“I suppose you’re right.” Neva’s sigh seemed to come from the depths of her soul.
“Oh, hi. Welcome back.” Marion’s greeting drew Liddy’s attention to the door.
“Dylan, hello.” Neva’s smile was warm and wide as she greeted the young man. “We were just talking about ordering books for your class.”
“Hi, Ms. Kreger.” Head down, and seeming to be surprised to see his teacher there, he nodded first to Neva and then to Liddy before he made for the back of the shop. He sat in the usual chair—Grace’s story time chair—and opened his backpack, took out a notebook, and began to read.
“Dylan’s one of my favorite students. Everyone on the faculty loves him,” Neva confided. “He has such a quick mind. He’s earning straight As in all-AP classes, and they say he’s one of the best athletes we’ve had at Regional High since . . . well, since . . .”
“Since Brett Crawford?”
“That’s what they tell me, but I only know what I’ve heard. I’m not into athletics, I’m afraid.”
“Brett was in my class,” Liddy explained. “He was drafted by the Seattle Seahawks and played something like five seasons before he was injured.”
“Then that’s who they were talking about in school.”
“Dylan looks a little light to be a football player,” Liddy observed.
“Oh, no, he plays baseball. He was all-state last year, and they say he’s a shoo-in for this year as well. There are several colleges interested in him, and we’re positive he can get enough financial aid that he can go to a top school. No question, the sky’s the limit for that boy.”
“So are you saying his parents can’t afford for him to go to college?”
Neva’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Well, it’s no secret since it’s been in all the papers. His parents were involved in that armed robbery over in New Bedford in July.”
“The liquor store robbery?” Liddy searched her memory for details. “Three robbers, one shooter?” Her eyebrows raised. “One of his parents was the shooter?”
“No. Dylan’s uncle, his father’s brother, was the shooter, but because someone was badly injured, they faced the same charges. They made a deal with the DA and got fifteen years each. If the victim had died, it would have been a lot worse.”
“Oh, that poor kid. Does he have family? Who is he living with?”
“The family’s from Pike Creek, but he’s staying with his grandmother here in Wyndham Beach.”
“Oh, thank goodness he has someone.” The amount of time Dylan spent in the bookshop was beginning to make sense. Surely it’d been hard for him to get used to living with an older relative. “Was he close to his grandmother before he moved in with her?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think maybe not. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, or her. I don’t wish to pry, of course, and certainly it’s understandable if he just doesn’t want to discuss his family. It has to have been devastating for him.”
“What’s his grandmother’s name?”
“I think it’s Linden. Margaret Linden. We all received notice when he moved.”
Liddy frowned. She thought she knew everyone in Wyndham Beach, but Margaret Linden rang no bells. “Do you know what street she lives on?”
“Something Terrace. Devon, maybe? It wasn’t a street I knew, so I’m guessing it’s one of those new cul-de-sacs in that town house development on the other side of Route Six.”
“As long as he has someone responsible looking after him,” Liddy said. Not that it was any of her business. “Well, I’ll let you wander around and see if something catches your eye.”
“I’m sure I’ll find something.” Neva wandered to the new releases, then found her way to the cozy mysteries.
Liddy went back to the counter and turned on the iPad.
“Let’s see what Rosalita’s up to today,” she said to no one in particular. Evelyn had come in minutes before, and Marion was getting ready to leave. Both women came to the counter to see where Liddy’s shark was at that moment.
“She’s smart to be heading south,” Evelyn said as she buttoned up her cardigan in preparation for heading out. “It can turn cool here on a dime. I heard we’re in for another cold, snowy winter this year.”
“And that would be different from every other year, how?” Liddy asked.
Grace popped in to let Liddy know she’d found the first appearance of the little house on official town records.
“The earliest record I could find was on an 1843 map. Older than most of the other houses in that section of town,” Grace announced.
“Can you find out who built it?” Liddy asked.
“No. The map had Robert Butler’s name next to the house. Robert spelled Rbrt.”
“Huh. There used to be a family named Butler on Roslyn Road. My grandmother used to play cards with a woman named Edith Butler. That’s probably the same family.”
“When you look at the early maps together, you can see where lots were sold off over the years. When the parcel of land your house sits on was sold, the little house—the original house—was included in the sale. Your house doesn’t appear until 1908.”
“That’s about right. Jim’s great-grandfather built it.” Liddy smiled.
“At some point, the lots were separated, but I haven’t found when. Cool, huh?” Grace glanced at the back of the shop. “Oh, I see your boyfriend is here again, and it looks like he brought his mother. Grandmother, maybe?”
“Oh, no. That’s Neva Kreger. She teaches English at the high school. Jessie had her two years in a row. She adored her. All the kids do.” Liddy hadn’t noticed when Neva pulled the other wingback chair closer to Dylan’s, but it appeared they were deep in conversation.
“Well, I’m going to head over to the house that will hopefully be mine someday soon,” Grace said.
Liddy smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry. The little house will be yours very soon, and then you can order all the tile and appliances your little heart desires.”
Grace laughed and headed out. Before she reached the door, Liddy said, “Hey, Grace, did you eat the pizza cold, or did you give it a turn or two in the microwave?”
Grace stopped, her hand on the door, and turned to Liddy. “What pizza?”
Chapter Eleven
As she turned the corner onto Jasper Street, Grace was humming “Happy,” timing her steps with the beat, occasionally singing a word or two out loud. Even the threat of imminent rain didn’t dampen her cheery mood. Up ahead, on her left, was her destination, her someday-soon-to-be home. Soon, she wryly acknowledged, was a relative term. Hopefully, Gretchen was as good at her job as Liddy claimed, and she’d manage to streamline the transaction.
Grace was eager for the work to begin, but since Linc had indicated he’d be busy on another job for a few more weeks, she figured it didn’t so much matter she didn’t actually own the place yet. Besides, she had work to do before Linc could get started. There were so many things the house needed—cabinets and bathroom fixtures, light fixtures, everything that goes into building a house. And this was almost like building a new house, since nothing presently in the building would remain once the renovation began.