she washed the smaller of the two cast-iron frying pans, they just looked cool and old-timey, as if they belonged in the old house.
    Had her mother cooked when she was here? Ellie had vague recollections of Lynley making breakfast or dinner but only when her father was away. He liked having a professional cook live in, and once he’d hired someone, Lynley practically never made so much as a cup of tea when he was around. But when Clifford was away—that was a different story. Even now, if she closed her eyes she could taste—smell—grilled cheese sandwiches and homemade tomato soup.
    Where had that memory come from?
    There’d been a time when she was home on a schoolholiday—Christmas, maybe?—when Lynley arrived from her latest photo shoot two full days before Clifford returned from a business trip. Lynley had given the surprised cook those two extra days off and had spent what to Ellie’s mind had been forty-eight glorious hours at home, just the two of them. They’d baked Christmas cookies and drunk hot chocolate while watching a marathon of holiday movies together:
The Muppets Christmas
and
The Christmas Toy
, and
Miracle on 34th Street. A Claymation Christmas
and
A Christmas Story
and
It’s a Wonderful Life
. Having two whole days with her mother had been the best present Ellie could have received, and she’d cherished the memory of Lynley singing along with Burl Ives while
Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer
played on the TV that was built into the kitchen wall so the cook could watch her soaps in the afternoon.
    Dear God, that seemed so long ago.
Was
so long ago.
    She wondered if her mother had baked cookies here, made hot chocolate and grilled cheese sandwiches to share with Lilly.
    She pushed the past aside and forced herself to focus on the pots and pans that were in the cabinets.
    There was a large pot that had a wire contraption that fit inside it and a lid. She had absolutely no idea what it could be used for. She added it to the closet where she’d stacked things to ask Nita about.
    The doorbell rang, so she dried her hands and went tentatively to the front door. From the living room window she could see her visitor. Jesse Enright’sfiancée—Brooke?—stood on the step with something in her hands.
    Damn
.
    Ellie debated whether or not to answer the door. Finally, she opened it, feigning surprise to see Brooke.
    “Hey, Brooke,” she said as pleasantly as she could.
    “Ellie, I’m embarrassed that it took meeting you this morning to remind me that I hadn’t stopped over to welcome you to St. Dennis.” Brooke handed her a plate that was covered with aluminum foil.
    “Oh, Brooke, you didn’t have to.…” Ellie protested