Page 7 of The Pink House

In Hannah’s imagination, her mother had kind eyes, like Lisa Rogan, the librarian. Though it seemed like two would be too young to remember anything, Hannah swore she remembered the feel of her mother’s arms around her and the sweet scent of lily-of-the-valley perfume.

Funny how you can miss someone you barely knew.For her, grief was a gentle yearning that hadn’t faded even as the years passed.

She strode deeper into the woods, recalling how her friends in high school had complained about their mothers. Yet, in another breath, they’d spoken of shopping trips, mani-pedis and long conversations with someone who loved them unconditionally.

Hannah had only her father. To his credit, he’d tried to listen and had always done his best to understand her concerns. Still, he was an IT geek, more comfortable with computers than people. His sigh of relief whenever their personal conversations had ended had been audible.

Branches snapped beneath Hannah’s boots as she continued on her way to, well, she wasn’t quite sure. She only knew she’d recognize the perfect spot when she reached it.

The buzzing of her phone let her know a reminder had popped up. Hannah had promised to meet Mackenna at a street dance tonight. Since she wasn’t meeting her until eight, there was no rush. Still, she couldn’t linger in the woods for too long.

The repetitive sound ofpeter-peter-peterhad Hannah cocking her head. She’d grown up in this area, knew many of the birds by sight and sound, if not by name.

This particular birdsong wasn’t familiar. Eager to see the bird, she turned in the direction of the sound, weaving her way around trees and brush and over tree stumps.

Hannah came to an abrupt stop, the bird forgotten. Her breath hitched at the sight of a two-storypinkhouse. On three sides of the structure, dozens of lily-of-the-valley plants bloomed.

The flowers might have caught her eye, but it was the massive structure, complete with a cupola, that captivated her. As Hannah stared, she spotted several women sitting around a table, laughing while they played cards.

Hannah wondered how it was she’d never run across this house before. Though in good repair, the structure wasn’t new. If she had to guess, she’d say it appeared to have been built in the early twentieth century.

As she watched, one of the women, her hair the color of butterscotch candy, caught sight of her and lifted a hand in a friendly wave.

Hannah waved back and returned the woman’s smile. For a brief moment, she considered approaching the house, but she didn’t want to intrude on their game.

With a regret she didn’t quite understand, Hannah returned the way she’d come.

* * *

It took Hannah longer than she’d expected to find her way out of the woods. After several wrong turns, she finally stepped out into the sunshine. Breathing a sigh of relief, she saw her house, a white beacon against the blue of the sky.

After leaving the pink house, Hannah had fought a feeling of loneliness. The feeling was familiar. During her childhood, the same wave of loneliness would often wash over her, even though her father had been home every evening and had slept just down the hall from her.

While her grief after Brian’s death had been overwhelming, she hadn’t experienced that sense of being alone in the world.

Maybe it was because she’d had a circle of girlfriends in Greensboro who’d rallied around her to provide unwavering support.

Despite the warmth of the sun, Hannah shivered. She paused at the edge of the clearing and rubbed her arms.

How could she have missed seeing the pink house before? Granted, she’d taken a number of turns today, ones she couldn’t re-create if she tried, but that didn’t explain why she hadn’t stumbled across it at some point in the past. And who had the women been on the porch?

Even as she started across the clearing to her home, she was seized with a sudden urge to go back. Only this time, she wouldn’t stand back and watch, she’d march up to the porch and introduce herself.

Then she’d have answers to the questions circling in her brain. As tempted as Hannah was to return to the pink house, she’d promised to meet Mackenna, though.

Her trek through the woods had been a dirty one. Which meant, before she headed to the street dance, she needed to make herself presentable.

Learning more about the pink house and the ladies on the porch would have to wait for another day.

CHAPTERTHREE

As she dressed for the GraceTown in the Streets festival, Hannah wondered if she should have asked Mackenna what most women their age would be wearing this evening. Then she reminded herself she’d grown up in this town and had been back here numerous times over the years.

Some things remained constant. Casual was the name of the game for community events. That wasn’t to say that people didn’t like to get dressed up for symphony events or the big New Year’s Eve bash, but for most everything else, comfortable worked.

After having the Uber drop her off just shy of the historic district, Hannah enjoyed the walk down the pedestrian path to where she would meet Mackenna. The music from the band that drifted on the evening air had Hannah’s hips swaying as she made her way down the brick walkway.

Vendors had set up on both sides of Cripple Creek. There were several walking bridges over the creek, so those attending the dance could easily go from one side to the other. From the number of pedestrians on the bridge up ahead, that’s just what was happening.

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