Page 82 of The Pink House

Sighing, Hannah pocketed the phone, then slanted a look at her open laptop. All morning, she’d tried to work up a social media plan for Hannah Cakes, but she had made little progress.

Too many thoughts were circling in her head.

She spotted her hiking boots by the back door, and her spirits lifted ever so slightly.

A walk in the woods might be just what she needed to clear her head.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Hannah didn’t follow the directions she’d saved on her phone for finding the pink house. Even when the tree with the initials carved into the trunk came into view, she didn’t turn left.

Why bother? She’d followed those directions so many times, and each time, she had come up empty. Today, she would walk through the woods the way she had that first time. If she ran into the house and Maisie, great. If not, she’d get a good hike, some fresh air and hopefully clear her head.

A bird in a tree called out. The swath of bright red on its wings caught her eye and made her smile. As she followed its flight, her smile faded, and her breath caught in her throat.

She blinked once. Then twice. Still there.

The house, bright pink with gingerbread on the eaves and a spacious porch, was just as she remembered. As she drew closer, she saw Maisie sitting alone on the porch. Setting down the book she’d been reading, Maisie lifted a hand in greeting.

Eagerness fueled Hannah’s steps as she hurried closer.

“Good afternoon, Hannah.” Maisie stood and smiled warmly, gesturing for Hannah to join her on the porch when she reached the steps. “I had a feeling you might stop by, so I made us something to drink. I hope you like lemonade.”

Hannah smiled. “I had a feeling our paths might cross again today.”

“You and me.” Maisie tapped her temple with a finger. “Same wavelength.”

“A love of lemonade is another thing we have in common.” Hannah climbed the steps and took a seat in the chair Maisie indicated, relaxing against the back.

How could stepping onto this porch feel so much like home?

Maisie poured lemonade into two glasses with ice. When she leaned close to hand her one of them, the sweet floral fragrance of Maisie’s perfume teased Hannah’s nostrils. “The first time we introduced ourselves,” Maisie said, “I don’t believe I told you that I’ve always loved the name Hannah.”

“My mother did, too.” Hannah accepted the glass and smiled her thanks. “My dad has always said that when he and my mom were discussing baby names, no other name would do if I was a girl.”

Maisie’s expression softened. “That’s a special memory.”

“I didn’t really know my mother,” Hannah confided. “I don’t even have a clear picture of what she looked like.”

A startled look crossed Maisie’s face. “I know you told me she passed away when you were young, but surely you have a few pictures.”

“My father, well, he wasn’t himself for a period of time after she died. He put all the pictures together in a shoebox and stored them somewhere safe.” Hannah gave a little laugh. “The trouble was, when things did settle down, he couldn’t recall the location of that safe spot.”

Maisie sipped her lemonade. “He’s never remembered where he put them?”

“Nope.” Hannah took a drink and felt the last of the tension slip from her shoulders. “Never found them.”

“My husband used to do the same, put things away in strange places, then forget where they were.” Maisie chuckled. “When we lived in an older home, there was a…hidey-hole, I guess you’d call it, at the far back of our bedroom closet, way at the top. Once I realized he saw that as a safe place to store things, I always looked there first.”

“Does your husband live here with you?”

“I’ve been married twice,” Maisie said in response. “Both men were the love of my life.”

“Brian was the love of my life.” Hannah wondered how she could be having this conversation with a virtual stranger and it not feel odd. “I thought we’d be together forever.”

Maisie reached over and patted Hannah’s hand, the light touch as soft and soothing as a mother’s caress. “I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love. I was only eighteen when I married my Nathaniel. Even though I was young, I knew, just knew, he was the one for me. I didn’t realize our time together would be cut so short.”

“What happened?”

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