Marilyn Pappano - Copper Lake Encounter

“I’d have cleaned the clutter if I’d known we’d be entertaining,” Mr. Obadiah said as he hung his hat on a hook inside the door, his suit coat on another.

“This isn’t clutter,” she disagreed. “This is just living. Besides, you’re entertaining all on your own.”

With a laugh and a wink, he gestured toward a photograph on the nearest wall. “This here’s my boy when he come to live with me. Good thing he grew into those ears, huh?”

“Hey, old man,” Ty said with genuine respect. “I got those ears from you.”

“I accept complete credit for the charm and the intelligence and your way with women, but I’m pretty sure the ears came from your own daddy. Now, you two go on and make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna check on dinner.”

Nev glanced around the room, its overstuffed furniture in muted floral prints, crocheted doilies and scarves on every table, a scarred wood floor with most of its finish gone covered by a faded fringed rug. As she circled an early American coffee table to sit in an armchair, Ty took a seat on the couch.

“Kind of like a time capsule, isn’t it? He never wanted to change anything after Grandma died.”

“I don’t blame him.” She gently stroked the ecru-shaded doilies draped over both arms of the chair. “The memories this room must have...”

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