Epilogue #2
She hit the enter button with gusto. As the info came up, she said, “Of course.”
“What’s it mean?”
She leaned back and smiled. “It’s a routing number for a bank in Asheville. Thanks to Magnolia’s note, we know the box number.”
He finished his smoothie then picked up his coffee. “Does this mean we don’t get to terrorize every bank in Buncombe County with our questions?”
“Yes.”
“How close is it?”
She pulled up her maps app and entered the destination. “Seventy-one minutes without traffic.”
He rose, took his dishes to the sink and rinsed them off. “Let’s delay the packing a few hours. We can grab lunch on the way back.”
She took a moment to think. Briar House was days from being ready for occupancy. Her family was coming to help her with the move.
She looked at her watch, thought of the travel time. Four hours to solve a mystery, if all went well.
She decided, closed her laptop. “Okay. We’ll go.”
An hour and a half later, she and Finn stood inside a room surrounded by safe deposit boxes. The bank had taken her key, retrieved the Everson family’s box for her and set it on a counter.
With caught breath, she opened it.
A small envelope sat on top, her name in Magnolia’s script across its front.
Remembering the last letter she’d received from her birth mother, she opened it with shaking hands.
My dear Rebel,
I knew you would find your way here. Forgive my antics. Consider it a bit of sweet revenge for all the phone calls I received regarding my “hoyden” granddaughter.
You know the truth about your birth now. I hope in time, you’ll forgive me for misleading you all these years.
I made my choices from a place of love, for your protection, for my own, and for the Everson legacy.
Inside this box, you’ll find that which pertains to you and only you, along with any remaining answers you might seek.
With all my love,
Magnolia
Only when Finn brushed a thumb across her cheek did she realize tears had fallen. She tilted her head back, collected herself, swiped her own cheeks and looked into the box.
Two numbered jewelry boxes sat inside. Twine criss-crossed around each.
She picked up the first one. A small note was attached to the twine.
My grandmother gave these to me when I graduated from college. They belonged to her mother.
Inside sat a bracelet, one Rose recognized.
An elegant piece that she remembered admiring as a child, on Magnolia’s wrist. She’d asked to borrow it for first grade show and tell.
Magnolia had refused, declaring it improper to bring to a first grade classroom.
Alternating square cut emeralds and diamonds sat within sterling silver.
It wasn’t the only thing in the box. Emerald drop earrings lay inside, a perfect match to the bracelet.
Finn kissed her shoulder. “You should wear them for our wedding.”
Rose could only nod as she wiped her eyes again and picked up the other box.
It was slightly larger than the first and taller. She bit her lower lip as she took in its contents. A small cloth bag lay on top. She pulled it open, tipped it. An oval locket fell into her hand.
The locket wore a tarnish. She was no expert on jewelry, but guessed it was either silver or silver-plated. It took her a moment to open it, but once she did, she smiled. A miniature image of Magnolia sat on one side. The other held the image of a young man.
It was a younger version of Hal Lawson, Rose’s birth father. There was a resemblance, but the photo was small.
Rose hadn’t seen the locket before. Had Hal given it to her?
Finn stood alongside her. She passed the locket to him.
He studied it before he spoke. “They look so young. I’ve never seen him without gray hair.”
Rose returned her attention to the box. A flat index card atop a few photos remained inside.
Me with your father. Knowing you, you’ve already figured out his identity.
A photo strip lay on top, maybe from a local fair. Two teenagers with smiling faces, goofy expressions, and one kiss.
Rose could only imagine how they’d had to sneak time like this together, a secret from her father and friends.
Next was their prom photo. Magnolia wore a sleeveless, floor-length, light green dress with long white gloves. She wore her hair pinned up. Hal stood beside her in a tux consisting of a white jacket, white shirt, and black pants.
One thing remained.
Another photo, a Polaroid. When she pulled it out, she gasped and reached out. Her voice felt breathless as she tapped his arm. “Finn.”
He too took an audible sharp breath. “My mom.”
The white border of the picture framed the image of two women. Both wore hospital gowns, seated and smiling with swaddled infants in their arms.
Magnolia Everson-Brooks and Clara Murphy.
She turned it over. In black ink, Magnolia’s flowing script read:
Clara- The woman who helped deliver you. Hours after, she gave birth to her own child. Her compassion, her coaching, and her companionship during those precious days were the sort I’ve cherished and never forgotten.
Rose leaned against Finn in wonder as they both stared at the two women and their babies.
“There’s no way they could have known they would see other again. That we would become friends.”
“And husband and wife.” Finn wrapped an arm around her. His lips pressed over hers.
She returned his kiss and gazed into his eyes, the photograph held tight between her fingers. “Twenty-eight days.”
“Twenty-eight days,” he said.
“I love you.”