– the metal cool and smooth to the touch – but she stopped as she heard the side door open and the clatter of high heels coming towards her.
‘Well, I guess it must be Tuesday,’ Patsy said. Her maroon dress exactly matched her shoes and her earrings, and her hair looked frozen into place. ‘Doesn’t anything ever change around here?’ She glared at the silver as though it was there solely to inconvenience her. ‘There are more important things to do. The house goes on the market tomorrow, and this stuff ships out to the auction house.’
Mary Elizabeth twisted the teapot in her hands. ‘The silver, too? You don’t want it?’ She’d known the furniture would be sold – too ornate, too heavy for Patsy’s taste – but the silver, too?
Patsy laughed. ‘You’ve got to be kidding – what would I do with it? Much better to get the cash; this old stuff is hot right now.’ She picked up the frame with the photo of her parents, glanced at it as though looking at strangers, and set it down again.
Mary Elizabeth looked along the row of silver pieces – half dull, half gleaming – and wondered how many times she had caressed each one. Eighteen times fifty-two if she could find pen and paper to multiply it out. ‘Do you want it boxed, then?’ She was embarrassed that her voice shook.
‘That would help. The boxes and packing materials are out in the garage.’ Patsy glanced again at the frame she had handled. ‘And take the pictures out; no one wants a frame with someone else’s picture in it.’
Patsy clicked her way out of the kitchen.
Mary Elizabeth looked one last time at the long row of silver. With