The Last of the Moon Girls(49)
Lizzy picked it up, experiencing the same wave of reverence she’d always felt for Althea’s gift as a healer. For an instant, she caught the blended scents of lavender and bergamot, soft and fleeting, like a sigh hovering briefly in the air. A sign of welcome? A nod of approval? Or merely her imagination? Lizzy couldn’t say. But as she opened the book and began to page through, she realized it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here, hoping to do some good, and that, somehow, Althea knew and was glad.
The pages were chock-full of remedies. There were preparations for colic, for cramp, for night sweats and sore throats, for skinned knees and achy joints, and, finally, a recipe for migraine tea. But she didn’t need a recipe; she needed the finished product.
There wasn’t much left on the shelves: a handful of dropper bottles and a smattering of salve tins. She moved to the drawers, where Althea kept more-specialized remedies in sealed plastic bags, carefully labeled and filed alphabetically by condition. It took a few minutes to comb through the packets, but she finally found what she was looking for—migraine tea.
She squinted at the date on the label, but it was too faded to read. Time had definite effects on herbal potency, as did exposure to light and air, but these had been stored in airtight bags and kept in a dark cupboard. With any luck, they had retained at least some of their medicinal properties. And if not, they wouldn’t do any harm.
She was about to leave the shop when she had an idea. She turned back, running her eyes over the shelves until she found what she was looking for: lavender and clary sage oils. She tucked the small blue vials into her pocket, already composing the instructions in her head on how they should be used. A few drops of each sprinkled on a warm compress, or added to a pot of boiling water to create a steam. A soothing and therapeutic complement to Althea’s tea.
The lunch crowd was beginning to thin by the time Lizzy arrived at the drugstore. Penny Castle was busy behind the counter, clearing plates and topping off coffee mugs. She had just dropped off a check to a man in bib overalls and a Patriots cap when she spotted Lizzy.
There was a flash of surprise, followed by a smile. She pointed to an open stool. Lizzy stepped forward but didn’t sit. Instead, she pulled a brown paper bag from her purse and handed it to Penny. “I found this in Althea’s shop, and wanted to bring it by.”
Penny’s face lit as she peered into the bag. “My tea!”
“There were only three packages, but I brought them all. There’s a chance it’s lost some of its potency, so you might want to steep it a little longer than you’re used to. I also threw in some aromatherapy oils I thought might help. There’s a note in the bag on how to use them.”
“I can’t tell you how much this means to me. How much do I owe you?”
“Consider it a gift,” Lizzy said, waving the offer away. “For old times’ sake.”
Penny reached across the counter to give Lizzy’s arm a squeeze. “I know you’re not staying, but it’s good to see you back in Salem Creek. And to see that you turned out so much like your grandmother. She’d be so proud of you.”
Lizzy felt a surprising lightness as she drove home. Not much had gone right since her return to Salem Creek, but bringing Penny Castle her tea had been both right and good. Such a small thing, a handful of herbs and oils. But for Penny, it wasn’t small at all. It meant relief, a place to turn when conventional medicine fell short, which to someone in chronic pain must feel like a miracle. Was that how Althea felt every day—like a miracle worker?
The question was still with her as she made a quick U-turn and pulled into the Nature’s Harvest parking lot. Evvie had said something the other night about her grandmother making peach ice cream every summer when she was a girl. It wouldn’t be homemade, but it would be a nice treat after supper.
It was early afternoon, and customers were scarce. Lizzy headed for the freezer section, grabbed a gallon of Hood peach, and made her way to the checkout. She had just put the ice cream on the conveyer belt when she looked up to find the woman working the customer service desk staring at her.
She was thin and pale, with shoulder-length hair the color of dirty dishwater. Lizzy didn’t recognize her, but her name badge read HELEN. Helen’s eyes slid away when she realized she’d been caught staring, but they soon returned, lingering brazenly this time. Lizzy held the stare, trying to decide if what she saw in the woman’s face was curiosity or aversion. Not that it mattered. She’d grown up with looks like that. All the Moons had. And yet it surprised her that one glance from a stranger could still make her want to slink away and hide.
SEVENTEEN
July 29
Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief as she left the county registrar’s office. She was nowhere near through with the red tape, but at least she’d gotten the ball rolling. It had taken days to round up and sort through Althea’s financial papers, which consisted of a battered accordion file, a pair of dog-eared ledgers, and a shoebox filled with canceled checks and loose receipts.
On the upside, in the drawer of Althea’s writing desk, she had discovered a manila envelope containing property tax documents, a declaration of trust, a beneficiary deed, and a boilerplate “Last Will and Testament.” Everything she’d need to handle the deed transfer—and apply for a mortgage if it came to that. Of course Althea had seen to it all.