“Where’s what?” Matt asked casually and dropped a slice of bread in the toaster.
“My Bible.”
“It’s not on the shelf?” He craned his neck to look around her.
Her eyes bore down on me. “Which of you has taken it?”
“I haven’t touched it, Grandmother,” I said, surprised by her accusatory tone.
“And you know I never do,” Matt added.
“Someone moved it. I put it here last night. It is always here,” she insisted.
“Maybe you carried it into another room,” I suggested.
“I did not. I know what I’ve done and what I haven’t.
“But everybody misplaces things,” I reasoned with her. “I’ll look in the library.” It was an excuse to get away as much as a desire to help. She seemed bent on raising a fuss this morning, and I didn’t want any part of it.
I checked her desk first, then the tabletops and mantel.
Matt came in and began searching even more thoroughly, beneath tables and chairs, under a pile of magazines. I returned to the desk and tried to open the drawers, the ones he’d been looking through Friday night.
“They’re locked,” he said.
“Where’s the key?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Some things Grandmother tells no one.” Except you, I thought.
“The Bible wouldn’t be in there anyway,” he added.
“How would you know, if the desk is locked?”
His eyes met mine steadily. “I’ve seen the drawers open when she’s working. They’re full of junk. There’s no room for anything else.” He turned to survey the shelves of books.
“Are you sure you didn’t borrow it or put it away for her?”
“I’m sure.”
His eyes continued to travel over the volumes of books. “If she put it on one of these shelves, we’ll be lucky to find it.”
He was acting as if we had a major problem on our hands. “It’ll show up sooner or later,” I said. “And it it doesn’t, she can buy a new one-it’s still in print.”
He didn’t smile. “You look in the music room, I’ll search the parlor.”
I checked the room thoroughly; nothing but dust had settled there for a long time. I returned to the kitchen, figuring that Grandmother had found the book or decided it was not important.
She spun around when she heard me enter. “It is a sin to steal.”
“I know, Grandmother. The Ten Commandments are posted in my bedroom.”
She glared at me, then started pacing back and forth.
“We’ll find it,” I assured her. “Meanwhile, it’s Sunday. Is there a church service you like in town? I’d be glad to go with-”
“I don’t go to church,” she replied shortly. “I refuse to sit among the town hypocrites. As for the ministers these days, they can’t tell right from wrong.”
Matt returned. “Should I check your bedroom, Grandmother?”
“You should check Megan’s room,” she replied.
I opened my mouth to protest. Her suspicion was insulting. But if a search put me in the clear-“Oh, what the heck, check it,” I said.
All three of us climbed the stairs. Matt searched my room, taking too long I thought. Grandmother checked his room. I offered to search hers but was met with a look that could shear steel. I sat on the top step stewing, then got up and walked in circles. When I passed in front of the hall’s antique mirror, I saw myself looking angry and on edge.
The two of them returned empty-handed.
“Someone will be punished for this,” Grandmother declared.
She sounded absurdly serious.
“Maybe the ghost took it,” I suggested.
“We don’t have a ghost, Megan. I don’t want to hear that kind of nonsense from you.”
I was feeling defiant. “Someone named Alice, who used to work here, told me she saw it.”
“Alice Scanlon is a liar.”
“She said the ghost’s name is Avril.”
The pupils of Grandmother’s eyes were jet black inside their pale blue rims. Matt shook his head, signaling me to keep quiet.
“On my walk Friday I visited the family cemetery and saw Avril’s stone. She died young.”
“She was the same age as you,” Grandmother replied.
“And just as sassy.”
“How did she die?”
Grandmother looked at me for a long moment, the pupils of her eyes unsteady. “You heartless, rude girl, asking me something like that. You’re not part of the family. Why would I tell you?”
“So when people say things, like she was murdered, I know how to correct them.”
She turned abruptly, strode into her bedroom, and slammed the door behind her. There was a moment of quiet, then I heard her lock the door.
I looked at my cousin, hoping he could give me a reasonable explanation for her extreme behavior.
“Good job,” he said. “Next time you set her off, do it on a day I’m out of the house.”
“She’s already off,” I replied in a hushed voice.
“Yeah, well, if you don’t want her over the edge, you’ll drop the ghost stuff.”
“She overreacts to things,” I argued.
“And you won’t mention Avril again.”
“Why?” I asked, following him downstairs. I caught his arm at the landing. “Tell me why.”
“It upsets Grandmother. Avril was her sister and they were very close.”
“Sixty years ago. She can’t still be mourning her. Matt, is Grandmother losing it? Mentally, I mean.”
He started down the steps again, ignoring the question.
I caught up with him a second time. “Why do you protect her? When she goes after you, why don’t you fight back?”
“There are a lot of things you don’t understand.”
“No kidding. How about explaining them to me?” He was silent.
“Couldn’t you see what she was doing with that stuff about grades and jobs? She’s trying to turn you against me. I don’t know why, since you already don’t like me. But she’s making sure of it. What’s eating her?”
For a moment the mask slipped from his face. I could see the uncertainty in him.
“Matt,” I said, taking a step toward him.
He jerked away from me, picked up his Jeep keys from the hall table, and strolled toward the door.
“What are you thinking?” I called after him. “What?”
He didn’t glance back, didn’t break stride. “You should never have come,” he said, and left.
Grandmother emerged from her room at ten o’clock that morning, no longer obsessed with finding the Bible. She was unhappy because Matt had left the house on his study day, but he knew how to get back on her good side, returning with the Baltimore paper, as well as the Sunday New York Times and Washington Post Her fingers smoothed the newspaper with the same pleasure that some women show when touching silk. Anyone peeking in the library door right then would have thought she was a perfectly normal grandmother.
“Are you calling your mother today?” she asked me.
“I was thinking about e-mailing my parents. Do you have a computer?”
“Matt has one in his room. You may use that.”
“Is that all right with you, Matt?”
Grandmother replied before he did. “I gave him the computer. It is all right with me.”
Still, I waited for my cousin’s response.
“It’s on,” he said, which I took as permission and headed upstairs.
Matt’s room was neater than I thought it would be, with just a few pretzels crunched into the rug and a small pile of clothes thrown onto a chair. Two pictures sat on a shelf above his desk. In one several lacrosse players wearing helmets and holding sticks grinned back at the camera. I thought Matt was the player on the end. The second photo was of a little boy and a big dog. I knew by the eyes that the child was Matt, but the sweetness of his expression surprised me. His arms were wrapped so lovingly around the dog, a golden retriever that looked old and patient, I got a lump in my throat.