Zed shook his head. “Three months from the time the doctor said she had a brain tumor. He wanted to do some chemo and radiation, but she said three months was enough time to get her affairs in order and she wasn’t dyin’ with no hair on her head.”

“Why didn’t you call us?” Tawny whispered.

“Wanted to. She said y’all had your own lives to live. Now let’s get things done so I can get back to the café. Don’t want y’all’s supper to burn up,” he said.

Despite what Zed implied, Dana was fairly familiar with the convenience store. She’d been to see her grandmother more than the other two sisters through the years. But not as often as she should have or she wouldn’t feel so guilty when she stepped into the store and caught a whiff of the minnow tank and the slight smell of smoke coming from the back room where Zed lived.

She’d been the only grandchild for ten years. She’d been excited the first summer that Harper came to the resort. She had a sister, a baby to play with. Then a couple of years later they added Tawny and, in her young ignorance, she’d thought they were a family.

Dana had only seen her father’s wife, Retha, twice. Both times it had been when Retha brought the younger sisters to the lake for their month in the summer. The woman had looked at Dana like she was less than the dirt on the bottom of her fancy shoes, and Dana had learned early on to steer clear of Retha Harper-Clancy.

Anger filled her heart when she thought of anyone ever making Brook feel that way, and then it was suddenly replaced with sadness when she envisioned her grandmother standing behind that cash register for so many years.

“What’s goin’ on with Harper and Tawny and you? I don’t remember much about them except that they always played with me and made me laugh. But y’all act like you hate each other,” Brook asked as she checked out the place.

Dana quickly wiped her eyes and pasted on a smile. “Hate is a strong word. Maybe dislike is better, or indifferent is even better than that. They have a different mama than I do, and I’m quite a bit older than they are. It’s always been a little crazy,” Dana said. “I think we’ve seen enough of the store. You ready to go to the house?”

“I’d rather go back to the kitchen and snatch that chocolate cake. I was serious about wanting to take it home. That’s the best icing I’ve ever eaten,” Brook said.

Dana inhaled deeply. Granny Annie and Zed had been family. The two sisters? They were related to Dana by blood, but not much else other than snatches of memories. Some of them good—some not so much.

“Mama?” Brook jerked her back to the present.

She blinked away the past and sighed. “I was kind of eyeballing that pan of cinnamon rolls, but we’ll have to leave a little bit of stuff for Uncle Zed.”

Harper was busy mopping the floors when they got to the café. She looked up at them and then down at her clean floor. “The part right inside the door is dry. What do you need?”

“Thought we’d take some desserts home with us,” Dana answered.

“Take all you want. Ain’t no use in keepin’ them.” Zed raised his voice from the kitchen. “Doctor said it was best for me to watch my sweets so I don’t have to take pills or shots.”

“Leave the banana pudding for me, or at least part of it. And a piece of pecan pie,” Harper said and went back to mopping.

“How long has it been since you three sisters were together?” Brook asked.

Harper stopped and leaned on the mop. “I was here at Easter last year, but only for the afternoon.”

“Brook and I came for Mother’s Day,” Dana said. “I remember that year well. It was the last time that we were all here together. Let’s see, you were about fifteen, right, Harper? Tawny was almost twelve and Brook was four. It was right after my divorce and just before Brook and I moved to Houston.”

“And you go by Clancy now?” Tawny asked.

“The only benefit of my divorce. Brook and I got to be Clancys again.”

“So have y’all changed much?” Brook asked.

“We all got older.” Harper smiled.

“Well, duh,” Brook smarted off.

Harper stopped and leaned on the mop. “She reminds me of Tawny at that age.”

“She’s got some of you in her, too,” Dana said.

“I bet that makes you real happy.” Harper’s tone held an edge of sarcasm.

“Nope, it does not, because that means she’s like our father, and God only knows I’d rather she’d be like my mother. Mama might be wild and crazy, but she didn’t abandon me,” Dana said.

“There’s more than one way to abandon a kid,” Harper whispered.

“You got that right. Come on, Brook, let’s get to the house and finish putting things right,” Dana said.

They were out of the café, each of them carrying a dessert, when Brook asked her mother, “What did Aunt Harper mean by that?”

“Have no idea. You’ll have to ask her, but don’t expect an answer. I tried to get in touch, but . . .” She shrugged.

“And Aunt Tawny?”

“I called her on the day she graduated from high school, but she was too busy to talk to me. So I figured that they knew where I was and if they wanted to get in touch, it was on them,” Dana told her.