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She said nothing about the letter, and as she left the kitchen, she murmured, “Nam myoho renge kyo.”
“Keep it up about fifteen or twenty minutes,” said Lori. “Maybe for you it would work.”
Shirley halted and considered a measured response. Then gave it up. She went upstairs to Stephanie’s bedroom, moving immediately to the closet. Stephanie was standing in the middle of the room staring up at the ceiling.
“What’s doin’?” Shirley asked her, hunting for the dress. It was a pale-blue cotton. She’d bought it the week before, and remembered hanging it in the closet.
“Funny noises,” said Stephanie. “It stopped now.”
“I know. We’ve got friends.”
Stephanie looked at her. “Huh?”
“Squirrels, honey; squirrels in the attic.” Her daughter was squeamish and terrified of rats. Even mice upset her.
The hunt for the dress proved fruitless.
“See, Mom, it’s not there.”
“Yes, I see. Maybe Willie picked it up with the cleaning.”
“It’s gone.”
“Yeah, well, let's put on the navy. It's pretty.”
Shirley was undressing her daughter’s denim skirt and ruffly-sleeved shirt, when the outside wind momentarily increased through the partly opened window. The white curtains fouled up her window seat display of toys. Three fell to the carpet. A green clay sculpture of a turtle was among them. Shirley strode quickly to the window and closed the gap. The wind had gone. The curtains became stilled. She retrieved the little fallen cut-out figures and replaced them on the seat, in front of the large bay window overlooking the steps outside the house.
“Honey, put on the plaid coat with the hood.” Shirley gently ordered and taking Stephanie's hand, quickly led her away from the window.
"Can you pull it tight around my neck, Mom? It's freezing." The girl said, trembling uncontrollably from the cold.