Page 111 of The Night the Lights Went Out
Sugar seemed almost happy now, knowing it would all be taken care of after she was gone. Merilee wondered if the unburdening of her secret might have also been the cause of Sugar’s lighter spirits. Merilee felt happier, too. Maybe it was the mutual unburdening that had brought them closer together, but she suddenly felt full of possibilities. Like happiness was possible and even within her reach.
“Mom, look!” Lily said, pointing to where Colin—without shoes or socks despite the December cold—sat in the grass with something white and fluffy on his lap, the ubiquitous binoculars around his neck.
Merilee blinked. “Is that...?”
“It’s the white dog I kept seeing! See? I told you it was real! She just came out of the woods and ran right to me. Does this mean I can keep her?”
Merilee came closer and saw that the furry white bundle in her son’s lap was indeed a dog. “Does she have a collar?” she asked hopefully.
He shook his head. “Nope. So we can keep her?”
“Well, we’ll have to put missing-dog posters up, and take her to a vet to see if she has a microchip...”
“And if she doesn’t belong to anybody, can we keep her?”
Merilee smelled the pine and thought of what Sugar had told her about her beloved dog, Dixie, and about a little white dog that had led her to Merilee the night of the storm. She thought of all the little bread crumbs in both of their lives that had led them down paths they hadn’t planned but had managed to navigate anyway.
Merilee smiled. “Yes. We can keep her—as long as she doesn’t belong to anybody else, we can keep her.” Both children whooped with joy, and the little dog looked at her with round, dark eyes behind very dirty and matted fur, and Merilee was pretty sure the dog belonged to them now.
“Mom?” Lily looked up with bright eyes, her brow smooth for the first time in a long while. “Can I invite Jenna over to see the dog?”
Jenna was Lily’s new BFF, according to Lily. Merilee approved, knowing how important it was for her daughter to have someone like Jenna to share her secrets with. And to share something as lovely as the joy of welcoming a new dog.
“Sure. Tell her she can spend the night, too. She can help finish decorating the tree with us, if she wants.”
The sound of a car pulling up brought them back to the front of the house. Wade was helping Sugar out of the backseat before heading to the front passenger seat to assist his grandmother. He’d taken them both out to lunch, something he did frequently, since Willa Faye didn’t drive and Sugar hated spending the money.
Willa Faye was tiny, about Lily’s size, with flaming red hair and dancing green eyes. She could see where Wade got a lot of his personality, just by looking in the face of this old woman.
“Merilee,” Wade said, “I’d like you to meet...”
Willa Faye held out her arms to Merilee. “She knows who I am, and, darlin’, I’m so happy to finally meet you. You’re just as pretty as Sugar said you were.”
Sugar grunted as Merilee laughed and allowed herself to be embraced. “And you’re exactly as I pictured you.”
“Like a Hollywood movie star, right?” She winked at Merilee, then allowed Wade to help her up the steps while Colin escorted Sugar, having reluctantly relinquished his hold on the dog to Lily.
They settled themselves in the front parlor while Merilee gave Lily instructions to bring out the Christmas cookies they’d made—using Sugar’s memorized recipes—and Wade excused himself to help bring in the teapot and cups.
“Colin—please get a water bowl for the dog, and put some of the leftover chicken in another bowl to see if she’s hungry. And then give her a bath. Who knows what’s in that fur.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Colin said seriously. “You won’t ever have to ask me again to feed Dixie or fill her water bowl or bathe her. I just hope she doesn’t like to chase birds, because then that’ll be a problem.”
“Dixie? Where’d you come up with that name?” Merilee asked, startled.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just kinda fits.”
Merilee met Sugar’s gaze for a brief moment. “Yeah. I guess it does.”
The two old women sat together on the sofa, and Merilee had a glimpse of them in their youth, of their smooth skin and shiny hair. Their unlined hands cupped over delicate ears as they whispered secrets.
Wade and Lily came in with trays of tea and cookies and set out everything on the coffee table. As Lily handed Merilee a plate, Wade said to her, “Did Sugar tell you that the DNA results came back from the lab? There’s no familial connection between Sugar and the person whose blood was on the shirt in the cellar. I guess we’ll never know the story behind it.”
“I guess not,” Sugar said as she accepted a plate of cookies from Lily.
He smiled as he handed his grandmother a cup and began to pour another for Sugar.
“I understand you’re stepping out with my grandson,” Willa Faye said.
