Maybe it was for some art project at the school
“She was eighteen,” he said, looking out the kitchen window at the gray Buick parked in the driveway. “They have their own plans. Maybe it was for some art project at the school.”
“She didn’t take art this semester,” I said. “And she didn’t ask for the keys to the Buick that day. The odometer only has eighty-two thousand miles on it, and I write down the mileage every time I go to the grocery store.”
“Someone else must have driven her then,” Brian said, his fingers returning to his watch.
“Who would drive her all the way to Elyria without telling me?” I asked, leaning forward.
“Why Elyria?” I added, before he could answer. “The local dime store has ribbon.”
“Maybe they didn’t have the colors she wanted,” Brian said.
“What colors did she want?”
“I don’t know, Evelyn. I was in the workshop most of that Tuesday.”
“And look at the bottom of the receipt,” I said, pointing to the smaller line items. “Six rolls of grosgrain ribbon. Three yellow, three green. And twelve packs of small safety pins.”
Author
Andrew Collins
“Safety pins,” Brian repeated, his brow furrowing for a split second before he smoothed his face back into its usual blank expression. “Maybe she was fixing something on her graduation gown.”
“They don’t pin things to their gowns, Brian. The gowns are zip-up polyester. You know that as well as I do.”
Brian stood up, his chair scraping loud against the linoleum. “The garden hose is leaking at the brass connection. I need to go find some plumber’s tape in the garage.”
He left the kitchen before I could ask him anything else, the screen door letting out a long creak before it clicked shut behind him.
I sat alone for a long time, the heavy black fan in the hallway continuing its slow, rhythmic hum.
At four in the afternoon, the heat had moved into the small study at the back of the house.
Olivia’s desk was exactly as she had left it, the wooden surface smelling faintly of lemon polish and old paper. Her high school planner, a black spiral notebook with her name written on the cover in silver marker, sat near the base of the brass lamp.
Author
Andrew Collins
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