Syndi Powell

Two-Part Harmony


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“Good night, Grammy! We love you!”

      Silence answered back. In the dark, Kelly reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. She raised her voice. “Love you always.”

      They held each other’s hands and cried until they fell asleep.

      GRAMMY’S FUNERAL WAS held on a rainy Thursday morning. The number of people that showed up to pay their respects amazed Kelly. Addy Sweet had been a part of the community of Lake Mildred for over eighty years. She’d seen the town grow from a few hundred souls to over ten thousand. She’d survived the lean years and enjoyed the plenty. She’d been a fixture at the Sweetheart, and no one could imagine what the bakery would be like without her. Megs had inherited her baking gene, thank goodness. Because if they were depending on Kelly to create pastries then they would go hungry waiting.

      Kelly tugged at the dark green cardigan that she’d thrown on over the simple black dress. The harsh colors probably washed her out, but then she looked pale no matter what she wore or how much makeup she put on. She hummed the beginning bars of her solo until a sob choked her, and she took a moment to calm herself. She could do this. She could sit through her grandmother’s funeral and sing her favorite song. She could say goodbye to the woman who had raised her since being a teen.

      Oh, Grammy.

      She entered the church and found Megs sitting in a pew at the front, kneading her bare foot. “I don’t know how people can wear heels all day.”

      “I don’t know how you can stand all day making dough, so we’re even.” She took a seat next to her sister and tried to count the number of people in the other pews. “I figured there would be a good turnout, but this is too many.”

      “She’s baked the cake for every wedding in Lake Mildred for sixty-plus years,” Megs said with a shrug. “As well as first birthday cakes, Valentine cookies and warm bread for the sick. People shared their joys and their sorrows with her. They loved her.”

      “We loved her more.”

      Megs gave a soft smile, then nodded toward the back. “I asked Sam to be one of the pallbearers. As well as Rick and some others who admired Grammy. But if you wanted to be one, I can add your name to the list.”

      Kelly shook her head. “No. I’m having enough trouble getting up the courage to sing. I’ve had stage fright before, but I’m not sure I can do this.”

      “You have to. Grammy would have wanted you to.”

      “I know.” She inhaled and held a breath, letting it go in a hum. She started to cough, then waved her hand at Megs. “I need some air.”

      The organ began playing, and both sisters paled. Megs gave her a shrug. “No time. Can you do this?”

      Kelly nodded and squeezed her sister’s hand before walking up the three steps to the dais where the microphone waited for her. She grasped it, removing it from the stand. Bowing her head, she let the bars of the intro play. Told herself that this was like any other singing gig. She’d been born to do this. Then it was her cue. She lifted her head and opened her mouth.

      Nothing came out.

      She glanced at the organist who played the intro again. She closed her eyes. She knew the words. She’d sung them thousands of times. She opened her mouth, but while the words were on the tip of her tongue, there was no sound. Her eyes wide now, she looked at Megs who watched her with a frown. She glanced at Sam who waited in the back of the sanctuary with the coffin. She shook her head, and hot tears filled her eyes. She looked at the floor, letting her hand with the microphone drop.

      Then Megs was standing next to her, putting her arm around her. Megs led the congregation, singing the first words of “Amazing Grace” as the pallbearers carried the casket with Grammy to the front.

      * * *

      EVERYONE GATHERED AT the Sweetheart after the cemetery, so it was a good thing that Megs had gone crazy with baking the last couple of days. Kelly rushed around pouring coffee and tea. Refilling napkin stands and plates. Making sure trays of pastries stayed full. Playing the ultimate hostess to her grandmother’s wake. She and Megs had debated about providing a luncheon, but anyone who knew Grammy would want pastry.

      Someone gently touched her arm. “Kelly, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Rick Allyn tried to give her a smile. “Your grandmother was really special.”

      “Thanks, Rick.” She eyed him from head to toe. “You’ve certainly grown up since high school. And Megs told me you got married.”

      He gestured to a short woman with long dark hair choosing a pastry. “That’s my Lizzie right there.” He waved her over and introduced her to Kelly. “Kelly and I dated briefly in middle school.”

      Kelly laughed. “Very, very briefly. It lasted all of a week.” She turned to Lizzie and smiled. “Jennifer Harrison suddenly grew boobs.”

      Lizzie laughed and almost choked on her bite of kruszczki. “These things are amazing. What are they called?” she asked.

      “They’re Polish angel wings.” Kelly glanced at the buffet of strudel, baklava, napoleons and mille feuille. “We always said Grammy was the United Nations of baking. And I guess my sister has kept up the tradition.”

      “Your grandmother made our wedding cake. It was fabulous.” Lizzie snuggled closer to Rick’s side. “But then the whole day was magical.”

      Kelly swallowed at the lump in her throat as the happy couple walked through the crowd, hand in hand. She’d never had a chance to do that. She was almost thirty and had never even had something close to love. What would her life be like if she had pursued romance as hard as she’d pursued her singing career? Maybe she’d have someone to hold her hand and help her through this day.

      She pivoted on her heel and banged into a wall of chest muscle. Before she could stop herself, she started to fall, but strong arms caught her and pulled her close. She looked up into startled hazel eyes. “You?”

      “Me.”

      She backed away from Sam. “You don’t need to keep an eye on me.”

      He shrugged. “Seems like every time I’m near you, something pushes us together, Kelly.”

      “Well, it needs to stop.” She ran her hands down her dress, smoothing it. She eyed him warily. “Maybe it’s you that’s doing that. How do I know that you aren’t pushing us together?”

      “I’m not that desperate for female attention.”

      No, he certainly didn’t look like he was desperate. She’d noticed the appreciative glances of women as he walked by them. The way they tried to get his attention. But he seemed oblivious to their drooling. She didn’t want to join the crowd and become one of their bunch. “The only attention you seem to want is mine.”

      “That’s not what’s going on.” He looked at her as if she talked gibberish. “It’s not like I’m seeking you out or anything.”

      But his actions made his words seem hollow. She didn’t reply; didn’t have any more time for this kind of debate. “Have you seen Megs? We’re running low on Black Forest cake, and I need more tea bags.”

      “Don’t worry about that right now. How are you holding up?”

      “Fine. I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. That’s why she wanted to keep moving and concentrate on anything else. “But I need Megan.”

      He took her hand and led her over to a quiet corner. She tried not to let the warmth of his hand in hers mean anything more than comfort. “You’re not fine, Kel. And staying busy won’t change anything.”

      “It’s what I have to do for now.” She let go of his hand reluctantly. “I don’t want to think too much.”

      He