“She surprised me too.” She imagined him mulling over this new piece of information. Sooner or later, he would put it together.

“Have you hired a real estate agent yet?” he asked.

“No. I’ll start making calls next week. I should have this place in good enough shape to show soon.”

“I’m still bidding on the house.”

“Seriously? Don’t you have enough going on next door?”

“I’ve always liked this house. It’s a great location, and the old-school vibe suits me.”

“Would you like to see the upstairs? I’ve cleaned it out well enough to move around.”

“Sure.”

She rose and climbed the stairs to the top floor, outfitted with two bedrooms. She moved to the front bedroom, where she was now staying. She grimaced at her unmade bed and her suitcase overflowing with the clothes she’d hurriedly dug through this morning as he moved to the window. “Fantastic.”

“I love waking up to that sight and the sound of the ocean. Don’t miss the honking horns and all the city sounds.”

“I can’t imagine. I keep telling myself this place would be a profitable rental, but I’m also considering buying it for myself.”

“Dani said your dad is living with you.”

“He is. But the house is small, and it’s set back in a wooded neighborhood. We both miss the ocean. There’s enough space for the two of us here.”

He looked in the other bedroom, frowned, and then headed back down the stairs. She followed, not sure if she should offer any color on the house or just let him process.

He opened the door to the spare room with all of Ruth’s paintings. “Have you decided what to do with these?”

“No. But I’m not selling them.”

“Good. She left them here for a reason.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She didn’t show these paintings to anyone. Once one was finished, she wrapped it up and started on the next. If she didn’t want you to have them, she would have disposed of them.”

“She had a heart attack. How could she know?”

“She’d become very nostalgic in her last few weeks. Connected with Dad and her cousin in Elizabeth City.”

“Who was that?”

“Mrs. Newsome, I think.”

“I called her and left a message.”

“She couldn’t make it to the funeral, because she’s confined to a wheelchair now. Her generation doesn’t check the cell phone messages as quickly. When she does, she’ll get back.”

“She’s of sharp mind?” Ivy tried to visualize the young Talley in the photo after seven decades.

“According to Ruth, she’s as sharp as a tack.”

“How old is she?” Ivy asked.

“Mideighties. She was a couple of years older than Ruth. Their mothers were sisters, I think.”

“There’s so much I don’t know about my family.”