“So, here’s the thing,” I begin. “My mom says that she tried to come for me several years ago, but Moony wouldn’t let her take me. Something about things she could tell the authorities. I just…I don’t see Moony doing that, but I don’t think my mom is lying about this. Sometimes she remembers things wrong, she gets…ideas. I don’t know. I thought maybe you knew more than me.”

Eric leans in. “I know your grandmama meant the world to you. And she was a good neighbor—quiet and kept her property up, even if she did look at Deena like she wanted to run her over with her car. But it’s no secret in this town that Edna Gage could be—how should I put this? Rigid.”

I know he’s right, and I sigh into my lavender tea. Moony intimidated people sometimes. She had a certain way of being and a certain way of believing, and she didn’t make a lot of room for anything else. “I know the effect she had on people.”

“Then you know she could be hard to get along with.”

I nod.

“Is it any real surprise to you that she and your mother butted heads?”

When he puts it like that, I feel foolish for thinking otherwise. It seems inevitable they would have had their struggles. “No, I guess not.”

“I like your mother, Cat. She’s had her troubles, sure, but who among us hasn’t? She’s trying. And from what I hear, her road hasn’t been easy. I may be new to this town, but Damien grew up here. And people talk; they can’t help themselves.”

“You mean about her bipolar disorder?”

“I mean more than that,” he says, leaning over the table. “From what I understand, her road got rocky long before a diagnosis. In fact, most people here think all of that turmoil had something to do with her breakdown. They feel sorry for her.”

“What turmoil?”

“You never met your grandfather, did you?”

I shake my head. “No. He died before I was born.”

“Well, let’s just say it wasn’t a happy marriage. Edna kept her troubles to herself, but there was speculation.”

“Speculation?”

“Rumors of an affair. Maybe even more than one. Mary was the apple of her father’s eye. A real daddy’s girl. They were a house divided.”

I let that sink in. I can’t imagine a man brave enough to cross Moony.

“But you know, that’s Catholics for you. Unhappy as they were, they never would have considered divorce. By the time Mary got to high school, it was well-known that the only person Moony had a harder time getting along with than her husband was her daughter. Harold was the buffer between those two. When he passed, your mother had no one.”

“You make it sound like Moony was abusing her or something.”