Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(41)

“Mom!” she shouted. “Come here quick.”

Susannah hurried out to the living room. “What is it?”

“Look!” Chrissie cried, brandishing a fifty-dollar bill. “It fell out of this book when I took it down from the shelf.” She held up a history of the Second World War.

“Good grief.” Susannah realized there might be more money stashed in other books.

Chrissie reached for a second volume. Holding the book upside down, she splayed it open and two more bills fell onto the carpet. “Twenty-dollar bills,” Chrissie said. “These books are full of money.”

Susannah groaned. She didn’t know who had placed the bills there. It could’ve been either her mother or her father—perhaps both of them. Recently her mother had grown so distrusting of everyone that she’d started hiding things all over the house.

“Be sure and check inside each book,” Susannah said. This was going to slow them down even more. “Maybe I should help.” Having to examine each volume individually would be time-consuming.

“This is like a treasure hunt,” Chrissie said excitedly, taking down a copy of Gone With the Wind.

Before Susannah could respond, the doorbell rang. She wove her way through the cartons littering the room. If it was another real estate salesperson, she wouldn’t be nearly as polite as she’d been the first time.

She opened the door to a woman in her late sixties, possibly early seventies. “Hello, Susannah,” she said pleasantly as if she expected Susannah to recognize her immediately.

Susanna didn’t know this woman from Eve.

“I’m Eve Sutter.”

Eve? God does have a sense of humor, she thought with a glimmer of amusement. “I’m sorry, should I know you?”

“I’m sure your mother’s mentioned my name. We’re dear, dear friends.”

Susannah couldn’t remember her mother ever mentioning anyone named Eve. Not wanting to be rude, she held open the screen door so the other woman could come inside.

“I heard you’d moved Vivian over to Altamira,” Eve said as she stepped into the house. “It’s a lovely facility, isn’t it?”

Susannah nodded. She didn’t have time to waste with social chitchat. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, I came to help you,” Eve said, sounding surprised, again as if Susannah should intuitively know the reason for her visit. “I understand how difficult it is to pack up an entire life. I’m here to offer my assistance.”

“That’s very thoughtful, but…” Susannah was about to explain that she didn’t require this woman’s assistance; however, she wasn’t allowed to finish.

“I’m sure there’s far more here than your mother wants or needs.” Eve scanned the room, leaning to one side as she glanced down the long hallway that led to the bedrooms. “There are a number of things I’d be willing to take off your hands. We wear the same size, I believe.”

“Ah…”

“With so much to do, you must be looking for helping hands and here I am. Now, where should I start?” Eve pushed up her sleeves in anticipation.

“My daughter and I have everything under control, but thank you.” Susannah walked over to the door and pointedly held it open.

Eve’s head reared back as though she’d been insulted. “Of course. Well, I’ll stop by later with a bucket of chicken and—”

“We already have dinner plans.” Susannah opened the screen door, feeling less and less civil. If this so-called friend of her mother’s was a friend indeed, Susannah distrusted her.

Eve nodded, smiled sweetly and walked out the door. Susannah closed it with a decisive bang.

“Can you believe that woman?” she yelped, her voice rising in outrage.

“Mom…”

“It’s like the vultures have started circling overhead. First, that real estate woman and now Eve, my mother’s dear friend,” she said sarcastically. “Whom I never heard Mom mention even once.”

Chrissie laughed, but to Susannah this was no laughing matter.

“Come on, Mom, lighten up. She didn’t mean any harm.”

Susannah disagreed. Eve whatever-her-name was nothing but a freeloader.

The phone rang and they looked at each other, startled. Then Chrissie rushed into the kitchen to answer. Susannah suspected it was Joe; they’d spoken that morning, and he was unhappy with Chrissie, but Susannah had smoothed the waters. Although she didn’t approve of her daughter’s deception, she was grateful for her presence.

Chrissie was gone for several minutes. In the meantime, Susannah had unearthed another fifty dollars and packed up an entire row of books. Then—of all things—she found four teaspoons hidden behind the out-of-date encyclopedia. The very ones, no doubt, that Martha had supposedly stolen. Which reminded her—she needed to call Martha.

“You won’t believe who that was.”

Judging by the happiness in her daughter’s eyes, Susannah’s first guess was Jason, but she’d let Chrissie tell her. “Who?”

Chrissie nearly skipped over to the bookcase. “It was the guy in the pickup.”

“What guy?” Susannah asked before she remembered.

“Mother! The guy this afternoon. He figured I was related to Grandma, so he took a chance and called the house. He asked me out.”