Heavenly Corners

fine, and my parents lived two blocks away. He nodded and stood by the front door for a few minutes watching us. He left when my parent’s car pulled up. I don’t remember thanking him. All I could think of was that my precious Steve was gone. My high school sweetheart, my soul mate, and the love of my life. I was a widow at thirty-two with a nine-year-old daughter.
“Get a grip, Annie,” I said out loud. I heard a few small animals scamper. “Good going, Annie. You scared the wildlife.”
I drank down the last of my wine cooler and noticed the lights in Inga’s house were going off one by one until the only window lit was the master bedroom.
I stood and mumbled, “Maybe Georgie is right. Someone is looking for something.” I dragged the chair back to my patio and headed for bed.

Chapter Three
I was tired after the tension-filled evening and fell asleep quickly. A little before five I woke shaking from head to foot. I hadn’t had a nightmare in a few years. This was a doozy. In my nightmare, I heard the doorbell ring, and I opened the door to find the same state trooper from ten years ago standing on my porch. He stared into my eyes and said in Georgie’s voice, “Maybe they killed her.”
I usually slept until seven since I didn’t need to be at the bookstore until eight or eight-thirty, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get more sleep. I made a cup of tea and sat on the couch watching the early news.
I walked to the patio doors and opened them. Before I knew it, I was standing at the end of my pier looking across the lake at Inga’s house. Someone was outside walking around her house with a flashlight again.
I mumbled, “What in the world is going on over there?” My nightmare replayed in my mind, and I shuddered.
I noticed the lights go on in Aunt Irene’s cottage, and I decided I would prepare breakfast for both of us. A quick knock at her door let her know to come over when she was ready. My Aunt Irene was my dad’s only sister. She lived with mom and dad until they moved to Arizona. She refused to leave the beauty of Wisconsin winters, and we redecorated the fishing cabin into a quaint cottage for her. Dad was happy she would live close to me.
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I waited until Aunt Irene finished her omelet before I told her the news about Inga. They had been in the same church quilting circle for years. I wanted her to hear the news from someone who cared. I knew before long phones across town would be ringing with the sad news.
I filled her teacup with more boiling water and dropped in a fresh peppermint teabag. She looked up at me and said, “Thank you, Annie. How was the meeting last night?”
I looked at her and took a deep breath. I reached over and took her hand. “Aunt Irene, at last night’s meeting Inga Kelleher collapsed and passed away.” I searched her face for signs of stress or an adverse physical reaction.
She looked back at me and patted my hand. “We’re all in line waiting for death to come one day, Annie. Some lines are shorter than others. Inga’s was long. She was a good friend. I’ll miss her. We’ll go to the funeral together. I should go home now so you can get ready for work.”
I was worried by her reaction. Was she in shock or denial? “You can stay a while, Aunt Irene. I don’t have to get ready yet. We can talk.”
She stood and waved her hand at me. “I’m sure I’ll be on the phone with friends all day. The quilting circle will need to plan a nice memorial luncheon in memory of Inga. She walked to the sliding door and turned, “Enjoy your day, Annie.” She flashed me a big smile as she closed the door and disappeared off the patio in the direction of her cottage.
I locked the door behind her and headed for the shower. Maybe when people were older they accepted death easier or as I suspected, my aunt wanted to do her grieving on her own. I knew she’d call mom and dad. It was a good thing. Since I lost Steve, talking about death, funerals, or memorial luncheons felt like a knife in my heart.
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Driving toward my bookstore, I waved at several people who were up and around at eight in the morning. Most were either at work or getting ready to leave. I enjoyed going into the store an hour before it opened. There was always something to do.
I passed Harvey from the Ford dealership where I had purchased my Ford Explorer. He was walking his dog and gave me a thumbs up. When I needed a new car last fall, Laci asked me to wait until her semester break. We could shop together. It was snowing when I picked her up at the small bus station outside of town. We slipped and slid a bit on the drive home in my old sedan. Laci chatted non-stop about my need of a car with four-wheel drive.
“Mom,” she’d said, “you leave early in the morning and sometimes come home later in the evening. You need a safe car that will get you through our snowy winters.”
That’s how we ended up at the Ford dealership and made Harvey’s day when I gave in and bought a new ruby red Ford Explorer Sport.
I was hoping for a nice nondescript black or dark gray vehicle. Laci insisted that since I was born in July the ruby red color was a sign and since it was my birthstone, I had to get it. I always seemed to give in to her. Plus as she said, her beautiful brown eyes looking at me, when she was home and needed to borrow it she would be