Chapter Seventy-Seven
Pete handed Violet the second copy of the key just before winter break.
“I made two extra sets,” he explained as he gave it to her. “The official spares are in a lockbox now in Madeline’s office.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took the key in her hand.
“Just let me know if you ever discover what you’re looking for, Violet,” Pete said. “I’m really hoping you do.”
“I don’t know if my hunch will prove correct, but I feel I have to try. My friend Theo already set up an appointment with us at Lynnewood Hall next week.”
“Great.” Pete grinned. “Let’s all hope for an interesting winter break, then.”
Christmas came on a Wednesday that year, and Theo and Violet, like most of the students at Harvard, were done with their classes by the Wednesday before.
Everyone was already eager to get back home and celebrate the holiday, before then having to study for their dreaded final exams that awaited them on their return.
Theo had decided to accept Violet’s offer to stay over at her family’s place in Philadelphia on Thursday, the 19th, so they could make their appointment at Lynnewood Hall early on Friday morning.
He had arranged everything, and their plan was that he and Violet would meet one of the administrators of the First Church at 9 a.m. The seminary would be shuttering shortly afterward to devote itself to Christmas masses and would be closed to outsiders until after the New Year.
And by then both of them would already have to be back on campus.
So making that meeting on Friday morning was crucial.
Sitting next to each other on the way down to Philly that Thursday morning, they shared a pretzel with mustard from the dining car and two Cokes.
“I’m excited about meeting your parents,” Theo said as he tore off another part of the pretzel and popped it into his mouth.
“Be prepared for far more cramped quarters than you have back home,” she warned. “And maybe don’t mention us going to the psychic to either of my parents. They’re not cool like your mom is with that sort of thing.”
“Sure, no problem,” he said. “Just promise we can get some cheese steaks in South Philly before I take the train home afterward.”
“That I can promise.” Violet grinned, then wiped her fingers clean of the mustard and salt.
Violet’s home was on the border of Fishtown, the historically working-class neighborhood of Philadelphia. The small row house that was northeast of the city’s center was modest but warm. Theo didn’t seem to notice how self-conscious Violet was as they stepped into its narrow vestibule.
Her mother’s cooking permeated the air. Meatballs and boiling spaghetti were on the stove. Her dad came out immediately and gave her a tight hug as her duffel fell to the ground.
“Welcome home, baby,” he said and kissed the top of her head.
“And this must be Theo…” Her father extended his hand and gripped Theo’s tightly. “We’re glad to have you for a couple days. I hear you both are doing some research up at the old Widener place. I haven’t been that way since I was a kid.”
“Yes,” Theo said. “We can’t wait to check it out.”
That evening over dinner, her mother apologized that the room Theo would be staying in wasn’t as tidy as she wanted.
“I hope you don’t mind, but it’s a bit of an obstacle course in there.” She gave a half-amused look to Violet. “My darling daughter has been promising me for forever that she’d go through my mother’s books and pick out what she wanted. You can imagine how well that’s going…”
“I don’t mind at all.” Theo grinned. “I’m just happy to be here.” He took another bite of one of her mother’s meatballs. “The food’s so good, I might not want to leave.”
After dinner, Violet and Theo went upstairs.
“I actually am sorry about the spare bedroom being so crowded with those boxes. I really do need to go through them,” Violet apologized.
“As you can see, there isn’t much space in mine.
” She let Theo peek inside her room. The walls were papered with a pink and green rosebud print.
The window over her cherrywood desk was flanked by two faded pink and white checkered curtains.
It was a room that had been decorated for a little girl, but over the years had been overrun by another motif—Violet’s genuine love of books.
Around the small interior, the perimeter was lined with wooden shelves filled with them.
On top of Violet’s nightstand was a stack of paperbacks, and around her bed were more towers of books.
“If Eleanor Widener saw this, I think she’d be inspired to build a second library.” He laughed.
“She’d probably be quite put off by the mess,” Violet said, smiling.
“Didn’t Da Vinci say ‘Small rooms discipline the mind, large ones distract it’?”
“My mind must be very sharp then.” She teased.
“Brilliantly sharp.” Theo playfully thumped her head. “But you know I would be happy to help you go through those boxes tonight.” He arched his neck toward the open doorway of the guest room. “Did she mostly like to read novels?”
“Honestly, she liked to read everything,” she said.
“But she had a particular affection for fairy-tale books,” she reflected.
“My grandma told me she was given a new fairy-tale book every year on her birthday while she was at the children’s home.
They’re all in one of those boxes over there,” she said, pointing to one of the stacks.
“But there’s one volume in particular she loved.
It was given to my grandmother by the headmistress of her orphanage right before she was adopted.
She insisted on giving it to me before she died because it was so special to her. ”
“I’d really love to see that. Having it handed to her on her last day at the orphanage,” he said. “It sounds like a detail from a Dickens novel.” He laughed.
“Even better, it doesn’t require us going through all those boxes,” Violet said. “I know exactly where that one is. I keep it on a bookshelf in my room.”
Theo followed her into her room, and she went straight to the shelf closest to her desk.
“Here. It’s this one.”
She pulled it off the shelf and handed the book to Theo.
“And it’s purple,” he said, as he touched the faded lavender cover, its canvas material embossed with gilt letters. “Is that why you’re named Violet?”
She blushed. Her mother always told her that on the day she was born, she looked at her and said she just didn’t look like the name they’d chosen in advance. Her grandmother held her in her arms and instead suggested Violet.
“I don’t know, but my grandma Helen really did love that book. And lavender always was her favorite color.”
He opened it gently, admiring the vibrant illustrations, turning each page carefully. When he got to the end, he questioned the little drawing of the bird in the corner of the end paper.
“Did your grandmother draw that?” he asked.
“You know, I noticed that but I always forgot to ask her about it,” she admitted. “And, sadly, now it’s too late.”
Theo brought the book up to his face, inspecting the doodle more closely. “Your grandmother’s name was Helen?”
“Yes, why?”
“I was just wondering, because if you look closely there are two letters by the bird’s feet. And neither of them are ‘H.’ They look more like an ‘A’ and an ‘L.’”
Violet peered more closely. “You’re right now that I look at it up close.” She shook her head. “And to my knowledge, we don’t have anyone with an ‘A’ or an ‘L’ in our family.”