“I thought you might like a visit, so I came by,” Savannah said cautiously, as her grandmother frowned.

“You should have called first. We don’t like northern ways here,” she scolded her. “Southerners are polite.”

“I’m sorry.” Savannah looked instantly apologetic and somewhat mortified. “I’ll come back another time and call first.” She started to leave and her grandmother pointed sternly to a chair.

“No, you’re here now. Sit down. Why did you come here?” She was curious about her, and Savannah looked scared. Her grandmother was a daunting figure, even as an old lady.

“I just thought it would be nice to visit. I like hearing all the stories about the war, the generals, the battles. We don’t learn much about that in New York.” It was true, but she had come mostly to be kind to an old woman, but couldn’t say that to her.

“What would you like to know?” Her grandmother smiled and was intrigued by the request. There was southern blood in her after all.

“Tell me about your family. It’s part of my history too.”

“Yes, it is,” Eugenie acknowledged, and she liked the idea of sharing it with this young girl. It was the best way for ancestors to be remembered and history to be passed on, telling stories from one generation to another.

She began with her great-grandfather, when he had come from France, and made her way down through several generations, marriages, and generals, when they came to Charleston, how much land they owned, and how many slaves. She made no apology for it, she said it was essential for cultivating the land, and how many slaves you owned was considered part of their wealth in those days. Savannah winced at that. It was a new idea to her, and not one she liked any more than any other culture that had owned slaves.

They eventually made it to the Civil War, and Eugenie’s eyes lit up. She knew every date and detail about every major battle in the South, all the ones that had been fought in and around Charleston, who had won them, who had lost. She added personal stories about who people were married to, if they’d been widowed, and if they’d remarried. She was a walking encyclopedia of Civil War and Charleston history, and Savannah was fascinated as she listened. Her grandmother had a fine memory for dates and details and talked for hours. No one had ever listened to her in such rapt attention for as long. It was dinnertime when she stopped. She had been revitalized by remembering every detail and sharing it with Savannah. And she had promised to share some books with her as well. Savannah actually loved it, and it intrigued her to think that she was related to some of those people. It was a whole other side of her life and history that she had never known anything about and wouldn’t have otherwise, were it not for her grandmother’s recollections.

Savannah thanked her profusely before she left, helped her into the small parlor where she liked to sit at night, and left her with one of her two ancient maids and kissed her cheek.

“That’s South Carolina blood in your veins,” she reminded Savannah, “and don’t you forget it! That’s not just Yankee blood in you!”

“Yes, Grandmother,” Savannah said, smiling at her. She had had a wonderful afternoon, and was still thinking about it as she drove back to Thousand Oaks.

Daisy complained about where she’d been so late, and Savannah said quietly that she’d been to see their grandmother.

“All by yourself?” Daisy looked surprised as Savannah nodded. “It’s so boring there!” Daisy hated going to see her, there was nothing for her to do, and her grandmother was so old. She hated all that “general” stuff her grandmother talked about.

“No, it’s not boring,” Savannah defended her. “She knows everything about everything and everyone in the South. I learned a lot.” Daisy made a face in response. She couldn’t think of a worse way to spend an afternoon. When her grandmother tried to tell her about her roots, she didn’t want to know. She’d rather stay home and watch TV. Seven years older, Savannah had soaked it up like a sponge.

Daisy’s parents were out at a dinner party that night, together for once, so Savannah never got a chance to tell her father about the visit. But his mother told him the next day when he stopped by to see her after lunch.

“She’s a very good girl,” Eugenie said, looking at him. He had no idea who she meant, and he thought it was the maid, whom she often referred to that way. She also called male employees “boys,” which seemed rude. But it was of her times.

“Who?” Tom said, looking blank.

“Your daughter,” she said with a spark in her eye he hadn’t seen in a while.

“Daisy?”

“Savannah! She came here for a history lesson, about the South. She listens carefully, remembers everything. That’s southern blood in those pretty young veins. She wanted to know everything about our family, and more. She’s a very special girl.”

“I know she is,” he said, looking amazed. “She came here alone?”

“Of course,” his mother snapped at him. “You don’t suppose your wife brought her here? Luisa is going to drive me insane if she doesn’t stop complaining about that child.” His mother looked sour about it and shook her head, which surprised him too.

“Does she call you about it?” Tom looked upset. He knew Luisa had called her once, but not more than that, about Savannah.

“Almost every night. She wanted me to use my influence on you to send her back. That’s not right if her life is in danger, which you say it is, and that’s probably true. Why would you lie about that?”

“I haven’t. There have been some very upsetting letters sent to Savannah, presumably from a man who killed eighteen women. He’s in custody, but he’s got friends on the outside who have been dropping the letters off at their apartment. If it’s him. If it’s not, it’s someone else just as bad. I think Alexa is right to want her out of New York.”

“So do I. There’s no reason to risk that child. Or even frighten her. Eighteen women, my word, how awful…what is Alexa thinking, taking cases like that?” She looked critical as she said it.

“She’s an assistant district attorney,” Tom said quietly. “She has no choice. She has to take what they assign her. That’s her job.”

“Noble of her, but much too dangerous, for a woman,” his mother said, a little more gently. It almost amused Tom that now his mother was protecting her and Savannah, after telling him to banish them in the first place. How soon people forget their own perfidies and crimes. “In any case, Luisa wants Savannah run out of town, and she expected me to do it, and tell you to send her back. She got what she wanted ten years ago. She got you. She has Daisy. She got her boys back, she doesn’t need to hurt Savannah now to prove the point further, or her mother. We all did quite enough ten years ago. I told Luisa to stop hounding me about it. She wasn’t pleased.” Tom imagined that she wasn’t. Her mother-in-law had been her chief ally and partner in crime all those years before and ever since.

“Do you regret it, Mother?” he asked her honestly. He had never dared to ask her before. She hesitated before she answered, sitting in her rocking chair with a shawl over her lap, and looking very old and fragile. He knew she was less frail than she appeared, and strong as iron in her will and opinions.

“Sometimes. It depends how Alexa’s life has turned out. If she’s happy, I suppose it was all right. I don’t know,” she said, looking distressed. “I didn’t want Daisy to be illegitimate, and Luisa was putting a lot of pressure on me then too, but I was younger then.” He had fallen right into Luisa and his mother’s trap for him. She had seduced him and gotten pregnant all in the same night, although he had been courting her secretly for several weeks and would have gotten there on his own. He had never gotten over Luisa leaving him for someone else, it had gnawed at him for all those years. He loved Alexa, but Luisa had been more powerful and more glamorous, and more southern. Alexa had been kind and open and naïve and loving, and trusted him completely. He still felt sick when he thought about it. “Is she happy?” his mother asked him then, and he sighed.