Carrie's grandmother's house was a big two-story affair—possibly a colonial?—that sat on the top of a hill. There were four pillars holding up the roof of the front porch, which was flanked by two huge bay windows, and more large windows dotted the front of the first and second floors at regular intervals. Painted white with black trim, the house had red and black striped awnings jutting out from all the windows. The touch of red gave the place a slightly rakish air, which Carrie would have liked if she hadn't felt obligated to disapprove. The driveway leading to the house was a gravel semicircle that swept around the expanse of lush green front lawn. “Looks like your average greensward,” Carrie said. “Or a golf course.” In the rearview mirror she saw Dan pick up on her sneer.

“Wait'll you see Ms. Lawson's tomato garden in the back,” he said defensively. “She's got four different kinds of heirlooms and takes care of them herself. She won't let me go near them.”

They pulled up to the front door of the house and stopped. Carrie sat rooted to her seat.

I can't go through with this, she thought. Screw closure.

But then Dan got out of the car and came around to her side to open the door, and it felt too late to say that she'd changed her mind.

I knew I should have driven myself, she thought.

The big front door of the house opened and a woman stood framed in the middle of the doorway, waiting.

If she does anything phony I'm out of here, Carrie thought. Any big actressy hugs, any reunion scenes, and we're done.

The woman didn't move. Her hands were jammed into her pockets. Was she nervous too? There were three wide curved steps leading up to the porch. Carrie climbed up them and then she was standing in front of her grandmother. The woman whose facial features, legs, and cleavage Carrie shared.

Lu Lawson had aged well—she looked closer to seventy than eighty. Her hair was still thick and curly, and whoever did her color was a master; it was a soft brown with light golden highlights—no harsh old-lady dye job for her. Her face was surprisingly youthful; had she had some work done? If so, it had been very discreet. Lu was taller than Carrie thanks to high-heeled pumps, and she was wearing a pink wraparound silk dress that showcased a curvy figure with a small waist, and legs that were still world class. She wore glasses, chic and slightly oversize, with frames that were the same flattering shade as her hair. The big brown eyes behind them were studying Carrie as hard as Carrie was studying her.