Chapter 9
Brenda was relieved that she and her mother got to her house without incident. "Here we are," Brenda said cheerily.
"This is a cute house," her mother said as they walked up to the door.
"Be careful there," Brenda said, pointing to the loose cobblestone. "Gotta get that fixed."
Once inside, Brenda proudly showed her mother around. "Don't you just love it?" She didn't mention the attic.
"I recognize this house from those photographs. You bought a house where a woman was murdered?"
"Mama . . ." Brenda didn't know what else to say.
"Cain't you feel it?"
Brenda frowned. "Feel what?"
"The unquietness?"
"I don't think that's a word—"
"This house is disturbed and no wonder!"
"Mama, the house is fine. A house is just a house. It's the people that live in it that make the difference."
That night Brenda's mother insisted on staying in the living room. "I'm not going to sleep a wink all night."
Join the club, Brenda thought as she released the pullout sofa. She got her mother a blanket and a pillow. Her mother looked at them curiously. "They're mine," Brenda said.
Brenda fell asleep in the armchair. The next morning she awakened with a stiff neck, but at least she had slept, despite her mother's snoring.
As she got dressed, Brenda could hear her mother puttering around in the kitchen. She smiled, glad that they had both calmed down. All she needed was to have her mama in the house and all her mama needed was a good night's sleep after the long plane ride.
After breakfast, Brenda started clearing the table.
"You run along to work," her mother said.
"Aren't you coming with me?"
"For what? Go on now."
"Are you sure?" Brenda asked, surprised that her mother wasn't anxious to leave the house. "Last night—"
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Brenda Lee."
Brenda smiled and kissed her mother on the cheek. Her mother was probably embarrassed and wanted to forget how she had acted, which was fine by Brenda.