My stepmother’s parents had wrinkled lips and heavy crow’s feet around their eyes. The woman wore a housecoat and her husband wore every color of plaid that might have existed in socks, slippers, pants and shirt and light jacket. They sat in seventies styled brown plaid sofa chairs with crochet blankets covering them and smoked while they watched daytime television.

  “I don’t think so,” the woman said. She turned to her husband. “She just had the one, right?”

  “How would I know?” the man said. “She never talks to us. Walked right on out the day she got married and told us she hated us and that was it. Don’t know what was wrong with her.”

  It was clear that they never bothered to call her to find out.

  Funny enough, it was with some relief that they didn’t know anything about me, and that my stepmother had cut off contact likely before I was even born.

  The conversation didn’t last long and didn’t need to. It’d be the last I ever thought of them. Though I thought their disinterest in anything to do with their daughter explained a lot about her.

  My stepmother had gotten her ideas for punishments from somewhere. I had my suspicions.

  My mood brightened as we crossed Winchester, passing some countryside farms along the way. Horse and cow farms were much more popular than any food production. It was different from where I grew up in Illinois and very different from South Carolina. Thick, lush green hills, even in the middle of February.

  My mother’s mother’s house was in a quiet subdivision in town. It was a blue house, single story, but was high off the ground. There were windows along one edge near the ground that suggested a basement. It was a quaint house, in a quaint and quiet neighborhood. Each house had unique architectural characteristics that defined them.

  After parking out front, Gabriel and I exited the car, standing together on the sidewalk, studying the house.

  I was waiting for a little courage to creep into my heart. Just a little. We’d met a lot of people over the last week. A few I didn’t even meet in person, yet they were still exhausting experiences.

  I had no idea what to expect of this one. Part of me considered sending Gabriel in first. Without much courage, I wasn’t sure what use I would be going in. I was nervous enough to think later that day I’d have to go back to my grandfather’s.

  My mother’s parents were more of interest to me than anyone else, even though I felt they were the most stressful.

  This was the hard part, I kept telling myself. These are answers I didn’t know I needed. Not until I had gotten here and had seen it for myself.

  “We should just go inside,” I said. “I’m making it worse just standing out here thinking about it.”

  “Yeah,” Gabriel said. He put on the black beanie this time. It worked well with his punk style, with the earrings put back in and the strips of blond hair hanging out, the russet locks were stuffed in underneath the hat. This was more like him. “Felt the same standing at my uncle’s porch. Didn’t want to. And meeting him... wasn’t actually too bad. My ex-aunt too... wasn’t that bad.”

  “Still need to go find your mom’s parents?” I asked, while moving away from the car, to follow the sidewalk that led to the front door of the blue house. “We should go soon.”

  “There’s time. Maybe after this. Hopefully it doesn’t take long. I mean we have all day but I don’t want to leave North and Silas too late after dark at your grandfather’s house when it doesn’t make sense for them to linger that long.” He paused, both in talking and in walking, and turned to me. “Sorry. I don’t mean to rush you here. We can stay as long as you want.”

  I swayed on both feet, anticipating going in, and wondering if anyone was looking out the window, wondering why two people might be in the lane.

  “I don’t want to take too long, either,” I said.

  He blinked at me. “I mean... here, in Winchester, too. You know, we can stay as long as you want.”

  I puzzled over his meaning when I thought I caught sight of something in the window at the house.

  At the glass of one of the windows was a dark snout.

  A little Bichon Frise. It peeked out at us and started barking.

  “Man,” Gabriel said. “Everyone’s got dogs around here.”

  “I like them,” I said, continuing up the path.

  Gabriel had paused in the driveway and then bounded up the steps after I’d climbed them. “Oh yeah? You want one? We could get...”

  “Hang on there, Pumpkin,” a jolly, mature female voice came from inside the house, muffled a bit but as we were at the door, it was clear enough. “It’s probably just the mailman.”

  Gabriel quickly knocked to alert whoever it was that we were there.

  The wooden door on the porch opened slowly, and a pale face peered out, with only very slight caution and a mostly curious expression. She had all white hair cropped around her chin. Her glasses had clear frames and she wore a thick green sweater and black fitted pants with house slippers on her feet. She was taller than me, and I think maybe taller than her own husband.

  She peered out at us for a second before opening the door more. “Hello?” she said.

  My mouth jumbled for what to say. “Hello,” was the only thing that came out.

  She had some similarities to my mother, including her eyes. It wasn’t exactly the same, but the green was familiar to me. Her face was dainty, and she had an air of sincerity and kindness.

  Just looking at her, I didn’t want to tell her about me at all. Not because she wouldn’t have cared, but because she appeared happy. At peace. At least a little. Telling her felt like dragging up a past maybe she had already gotten over. I was scared to even be here.

  Gabriel spoke up when I hesitated. “Hello,” he said. “We’re the ones staying at your husband’s house for the moment. He mentioned you and we thought we’d come say hello so you know we were there. So we’re not total strangers.”

  She opened the door further and seemed much more interested in us now. “Oh really? Yes, my son mentioned he thought he found someone to stay there. At least for a little while.” She stepped aside. “Come on in. Let’s get you both out of the cold. I heard it might snow soon.”

  We entered a narrow hallway, filled with a side table on one wall and coats hanging on the other. We squeezed through, to be greeted by the dog, who barked happily, sniffed at us, shook its body, with white curly hair flying around it, and then followed along as my grandmother ushered us deeper into the house.

  We passed doors and another hallway, a kitchen that was cozy, and ended up in a back living room. It was a tidy room, with beige carpet and comfortable light beige sofas and a bookshelf along the back wall. Every bookshelf was full of books double shelved, and boxes and knickknacks. There was a fireplace in here, and a small television on one side. The top of the old television had handmade Valentine’s Day cards in very similar styles.

  This whole house was cozy, with loads of stuff in it. As barren as the farmhouse had felt at times, this house seemed to be a direct contrast.

  The dog, once it guided us to the back room, left us, trotting back to the front door, possibly in search of the mailman.

  There was also a woman in this back room. She was young, a little plump and cheerful, maybe in her mid-twenties. She wore dark pajamas and cozy socks. She was sitting in a sofa chair. At her feet was a toddler, who was drooling on a toy in his mouth, at least until we showed up to distract him.

  “This is Grace,” she said to us. “Grace, these are the kids staying at my husband’s house.”

  Grace’s dark eyes widened and she turned her head and gave a sympathetic smile. “Oh, you’re very brave to be doing that. Can’t imagine it’s going well.” She got up to offer a hand to Gabriel.

  Gabriel shook it. “I’m Gabriel,” he said. “This is Samantha.”

  Grace took one look at me as she reached to shake my hand and instantly burst out, “Oh my word, Charlotte, doesn’t she look just like your daughter?”

  My mouth popped open instantly. Did I forget something? The contacts? The makeup?

  She had to have some photos of my mother around here, if Grace knew about her and knew my face enough to think I looked like her, she must at least have a few.

  I panicked as my grandmother Charlotte peered at me.

  Gabriel quickly chuckled. “That’s amazing! I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

  I was about to say something when Charlotte turned to him for a moment and then back to me. “Yes, yes...” she said slowly, considering the words, “Are you from here? I’m pretty sure I’m cousins with half the town. And I know basically everyone.”

  This wasn’t true, but there might have been distant cousins I didn’t even know about. I tried not to think about there being more family out there. The immediate family had been enough to worry about.

  Gabriel interrupted quickly before I could come up with how to respond. “Is that so? I’m from here. My last name is Coleman.”

  This got Charlotte’s attention quickly and she finally broke off staring at me. “Really? Are you related to... Goodness, it’s been a few years, but I’m pretty sure...”

  “Steve Coleman’s my uncle,” Gabriel said. “He still lives here. My dad was from here. And my mom. They’ve both died but...”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Grace said. She placed a hand over her heart and then suddenly brought her fingers to a gold cross she kept at her neck and held it between two fingers. “Tragic things happen to people from this town. Probably an epidemic.”

  Charlotte motioned for us to sit down on the couch and she brought over another cushioned upright chair that had been in the corner. “Grace’s husband passed away a few months ago,” she said as she sat down in the chair.

  Again, my jaw unhinged and I couldn’t quite find the words. It was hard enough to recover from feeling like I’d almost been found out. I stiffened to try to not react, but it left me feeling like I should be saying something sympathetic. I was just stuck doing nothing.

  “Oh man, shit...” Gabriel widened his eyes and covered his mouth with his fingers. “Oh, I’m so sorry...”

  “No, no, you had the right sentiment,” Grace said, rocking back in the chair, using her foot for leverage against the carpet, and then motioned to her baby on the floor. “He probably hears worse at the daycare.”

  “Grace lives in the apartment over the garage out yonder,” Charlotte said.

  “So we’re both tenants,” Grace said.

  “Yes, for now at least,” Gabriel said. “Though kinda wish we could stay a bit longer.”

  “You probably don’t want to stay too long at the farm,” Charlotte said. “My husband, god love him, he’s a tough man to deal with.”

  Gabriel’s eyes darkened a bit. “He’s going to need someone there. There’s been robberies lately though, right? Someone was by there yesterday. Six men in a white truck.”

  Charlotte tilted forward and touched briefly at her chin. “Really? Yes, someone broke in while he was there a couple weeks ago. He said they took everything they could in a truck, and even tried to open the safe. When they couldn’t figure out how to break it open, they left, and with him on the floor passed out.”

  “And he doesn’t like calling the cops, even then?” Gabriel asked.

  Charlotte shook her head. “No. No, he wouldn’t call them. Not after...” She paused like she debated telling us the rest.

  “They took his guns,” I said, trying to alter my voice a bit as I spoke. I didn’t want to sound like her dead daughter, as much as they thought I looked like her. I also didn’t want to lose the opportunity to find out the truth. We had found nothing on this. No clue.

  Charlotte rocked back in her chair a little. “Yes. That was a sad day.”

  She paused again, like she hesitated to bring it back up.

  Gabriel seemed to understand this was important. “Can you help us understand? Since we’re staying there?”

  This seemed to encourage her. She continued, “Someone heard gunshots a couple of years ago. Had to be a lot because there’s hunting that happens around here. And it’s the countryside. Everyone has a gun. But someone had called, probably worried about him. Except when the police got there, my husband told them to leave him alone. Then it was like a standoff, with nearly every county sheriff showing up. Took nearly a day to calm him down enough and they took the guns from him for threatening them with it to get off his property.”

  “What happened that had him firing so much to draw the attention of the neighbor to call the cops?” Gabriel asked.

  Charlotte shrugged. “He tried to claim it was just deer he was trying to scare off, but I wasn’t sure that was true. I wondered if he got bored and was doing some firing practice with the old things. He’s always had them. Taught his son about them.”

  “And the police took his guns?”

  “They made him surrender what he had. And they told him if they ever caught him with another gun out there, they’d arrest him. He got lucky they didn’t take him in. He only got in trouble when he aimed the guns at them for being on his property in the first place.”

  Suddenly the toddler rolled onto his back and started making noises and gurgling quietly to himself.

  “Probably ready for naptime,” Grace said.

  “Why don’t you take him to my bedroom?” Charlotte said. She motioned to the hallway. “Climbing those stairs again, he’ll just wake right up.’

  “Probably a good idea,” Grace said, picking up the child. She smiled at us as she passed. “Be right back.”

  “She doesn’t like being alone in the apartment for too long,” Charlotte said as Grace left the room with her child. “She’s a people person. I don’t mind the company. This house gets too quiet when no one else is here.”

  There was a quiet moment as we all tried to figure out where to take the conversation next. I was studying the room, the books, the collection toys in different bins, some for the dog, some for the baby. And then the collection of Valentine’s Day cards.

  “You have a lot of grandkids or something?” Gabriel asked, motioning to the cards I was looking at.

  “Oh no, I work at the local YMCA,” she said. She beamed as she gazed over at her collection. “We did Valentine’s Day cards this week for different age groups and most of them made me one. They’re so sweet sometimes.” She paused, and then gazed off toward a window. “I used to be a teacher, until I retired. The pension is nice, but I don’t like sitting still for long. I miss being a teacher though. I loved the kids. It’s how I know nearly most of the people in town. I taught them in grade school and they remember me.”

  My lips had frozen, parted, listening to her talk.

  She liked kids.

  She had a baby here. Granted it was someone else’s, but she clearly had a heart for children.

  So... why was I given to my father?

  Why couldn’t I have stayed with her?

  Gabriel continued asking questions. “Your son never had kids?”

  “He’s got a wife, and they might have a baby someday. Nothing yet.” She smiled but her smile wasn’t as bright as before. “He... I don’t know. Might be just me overthinking. He’s a bit like his father. I worry about his wife sometimes.”

  “I was wondering why you two were living apart,” Gabriel asked gently. “But you’re still married?”

  She sighed and then gazed off again toward the window. “Love the man to death, but he’s very hard to live with. He’s very demanding. We work much better when we’re apart like this. I can live a normal life. He once tried to tell me what to do here, too, but I told him, no, you don’t get to dictate what I do when I’m in my house. I don’t tell him what to do any more with his house.”

  “Is that why you split?” Gabriel asked.

  I was grateful for Gabriel having the gumption to ask the questions I wanted to ask myself.

  Charlotte’s lips moved like she was hesitating to answer before she finally did. She played with a couple of rings on her fingers as she said, “I think the last straw was after our daughter died. She’d had a baby you see, and my husband forced the father to take the baby, swore he’d send God himself down on him for abandoning his own child in need. And when that didn’t work, threatened to get the police involved, and that forced him to agree. It’s a long story there.”

  It was confusing the way she was telling it. It was all my grandfather’s decision to make my father keep me?

  “Her father didn’t want his own daughter?” Gabriel asked. “And your husband didn’t want the baby around either?”

  “I was at work when this was happening. I only learned about it when I got home and I didn’t even understand why. I was so angry with my husband for sending the baby off with her father anyway.” She blinked repeatedly, again gazing off at the window.

  I’d held my breath, waiting for more.

  How open she was with complete strangers. I hadn’t expected to hear this much so freely.

  She didn’t seem shy at all about mentioning my mother, or me, only very sad. But we were two fresh faces, too new to her to ask anything deeper, especially as she appeared to be struggling to stop herself from crying.

  I studied the floor, worried that I would, too.

  Grace reappeared and crossed the room to her sofa chair. “What did I miss?”

  Charlotte wiped a bit at the corner of her eye and stood up. “Sorry, was just telling them about my daughter. Excuse me.”

  “Oh,” Grace said and waited until Charlotte left the room for the kitchen before leaning toward us and saying in a low voice. “The poor thing,” she said. “Her daughter had a baby, you see.”

  “And Brian sent her to her father’s?” Gabriel asked. “Why?”

  “Some big fight,” she said. “Man’s gotta take care of his own kinda attitude. The father had moved away already, you see. He was trying to distance himself since she was so young when she got pregnant.” She spoke so quickly, like she’d heard it all and assumed we knew a bit more, so it was hard to follow. “Or maybe... I don’t know. I thought she died after they took the baby away. But maybe it was before? I don’t know the exact timing...” Grace stopped talking when Charlotte re-entered the room.