She melted at her grandmother’s concern. That was one of the hundreds of reasons Florence loved this woman. “Hello, Granny. I’m fine, just out late causing trouble.”

Granny patted Florence’s cheek, her expression filled with understanding and affection. “I’d expect nothing less from you, sweet child. We are alike in our restlessness, I’m afraid.”

“And beauty,” Florence added with an exaggerated wink.

“Not to mention our fondness for cards. Speaking of, we missed you at the weekly game yesterday. I won a diamond brooch.”

Florence hated missing her grandmother’s weekly euchre game. “I hope you weren’t cheating again.”

Granny chuckled. “As if I need to stoop to such antics. Come in and you may catch me up on your week.”

Florence smiled and nodded. As they went inside, she caught a glimpse of another empty lot farther up the street. “Why have all these houses been torn down recently?”

“Probably for another tall office building. Dashed things are a blight on our city. They offered to buy me out of this house.”

“Buy you out?” Florence closed the heavy wooden door, one that still had an indentation from her shoe. At nine years old, she’d been furious with Mamie and thrown a boot at her sister—thankfully missing—only to hit Granny’s front door. Her grandmother had laughed over the damage, telling Florence to work on improving her aim. Florence knew every inch of this house. She’d practically been raised here. “You didn’t sell, did you?”

“Goodness, no. They keep sending me letters with offers and I just let them pile up. I do not even bother to open them any longer.”

“That’s a relief. I love this house.” Granny’s home had been Florence’s refuge during her childhood. She’d spent nearly every weekend here. Now the entire Greene family gathered at Granny’s for each holiday.

“I know you do. That is why I left it to you in my will.”

This was not news. Granny had been saying as much for years, ever since Florence’s debut. “But you are never allowed to die.”

Granny’s mouth softened. “It happens to all of us, I’m afraid. I have such fond memories of this house, though. You know, your father terrorized his younger sister and brother right in these very halls.”

“He did?” Florence asked.

Granny took Florence’s arm and began leading her to the sitting room. “Oh, I have stories about your father that would make your toes curl. Maybe I’ll share them one day.”

“Can’t you tell us just one for today?”

“Oh, let’s see. There was the time he put a garden slug in your uncle Thomas’s slipper . . .”

Chapter Four