Legacy of lies
Chapter 3
"Megan? You made it!" the woman said, crumpling up the sign with my name on it, then giving me a big hug. "I'm Ginny Lloyd, your mother's best old friend." She laughed. "I guess you figured that out."
When Ginny heard I was coming, she'd insisted on meeting me at the airport close to Baltimore. THat October day we loaded my luggage into the back of her ancient green station wagon, pushing aside bags of old sweaters, skirts, shoes, and purses--items she had picked up to sell in her vintage clothes shop.
"I hope you don't mind the smell of mothballs," Ginny said.
"No problem," I replied.
"How about the smell of a car burning oil?"
"That's okay, too."
"We can open the windows," she told me. "Of course, the muffler's near gone."
I laughed. Blond and freckled, she had the same southernish accent as my mother. I felt comfortable with her right away.
When I was buckled in, Ginny handed me a map so I could follow our progress toward Wisteria, which is on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay.
"It's about a two-hour drive," she said. "I told Mrs. Barnes I'd have you at Scarborough House well before dark."
"I'm getting curious," I told her. "When Mom left Maryland, she didn't bring any pictures with her. I've seen a few photos that my uncle Paul sent, showing him and Mom playing when they were little, but you can't see the house in them. What's it like?"
"What has your mother told you about it?" Ginny asked.
"Not much. There's a main house with a back wing. It's old."
"That;s about it," Ginny said.
It was a short answer from a person who had spent a lot of time there as a child and teenager-- nearly as short as my mother's answers about the place.
"Oh and it's haunted," I added.
"People say that," Ginny said.
I looked up at her, suprised. I had been joking.
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