Do I take his hand / you’re not supposed to touch strangers / but he offered first and now it would be rude / no, it’s like a handshake, that’s okay, handshakes are okay—
She took it with, she hoped, no obvious hesitation. His fingers were dry and hard and had calluses like bits of gravel.
He helped her down from the truck and handed down her suitcase. “Thank you,” said Selena.
“No problem. Post office is right over there.”
Selena took a step toward it, then stopped.Don’t forget.She walked up to the cab of the truck and said, carefully, “Thank you for the ride. You were right, it would have been a long walk.”
“Anytime,” said the old man. He lifted a hand in half a wave, and Selena waved back.
She felt a bit giddy as she approached the post office. She’d done it right. She hadn’t practiced getting a ride, but she hadn’t said anything stupid. It was an unexpected victory.
The post office stood in the center of town. It was the same square adobe style as the rest of the buildings, but there was a metal sign over the door that saidPost Office. Two of the strange green trees grew out in front, their leaves buzzing with cicadas.
Selena tied Copper’s leash to one of the porch posts and said, “Stay.” Copper fell over on her side with a drawn-out groan, the world’s most put-upon dog.
Next to the door was a little wooden sign with letters burned into it that saidBurnt Branch House.
Selena paused with her hand on the knob. Was that the name of the building? She’d seen named buildings in the city, but mostly they were named for historical figures.Burnt Branch House. Hmm.
She pulled the door open.
Inside it was all tile: red clay on the floor, bright blue for the counter. A line of painted sunflower tiles circled the wall. Even in the dim light, the room glowed with color. Selena had never seen a post office that was anything but industrial gray, and the sight made her want to grin in the same way seeing the quail had.
A stout woman sat behind the counter. She looked up and raised her eyebrows as Selena came in.
“Can I help you?”
Say it. Say it just like you practiced. It’ll be okay.
“I’m sorry to bother you ...” Selena reached into her backpack and pulled out the old postcard. The ink had blurred in a couple of places, and the stamp was half gone, but the name on the return was clear.Amelia Walker.
There was no street address, just the name of the town, which Selena had thought was odd until she came to Quartz Creek and saw how small it was.
“I’m looking for my aunt,” she said and slid the postcard across the tiles.
The woman behind the counter picked it up, flipped it to the back. A line formed between her eyes, and she looked up.
Her broad face was sympathetic, and even before she spoke, Selena knew.
No.No.She hasn’t said anything, you’re wrong, she hasn’t said anything so it isn’t real—
“Oh, honey,” said the woman. “I’m sorry. She passed away—only about a year ago. We didn’t know how to find her next of kin, or we would’ve tried to get out a letter.”
Selena was aware that she was staring straight ahead. Heat was rising up her face, to her eyes, and when it hit, she was going to burst into tears.
No, no, she can’t be—I came all this way—I can’t afford to go anywhere else—I can’t even afford a ticket back—
And then the old anxiety came back, and she realized she’d been standing there for much too long and the woman was looking at her.
“Thank you,” she said in a high, strangled voice. She might have said more, but she knew that it sounded like she was going to cry, and you didnotcry in public, that was something you definitely didnotdo. Her mother had always been very clear on that. “You might as well wet your pants on the street corner!” she’d said.
Selena turned away and practically ran out the door.
Copper was waiting there. Copper, who was big and solid and made of fur and bone and muscle. Copper, who loved her even though she didn’t deserve it. Selena crouched down and put her face in the black Lab’s shoulder.
A year ago. A year ago.The phrase beat in her head like a pulse.A year ago.
