Read Online Here With Me by Beverly Long - Free Book Online Page B

closely. It was her right to grieve
without these two intruding. “I’m going to get our things from the
car,” she said.
    Before she could barely move, George was
standing next to her. People were popping up like
jack-in-the-boxes. “I’ll carry them,” he said.
    “Your old room is ready,” Grandmother said.
“If you don’t mind, while you’re unpacking, I think I’ll lie down
for a while.”
    The grandmother she’d known would have
suggested a walk through the fields or a trip into town. It made
her realize how life had changed, and she was grateful that she’d
made the decision to come home, that she hadn’t had to disappoint
the woman. “I’ll see you later,” Melody promised. “After I show
George around.”
    “That would be fine, honey.” Her grandmother
stood, more sedately than everyone else had. “I’m so happy to have
you here. We all are.”
    Melody doubted that Louis or Tilly shared her
grandmother’s sentiments but she refused to let it bother her.
She’d keep out of their way as long as they kept out of hers.
    On her way through the foyer, Melody grabbed
her keys from the entranceway table. She reached for the door but
George, hot on her heels, reached around her and opened the door
for her.
    He was way too nice for this family.
    “I tried to tell you,” she said as they
walked outside.
    He shrugged and didn’t look overly concerned.
“Bernard and your uncle Louis don’t seem particularly fond of one
another.”
    “It’s been that way for years,” she said. She
pressed the trunk-release button on her key ring. The trunk sprang
open and George stopped abruptly and grabbed for her hand. Heat
streaked up her arm.
    “What?” She turned and looked at him. He was
staring at the trunk, like he half expected a monster to
emerge.
    “How. . .” his voice trailed off.
    “How much stuff?” she finished his question,
wanting to be helpful. “Not that much. Two suitcases, a box of
books, and another box of miscellaneous. Come on,” she said, and
attempted to pull him forward.
    It was like a hungry ant trying to carry home
a slice of bread. Too little against way too much.
    “George? What’s wrong?”
    He shook his head.
    “Are we going to get my stuff?”
    “Sure.” He started walking but he didn’t let
go of her hand. When they were three feet from the car, he moved
fast, stepping in front of her, placing himself between her and the
trunk.
    Oh good grief. What was his problem?
    “Let me,” he said, reaching into the
trunk.
    “If you can get both suitcases, I can carry
the books and the other box,” she said.
    “No,” he said. “You shouldn’t be lifting,” he
added, his tone a little gentler.
    She wondered who he thought had loaded all
the stuff into the trunk. “Oh, fine. Can I at least carry that?”
She pointed at Sarah’s photograph, which she’d wrapped in a brown
sack from the grocery store. “It’s very light, I promise.”
    Before she could move, he’d reached into the
trunk and pulled out the sack. He held it in his hands a minute
longer than necessary and suddenly, as odd as it seemed, a whiff of
pine floated past her.
    “Do you smell that?” she asked.
    He frowned at her. “What?”
    She grabbed for the photograph. “Never mind.”
She was losing her marbles. She walked around the car to open the
passenger-side door.
    “I’ll get my camera,” he said, coming up fast
behind her. He reached around her, grabbed the box, and slung the
strap over his shoulder. Then he walked back to the trunk, hauled
both suitcases out, and picked up one with each hand.
    They were halfway to the house when the door
opened and Tilly walked outside. Melody prepared herself for
another smart remark but Tilly just brushed past them. When they
got to the door, Melody turned around and saw that Tilly was
checking the mailbox.
    She led George directly to her room on the
second floor. Grandmother hadn’t changed it much in the last couple
of years. The walls were painted a