"Where are Grandma Olivia and Grandpa Samuel?" I asked.
"Mrs. Logan is in her garden and Mr. Logan is out back reading his papers," Loretta said, unable to take her eyes from Holly. "Would you like me to show you to your room?"
"I have to speak to my grandmother first," I said.
"We'll just go around to the garden, Loretta. Thank you."
The sight of Grandma Olivia down on her knees with a gardening fork in hand and that widebrimmed hat on her head took Holly by surprise.
"She doesn't look so tough," she muttered. "She looks like anyone's little old grandmother."
"You haven't met her yet," I replied dryly.
Grandpa Samuel saw us from his lounge chair before Grandma Olivia did. He put down his papers and waved, standing as he did so.
"Well, hello there, my dear. Welcome," he called.
"Hello, Grandpa Samuel. This is my friend Holly Brooks. Actually, she's Kenneth's friend and now mine," I added. He widened his smile and nodded.
"Pleased to meet you, Holly. Any friend of Kenneth's is a friend of mine, and that goes double for any friend of my granddaughter here. Visiting the Cape?"
"I was," Holly said. "I'm leaving tonight."
r /> "Oh. That's too bad. I was looking forward to getting to know you," Grandpa Samuel said.
"Somehow, I expect you'll live through the disappointment, Samuel," Grandma Olivia said. She had risen and stood wiping her hands on her apron. "Your things are up in your room," she added. "I know. Loretta told me. This is Holly--"
"I heard all that," she snapped. "This isn't exactly the best time to be entertaining people. I would advise you to first settle yourself in, learn our schedule, including when it's proper and not proper to invite guests, and--"
"I'm not staying long, Grandma Olivia," I said quickly.
"What's that?" Grandpa Samuel said, turning to her. "I thought--"
"What does that mean? You're moving in with Kenneth Childs?" she asked.
"No. I'd like to show you something and then explain," I said.
She glared at me and then walked around the border of the garden toward the lounge chairs and table. She peeled off her gardening gloves, poured herself some iced tea and watched as I approached, the catalogue in hand.
"A friend of mine from West Virginia mailed this to me," I said, holding it out to her. Grandma Olivia gazed at it as if I were about to hand her something dirty or smelly.
"What would I want with that?" she asked.
"Just look at the woman modeling the clothes on this page," I requested.
She put her glass down slowly, reached into her apron, and came up with a pair of glasses. Grandpa Samuel moved to her side and gazed over her shoulder. They stared at the catalogue and then they both looked at us, unsure what it meant.
"That's Haille, right? What happened to her hair?" Grandpa Samuel asked.
"She obviously dyed it black," Grandma Olivia said and handed the catalogue back to me. "Are you here to tell me this proves your mother was some sort of success?"
"No, Grandma. Kenneth phoned a friend and it turns out the woman in those pictures is still alive and living under the name Gina Simon."
"Gina Simon?" Grandpa Samuel said. "Let me see that again," he said. I handed him the catalogue. "Looks like Haille to me."
"To all of us," I said. "That's why I'm leaving. I'm going to Los Angeles to find out if it is Mommy."
"Going to Los Angeles? But I don't