Piper took a lot of pleasure in handing Opal the mirror.
“So?”
Opal gasped. “Is that me?”
Piper scoffed. “Hell yes, it’s you.”
“Well.” Her grandmother turned her head left and right. “Well, well, well.”
“Considering that night out a little more seriously now, aren’t we?”
“You bet I am.” She looked at herself in the mirror again, then back to Piper. “Thank you for this.” Opal took a long breath. “Will you . . . come back and see me again?”
“Of course. And I’ll bring Hannah next time.”
“Oh, I would just love that. She was so tiny last time I saw her.”
Piper leaned down and kissed Opal on both cheeks, which she seemed to find inordinately funny, then left the small apartment, surprised to find herself feeling . . . light. Buoyant, even. She navigated the streets back to No Name without the use of her phone’s map, recognizing landmarks as she went, no longer unfamiliar with the friendly smiles and circling seagulls.
The envelope holding Henry’s possessions was tucked into her pocket, and that seemed to anchor her in this place. She stopped outside of No Name, taking a moment to look up at the faded building, and this time . . . she tried to really see it. To really think about the man who made his livelihood within its walls, once upon a time. To think about Maureen falling in love with that man, so much that she married and conceived two daughters with him.
She was one of those daughters. A product of that love. No matter what Piper felt for her past, it was real. And it wasn’t something she could ignore or remain detached from. No matter how much it scared her.
Feeling thoughtful and a little restless, she went to find Hannah.
* * *
Piper and Hannah stared down at the phone, listening to their mother’s voice through the speakerphone. “I reached out to Opal several times throughout the years,” Maureen said. “She’s as stubborn as your father was. She saw my leaving as a betrayal, and there was no fixing it. And . . . I was selfish. I just wanted to forget that whole life. The pain.”
“You could have told me about her before I came,” Piper intoned. “I was blindsided.”
Maureen made a sound of distress. “I was right on the verge and . . .” Maureen sighed. “I guess I didn’t want to see your faces when I told you I’d been holding on to something so important. I’m sorry.”
Twenty minutes later, Piper paced the scuffed floor of No Name while Hannah sat cross-legged on a barrel eating French fries, a thousand-yard stare in her eyes. Her sister was still processing the news that they had a freaking grandmother, but she probably wouldn’t reach full understanding until she could be alone with her records.
Reaching out to rub Hannah’s shoulder comfortingly, Piper looked around and surveyed the space. Was she suffering an emotional upheaval from the shock of finding a long-lost family member . . . or was she starting to develop an interest in this place?
They’d been so young when Maureen moved them. It wasn’t their fault they’d forgotten their father, but they couldn’t very well ignore him now. Not with pieces of him everywhere. And this disheveled bar was the perfect representation of a forgotten legacy. Something that was once alive . . . and now corroded.
What if it could be brought back to life?
How would one even begin?
Piper caught her reflection in a section of broken glass peeking out from behind a piece of plywood. Her talent for finding the most flattering lighting could not be discounted, but there were only a couple of cobweb-covered bulbs, with no light fixtures. It was basically anyone over twenty-five’s worst nightmare, because it highlighted every crevice in a person’s face. The place had a certain speakeasy vibe that could really benefit from some soft, red lighting. Moody.
Hmm. She was no decorator. Maureen paid an interior designer to come in annually and refresh the house in Bel-Air, and that included their bedrooms. But Piper understood atmosphere. What inspired people to stay awhile.
Some men went to bars to watch sports. Or whatever. But what packed a bar full of men? Women. Appeal to the ladies, and men started coughing up cover charges just for a chance to shoot their shot.
Where would she even start with this place?
“Just for the sake of argument, let’s say we wanted to pretty this place up. Considering we have limited funds, do you think we could make it worthwhile?”
Hannah appeared caught off guard. “Where is this coming from?”
“I don’t know. When I was talking to Opal, I started thinking how unfair it is that Henry’s own family never grieved him. Sure, it was mostly Mom’s decision, but maybe this is a way to make amends. To . . . connect with him a little bit. To have a hand in the way he’s remembered. Is that silly?”