Chapter 3
Opening her eyes, Til blinked against the brightness of the sun. Though uncertain how much time had passed, she realized that she was no longer in Maplewood Park, but sitting at the base of the Angel of GraceTown statue.
Though the angel was a popular tourist attraction, today no one else was in this area of the town square. Instead of the floral dress and serviceable shoes Til had worn to the card party, she now wore sneakers, a stretchy kind of jean fabric for pants and a sleeveless top in an eye-popping blue.
Til reached up to touch the strand of hair that the wind blew in her face. The color was no longer cloud-white, nor the dark brown of her youth, but a pretty honey blond.
Her heart gave a solid thump against her chest. Was she hallucinating? Was this some kind of drug trip?
Scrambling to her feet, she moved her shoulders and legs and realized the aches and pains that had become her constant companion the last few years were gone.
She stretched and extended her fingers, noticing the age spots and wrinkles were gone. No, this felt too real to be a hallucination. On the outside, and at the core, she was different.
Eager to see if she looked as young as she felt, Til glanced down, expecting to see her pocketbook, which had a tiny mirror nestled in one of the side pockets.
Instead, there was only the manila envelope and violin case that Serena had given her. Ignoring the violin, Til opened the envelope and pulled out the contents.
Along with her book, the official documents that Serena had promised were there. For a long moment, Til studied the picture of Emily on the driver’s license.
Instead of an old woman, a young woman smiled back at her. So pretty. So incredibly young. So different.
Til studied the picture even more closely. Was this really how she looked now? No way to know until she found a mirror.
Grabbing the violin case and the envelope, she considered next steps. Having identification was all well and good, but that wouldn’t get her a place to stay or fill a belly that would soon want food.
What had Serena said to her? Something about her knowing how to find what she would need?
The bank was clearly out. She didn’t have the necessary identification. If she attempted to withdraw money from an old woman’s account, a bank where she had done business for half a century, she would likely be arrested.
Heck, if they’d already found her body in the park, that would make her attempt to withdraw funds even more suspicious.
Her lips quirked up in a wry smile. In a way, she did have something to do with it. She had, after all, drunk the liquid that had ended Matilda Beemis and birthed Emily Curtis.
Enough silliness. The sky overhead had turned dark, and she had enough experience with the weather in this part of the country to know when a storm was moving in.
First things first.
Money for food and a place to stay.
One raindrop plopped on the ground before her. Then another.
From the time she’d been a little girl, Papa had stressed the importance of setting aside money for a rainy day.
Not in a bank, because banks could fail. He’d been a young man when the stock market had crashed in 1929. That was why he’d always had cash set aside in a coffee can hidden in the house.
Til had not experienced a bank failure, but she’d followed his lead and kept a healthy sum of cash in the same coffee can he’d once used. She stored it in the lean-to at the back of her house, in the area where she kept her gardening supplies.
Unless a person knew where it was, they’d never find it.
Taking it wouldn’t be stealing. It was her money, hard-earned and set aside for a rainy day.
As Til glanced up at the once-blue sky now gone dark, thunder rumbled. If this wasn’t a rainy day, she didn’t know what would qualify.
Glancing up at the sky one more time, Til took off running. Even as the rain began to fall, joy filled her as she realized she was actually able to run.
Not wanting to draw the attention of neighbors who might wonder about a stranger standing on Matilda Beemis’s front porch, Til entered the property from the back alley.
The key was right where she’d hidden it, on the underside of the kitchen window, held in place by a thin wire. Opening the back door, she stepped inside and stood there, breathing in the familiar scent of rosemary, thyme and mint emanating from the herb garden in the pots on the shelves in this utility area.
This was her house, the place she’d loved and made a home. For a moment, the realization of all that had changed had tears springing to her eyes.
With one sip of the youth elixir, her days of puttering in her garden, of clipping herbs for a special dish or to add flavor to a salad had ended. That had been Til’s life.
She was Emily now.
Had she made a mistake? Even as she crouched down and pushed aside clay pots and gardening tools, she felt a pang of, well, something.
Not regret, but sadness over the friends and things—like this house—that she would leave behind.
Her searching fingers found the coffee can, the bills covered by dozens of rags, some holding the faint smell of peat moss. She pulled out the can and set it on a drop-leaf table that had seen better days.
She was glancing around for a canvas bag where she could place the cash and the important papers when she remembered the letters.
Those, she would not leave behind.
Inside the quiet home where the scent of cinnamon lingered from the monkey bread she’d baked yesterday, Til found not only the canvas tote, but the letters bound with a pretty lavender ribbon.
She also found a mirror.
The young woman who stared back looked nothing like her. Her dark hair was now the honey-blond that her favorite movie star had once sported, a color she’d envied. Even her eye color had changed—brown had become blue.
After casting one last look in the mirror, Til carefully placed the letters in the tote—along with the envelope Serena had given her—then slipped out the back door.
She stood for a moment, silently offering a good-bye to the home that had given her shelter for so many years.
This clapboard house had been where she’d dreamed so many dreams over the years. There had been one dream in particular that had recurred numerous times.
A man waiting for her, his heart filled with love and his arms outstretched.
The man wasn’t Vince. Til had quit pining for him long ago. This was someone else. Occasionally, when she was having difficulty falling asleep, she would think of the man, and sometimes she would feel his arms closing around her.
Though the encounter gave her comfort, Til never mentioned him to her friends. It seemed the kind of fantasy more suited to a young girl than a mature woman.
Til hadn’t chosen to drink the liquid because of a dream of finding her fantasy man, but because of how she felt right now.
Her body was young and agile again, her brain firing on all cylinders. The future stretched out before her, offering a life that was hers for the taking.
Emily Curtis had no responsibilities beyond herself. Not that Til regretted caring for her father after his stroke or having limited choices in a career.
When she’d been young, there had been only three choices open to women—teacher, nurse, housewife.
As a teacher, she’d built a good life for herself.
Now, the opportunities were endless.
Til hefted the canvas bag over her shoulder and lifted the violin case. All was good. She had enough money to tide her over.
It was now time to find a place to stay.
The Graceful Oasis Hotel, located in GraceTown’s historic district, had literally risen from the ashes of a previous business after the interior was gutted by fire in the 1990s. When that owner decided to take the insurance money and relocate his business elsewhere, a young entrepreneur named Ken Edwards had seen the possibilities.
He’d purchased the building with its downstairs camera shop and handful of small studio apartments upstairs and repurposed the space into a quaint boutique hotel.
The way it was now, with a main-level kitchen and communal eating area, reminded Til of a BB masquerading as a hotel. It had been a charming addition to this area of downtown.
Rates were reasonable, and the rooms were usually full, at least according to Chloe.
Chloe.
Til put one foot in front of the other, the hotel now in sight. Her heart sighed at the thought of Chloe. She would miss all her friends, but Chloe, well, Chloe was like family.
Twenty years ago, Til’s path had crossed with Chloe’s mother at a community event. She and Inez Patrick had begun talking, and a connection had formed. Neither Inez nor her husband had family in the area, and somehow Til had ended up becoming a de facto grandmother to seven-year-old Chloe.
When Inez and Forrest had begun traveling more for their business, Til had stepped up to help. Either Til would stay at Chloe’s house, or Chloe would stay with her.
The day Chloe left for college had been a sad one for Til. Then her parents had moved to Paris, which meant that Chloe hadn’t come back to GraceTown as often.
Earlier this year, after working in Miami for several years after college, Chloe had unexpectedly returned to GraceTown. The young woman had been so busy getting settled the past few months that Til hadn’t seen much of her. She’d been looking forward to rekindling their bond.
Now, hopefully she would start a new friendship with Chloe as Emily.
Stepping up to the shiny mahogany desk in the hotel lobby, Til felt her heart slam against her ribs. She flashed a smile at Chloe.
“Welcome to the Oasis.” Chloe’s wavy brown hair tumbled around her shoulders, and the smile on her red lips was reflected in her amber eyes. “How may I help you?”
Not a single flicker of recognition. Not that Til had expected any. “I was wondering if you have a room for one available?”
“How many nights?”
Though Til didn’t know the exact rate for a room at the Oasis, she needed a home base until she secured permanent lodging. “Two weeks?”
Chloe’s brows pulled together as she studied the computer screen. “For one guest?”
“Yes.”
Chloe nodded as her gaze returned to the screen. Then she looked up and smiled. “You’re in luck. We have one room, a lovely one on the top floor. The space can only accommodate a twin bed, which is why it is available. It’s…”
The amount Chloe quoted had Til’s mouth going dry. “That much?”
“Let me see what I can do.” A look of understanding crossed Chloe’s face. “For a two-week stay, paid up front, I can reduce the total to…”
The figure she named was definitely a savings, though not as much of a discount as Til had hoped.
Til nodded. “I’ll take it.”
“What is the name?”
For a second, Til hesitated. “Emily Curtis.”
“I’ll need to see a credit card and a photo ID, please.”
Reaching into her tote, Til pulled out the driver’s license and enough money to cover the entire stay.
“I don’t have a credit card.” Til let the statement hang out there for several seconds. Over the years, she’d learned the importance of simply stating facts. “I promise I won’t trash the room.”
Chloe studied her face for a long time, reminding Til of how she’d studied Serena’s earlier. “We normally require a credit card on file, but I think we can make an exception this time.”
Smiling, Chloe handed Til her change and the license, then pulled out an old-fashioned brass key. Chloe slid it across the counter to Til, along with a paper jacket. “There’s a sheet with the breakfast hours and the Wi-Fi password. I hope you enjoy?—”
“Chloe. Did you hear?” A slender young woman, her jet-black hair in a layered pixie cut, raced into the lobby, then skidded to a stop.
“Jaclyn, could you give me a minute?” Chloe smiled at the young woman, her tone easy. “I’m with a guest.”
“I’m so sorry.” Jaclyn shot Til an apologetic look before returning her gaze to Chloe. “But it’s all over the news. They found your friend Matilda Beemis. The police are investigating.”
Chloe whirled. “What do you mean ‘found’ her?”
“A woman walking her dog found her in Maplewood Park.” Sympathy filled Jaclyn’s eyes. “On a park bench.”
“Was she injured? Is she okay?” Worry filled Chloe’s amber eyes.
Jaclyn cast a glance at Emily, then stepped close to Chloe and lowered her voice. Despite the effort, Jaclyn had a voice that carried.
Even as she pretended to study the sheet detailing the breakfast and happy-hour times, Emily had no trouble hearing every word.
“I’m sorry, Chloe. She’s dead.” Jaclyn put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “She was just sitting there. Her purse was beside her. Everything appeared to be in it. Word is that it doesn’t appear she was assaulted.”
Tears slipped down Chloe’s cheeks, and an answering ache filled Emily’s heart. She strode to the elevator and stepped inside, no longer able to witness the grief she’d caused.
Choices, she’d learned long ago, came with consequences. Her father had always warned her to think carefully about any decisions she made, saying that choices, like a stone thrown into a pond, created ripples that touched everything around.
Emily consoled herself that she had given this particular choice careful consideration.
As soon as Emily reached her room, she dropped the tote on the bed and moved straight to the mirror in the bathroom. A stranger gazed back at her.
No one would recognize her—heck, she didn’t even recognize herself. She hadn’t thought to ask Serena if she would look like her younger self or someone else, or if she had a choice in the matter. The outer shell might have changed, but inside, she was still her.
“Emily,” she murmured, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the image in the glass. “Emily Curtis.”
Odd, the name chosen in such short order appeared to not only fit her, but it felt natural on her tongue.
The change had actually happened. Just as Serena had said it would. But not without casualties.
Tears flooded her eyes as she thought of the grief on Chloe’s face. There was not a doubt in her mind that once news got out, Chloe wouldn’t be the only who would grieve.
She hadn’t wanted to leave her friends behind, but in reality, the end of her life had been just around the corner. By drinking what she thought of as the youth elixir, she’d only hastened the inevitable.
Brushing away the tears, Emily took a deep, steadying breath and glanced around the room that would be her home for the next two weeks.
The bed, covered in a quilt with a bright green and yellow daffodil pattern, brought a smile to her lips. Everything else in the small room was equally lovely. Seeing a claw-foot tub in the bathroom delighted her. She envisioned soaking up to her neck in bubbles while enjoying a glass of wine with music in the background.
She would make that happen. Later, she would cap off the first day of her new life with bubbles and wine.
Afterward, she would do some serious thinking about her future—where she would live, where she would work and what she would do with the rest of this new, glorious life she’d been blessed with.
But now it was time for some serious shopping.