Patterns of Change

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Patterns of Change Page 20

by Terri DuLong


  “Oh, that would be great. I know you enjoy their company.”

  “I do. How’s it going with you?”

  “Pretty good. All of my photo shoots are going well but they’re keeping me busy. I figure I should be down there as I’d planned in about six weeks.”

  I was surprised when I glanced at the clock an hour later. We certainly didn’t lag for things to talk about.

  “Well, Henry, I really should get going here. Today is the day that I’m finally going to tackle my stash of yarn and get it all properly put away.”

  I heard his chuckle as he said, “Good luck with that. I’ll call again soon.”

  I headed upstairs to begin sorting the various skeins of yarn first. For once and for all I was going to separate my sock yarn from my worsted from my lace fingering yarn and get everything in order.

  Two hours later I had various stacks placed around my bedroom and began filling the plastic bins with cotton, bamboo, silk, and all the other fibers that I had. I was very grateful to have such a large walk-in closet in my bedroom. A very wide U-shaped wooden shelf went around the entire upper perimeter of the closet. This would hold quite a few of the bins, but I’d need a stepladder to reach up there and utilize all of the space.

  After finding one in the kitchen closet, I came back upstairs and began the task of placing the bins on the shelf. When I went to place the first bin I gave it a shove in order to push it all the way back on the shelf. That was when a portion of the wall, about a square foot in size, collapsed inward. What the heck? It looked like a small opening had been purposely fitted into the closet wall. I tried to peer inside but it was too dark.

  I climbed back down the ladder and went in search of a flashlight. I came back and shined the light inside. There sat a wooden box with a hinged clasp in front. I reached in to remove it and realized it was one of those little keepsake boxes women love to hide.

  I brought it over to the bed and sat down staring at it. And that was when I saw the initials E and O engraved into the top in fancy script. This box belonged to Emmalyn Overby!

  I didn’t think twice about opening it and lifted the lid. The first thing I saw was a photograph, and I felt a chill go through me as I removed it for a closer look. There was no denying it. The woman in the faded color photo had to be Emmalyn—head thrown back with auburn hair cascading down in waves, a huge smile covering her beautiful face, a champagne glass held in the air, and wearing a beautiful red evening gown. Not only was I positive this was Emmalyn Overby—but she was identical to the woman in my dreams.

  “Oh, my God,” I said out loud. “How can this be possible?”

  I had never met Emmalyn, had never seen her photo, certainly never knew her, and yet she had appeared in my dreams. I felt another shiver go through me.

  I let out a deep breath, placed the photo on the bed beside me and reached inside the box to remove the remaining items. Canceled tickets from the Peabody Auditorium in Daytona Beach for a performance of My Fair Lady. A cork from a champagne bottle. A peacock feather. A beautiful piece of rose quartz crystal, and at the very bottom, white pages of what appeared to be a letter. They were not in an envelope. I unfolded the crisp sheets and began to read.

  June 1966

  Dear Emmalyn,

  Needless to say, I was shocked to receive your news. I am so terribly sorry for something that never should have happened. I don’t even know how to respond. What to say or do. You didn’t indicate in your letter how you plan to handle this. I only wish that I were there in person to help fix this situation. If that is even possible. I will support you in any way that I can. All I ask—beg—of you is please do not tell Mavis Anne that this baby is mine. You know that one night was my first and only infidelity. You also know that I love Mavis Anne and would never want to hurt her so horribly with this news. Please think of her as you decide. I had my leave in March and you know it’s not possible for me to get home right now. But please let me know what you plan to do. Again, I’m so terribly sorry this happened.

  Jackson

  I lost count of the number of times I read the pages before the words finally began to penetrate. There was no doubt that this letter was meant to be kept private—between only two people. And almost fifty years later it was I who’d found it.

  Could this even be possible? That Jackson had cheated on Mavis Anne with her sister, Emmalyn? And compounding that situation—could it be possible that Yarrow was Jackson’s daughter? Did Mavis Anne or Yarrow have any knowledge of this?

  A million thoughts raced through my mind as I sat there holding the pages in my hand and losing track of time. It was the sound of Basil whining that brought me back to reality.

  “Yes, sweetie,” I said, standing up and feeling like I’d been in a daze. “Come on. I’ll let you out.”

  I followed Basil down the stairs, through the house to the kitchen, and opened the French doors for him. It was when I glanced across the way that I knew what I had to do. I had to speak with David.

  When I called him, I needed to confirm that Mavis Anne wasn’t there, that I needed to speak with him in private. When he assured me she was gone for the day with a friend of hers, I told him I’d be over in five minutes.

  “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” he asked as I sat on a stool at the counter. “Coffee, tea, a glass of wine?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  “So what’s the need for privacy?”

  I cleared my throat and hoped I was making the right decision by sharing what I’d found with David. “Well . . . I was finally sorting through my yarn stash . . . um . . .” I glanced up to see David giving me a blank stare. “Right. Well, while I was attempting to place the bins on the shelf in my bedroom closet, I found something.”

  “Okay.”

  I cleared my throat again. “Did you ever suspect that something might be going on between Emmalyn and Jackson?”

  “Going on?”

  “Yeah. Like did you ever think maybe Jackson cheated on Mavis Anne with Emmalyn?”

  He let out a deep sigh. “The thought did cross my mind.” He sighed again. “Oh, not because of Jackson. No. He was very devoted to Mavis Anne. That was obvious. But because of Emmalyn. She was difficult for most men to resist and she seemed determined to turn his head. Why do you ask?”

  “I found a letter hidden in a box that had been stashed in a wall space in the closet. Did you ever think that possibly . . .”

  “Yarrow is Jackson’s daughter?”

  I let out a gasp. “You knew?”

  “I suspected, but there was no proof.”

  I removed the letter from my pocket and slid it across the counter.

  David reached for a pair of half-moon glasses and began to read.

  He removed the glasses and nodded. “So now there is proof.”

  “Why did you suspect this? And does Mavis Anne know?”

  “I guess I suspected because of something that Mavis Anne said years ago. Yarrow was around ten and she was outside playing. Mavis was watching her from the French doors and out of the blue she said to me, ‘Don’t you think Yarrow resembles Jackson?’ and I did. But I had always chalked it up to coincidence.”

  “Oh, my God, so it probably is true.”

  David nodded. “I’d say almost certainly, yes, it’s true. Jackson had been home on leave three months before he was killed. It’s pretty obvious that’s when it happened, and I guess this letter is the proof because it’s dated in June. He must have written it just before his plane went down.”

  “But if you think that, Mavis Anne probably also knows . . . how on earth can she still be so in love with him? To this day, she says he was the love of her life.”

  “Because he was and I have no doubt that Jackson felt the same way about her. I think this letter now also proves that. But Mavis Anne wasn’t always so forgiving. Oh, no. As I told you before, she had a love/hate relationship with her sister. I don’t think it was until Emmalyn died and Yarrow came to live with
us permanently that she truly forgave Emmalyn. I think she considered Yarrow a gift—a gift from Jackson. To this day, she adores Yarrow and would do anything for her. She once told me that part of loving is also forgiving.”

  A shiver went through me. Love is forgiveness. That was what Emmalyn had said in my dream.

  “What about Yarrow?” I asked. “Do you think she knows?”

  “I honestly can’t answer that. She’s never seemed curious about who her father was. Not even as a child. It was as if she simply accepted the family she had and that was enough for her.”

  “What will you do now? Will you show Mavis Anne the letter?”

  David remained silent for a few moments. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what I’ll do. I’ll hold on to the letter and give it some thought. Some things are better left unsaid, but maybe after all these years, Mavis Anne has a right to know the truth.”

  I got up from the stool and placed a kiss on David’s cheek. “You’re a great brother,” I told him. “If I had a brother, I’d want him to be exactly like you.”

  Chapter 37

  I would never discuss the information I’d found with anybody in Ormond Beach, but the following week I knew I had to share it with Grace. I also knew that Grace would never violate the trust of a secret.

  “God, that’s really sad,” she said. “All of it. The fact that Jackson and Mavis Anne never had the chance to live the life they’d hoped for. It’s also sad that Mavis Anne didn’t have a child with him, but her sister did. And Yarrow . . . poor Yarrow still doesn’t know who her father was.”

  I agreed. “It is all pretty sad.”

  “I remember when Berkley came to Cedar Key searching for information about her mother. I guess Yarrow doesn’t have that same inquisitiveness about her dad. I wonder what Emmalyn ever told her about him?”

  “I don’t know. She never mentions him at all. But as David said, she’s probably content with the family she does have and that’s enough for her. So what’s going on there? Any bites on the house?”

  “Not a one. Sales on the island are still way down. But we’ll keep it listed and see what happens. Lucas is definitely closing the bookshop in December so he’s working on discounting the books. What’s left over he plans to donate to the library.”

  “That’s a good thing to do. Do you know yet when you’ll be leaving for France?”

  “Our plan is to go around March. We’ll stay with Lucas’s sister while we make the final arrangements on the farmhouse. But you’ll come here to visit before we go, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will. I’ll definitely be over for a few days around Christmas and I’ll bring more of my stuff back here.”

  “Yeah, we have to arrange to have our furniture and household items shipped to France. That’ll be a job.”

  “If you need any help, I can arrange to come to Cedar Key.”

  “Thanks, but you have enough to do there with the shop opening in a few weeks. Besides, Sydney, Marin, and Berkley have all insisted they’ll be helping me pack.”

  “I’m so excited for you, Grace. You have a whole new adventure ahead of you.”

  Her laugh came across the line. “So do you.”

  After I hung up with Grace, I headed out to get some errands done. Since it was Thursday morning, I made a stop at the farmer’s market downtown for fresh produce. Then I drove down Beach Street to Daytona Beach and Angell and Phelps to stock up on chocolate. On the way home, I made a stop at Publix to do some food shopping.

  Basil greeted me when I walked in the back door with the groceries. I smiled as I unloaded the bags and watched him dancing in circles, hoping that I’d remembered something for him.

  “Yes, I remembered you,” I told him, opening a new box of Milk-bone biscuits. “Here ya go.”

  He took the biscuit and ran toward the living room as my cell phone indicated I had a text. I was right in thinking it was from Haley. Most everybody else preferred a live phone conversation to texting. So I was surprised to see she’d written to ask that if I wasn’t busy, could I call her.

  “Hey, Haley, what’s up?”

  “Hi, Chloe. Nothing much. I know you prefer talking on the phone rather than texting.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’m from the old school, I guess. How are you and your mom doing?”

  I heard a groan. “Okay. School starts next week for me and Mom’s been trying to find a job.”

  “Any luck there?”

  “None. I told her if maybe she’d take some college classes and get trained in something, it might be a lot easier.”

  This kid was pretty mature for thirteen years old.

  “I’m happy to see you already understand the value of an education. Hey, don’t you have a birthday coming up soon?”

  “Yeah, September fourteenth and I turn fourteen this year, so maybe this will be my lucky year.”

  I laughed. “Could be. How’s the exercise and food plan going?”

  “Great! I’ve lost ten pounds since we arrived at your house.”

  “Oh, Haley, that’s super. I’m really proud of you.”

  “Yeah, and Mom said I could join the local gym, so I’ve been going there every day to work out.”

  “I really am so proud of you. That’s wonderful. Keep up the good work.”

  “Hey, I wanted to ask you something. Didn’t you go to the Savannah School of Design?”

  “Yeah, I graduated from there. Why?”

  “I think that’s where I’d like to go after high school. I gave some thought to what you said about my fashion designs and they have a great program there.”

  “They do. That would be wonderful. You sure seem to know what you’d like to do for a career.”

  “It’s something I think I’ll enjoy, and I remember my dad telling me a few years ago to choose something that I’m passionate about. He said if you’re going to work, you may as well be doing something you love.”

  “Very wise advice. Have you seen your dad lately?”

  “Not that much. Only once since we got back. How’s Basil doing?”

  “He’s doing great. In the other room chomping on his biscuit.”

  Haley laughed. “Well, I have to get going. I’m going to the gym twice a day now and I have a Zumba class in an hour.”

  “Okay. Say hi to your mom for me and we’ll talk again soon.”

  I hung up and shook my head. That girl really was wise beyond her years. I had no doubt that Gabe would be extremely proud of her.

  After I got the bags of food put away, I folded some towels and then decided to sit in the shade on the patio with my knitting. With the breeze off the ocean it was comfortable being outside. I looked up to see Mavis Anne coming through the back gate. I hadn’t seen or heard from her since I’d spoken to David.

  “Are you busy?” she called out, as she made her way to the patio with the assistance of her cane.

  “Not at all. I was just going to do some knitting. Come and join me.”

  “I don’t have my knitting with me, but I’ll sit a spell.”

  “Would you like some coffee or iced tea?”

  “Not right now. Thanks. I wanted to let you know that the computer for the yarn shop will be delivered tomorrow. I just got off the phone with Office Depot. I have a doctor’s appointment, so I was wondering if you could be here for the delivery. And the next day Brighthouse will be out to install the wifi service.”

  “Terrific. Yes, I’ll be around all day tomorrow. So not a problem. Do you know how much longer the workmen will be in there? I’m anxious to get in and start arranging all the yarn.”

  Mavis Anne laughed. “I know. I am too. Ed said they should be completely finished by the end of next week. They’re waiting for some light fixtures to be delivered and they’re finishing up the work in the tea shop. So once that’s done, we can get in there and start arranging things. The furniture will be delivered on the third, so that’ll give us five days to get everything set up. Oh, and Office Depot is also delivering th
e cherrywood desk that we got for the computer.”

  “Wow, it’s really all starting to come together. How’s Yarrow doing on her end?”

  “That’s also right on schedule. She has a delivery of all the tea and coffee on the first. I spoke to her this morning and she said she’s glad she closed her shop a few weeks ago because she’s been really busy trying to get everything in order for Nirvana. Yesterday she went to Sam’s and stocked up on paper goods and today she’s working on getting somebody from the Daytona Journal to come and do a feature on the new yarn and tea shop for the newspaper.”

  “Gosh, I feel like a slouch. Is there anything at all that I could be doing?”

  “You’re doing enough working on that shawl. How’s it coming?”

  I held it up for her inspection.

  “Oh, Chloe. It’s simply stunning. The women will love that. Oh, you know, there is something you could do when you get a chance.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Could you put together some kind of calendar for classes and events? We’ll have the computer tomorrow, so maybe you could do it on there and then print it out to hang on the bulletin board we’ll put in the shop. I think the very first thing we should plan is the knit-along for Chloe’s Dream. What do you think?”

  “I agree. Yes, I’ll get on that tomorrow after the computer is up and running. What other classes do you think we should schedule? Any ideas?”

  “Well, I think for October maybe we could do a class on brioche. That’s such a pretty technique and I have some nice patterns for sweaters and other items done in that stitch.”

  “Great. As soon as I finish up the shawl, I’ll begin working on some new things to display in the shop. I also have a lot of my finished pieces that Grace brought to me, and we can display those as well. We’re still waiting for the manikins, huh?”

  “Yes, but I spoke to the distributor yesterday and she assured me they’d be here by the end of the week.”

 

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