“I don’t blame her. When my mama dies, I’m going to give that job to my sister.” Sally met Lily halfway at the foot of the bed, grabbed Lily’s hands, and jumped up and down like a little girl. “We’re all together again. I’m so happy I could dance a jig in a pig trough on Main Street.”

Sally’s blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail. Shorter than Lily, she’d always carried a few extra pounds, but she’d been the life of the party when they were kids. Now she was divorced, had no children, and owned a cute little vintage boutique in Comfort.

She pulled a box cutter from the hip pocket of her jeans and asked, “What do you want opened first?”

“You got a concealed carry permit for that weapon?” Teena started piling clothing on the bed.

“Yep.” Sally nodded as she sliced through the tape on the nearest box. “It’s called a business license to sell antiques.”

Lily got to her feet. “Thank you both for being here.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for,” Teena said. “I’ll take the clothes off the hangers and fold them. Sally, you can hang up Lily’s stuff and repack the boxes. Lily, you start going through the dresser drawers.”

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Bossy Britches,” Lily teased.

“I’m the organizer, remember?” Teena wrapped her arms around the last load of clothing from the rack and put it on the bed. “Do you want to keep anything from all this?”

Lily shook her head. “I’ve got lots of memories. I don’t need a shirt or a dress to remind me of her. Anything in there you can sell at Yesterday’s Treasures?”

“It’s not old enough to be vintage,” Sally said, “but if she’s still got that pair of cat-eye glasses she wore stuffed in a drawer, I’ll pay you top dollar for them.” Sally was already busy putting Lily’s clothes on hangers and taking them across the room to the rack. “I get two or three requests for those every week.”

“If they show up, you can sure have them.” Lily opened the top dresser drawer and fought back the tears welling up in her brown eyes. The faint aroma of the little floral sachet in with her mother’s nightgowns brought back memories of all the times her mama had tucked her in at night, right up until she was in junior high school. The rose scent that her mother loved had lingered behind in Lily’s bedroom a long time after Vera had left the room every evening.

Teena sniffed the air. “I smell roses.”

“Mama’s sachet.” Lily held it up. “You’d think it would have lost all of its scent after five years.”