Chapter Nine
The dark-haired woman in the photograph wore a flowy summer dress that floated around her legs like water.
The face was heart-shaped, the eyes doe-like in their shape and softness.
She was seated on a large rock, beaming at whoever was taking the photo, love and humor both playing in her expression.
“You think that’s her?” Beth moved closer to the screen. “If that’s her, she was . . .”
“Gorgeous. Mom was pretty, but Maxine was a knockout.”
“Are you sure that’s Maxine?” Beth asked.
“I don’t know who else it could be. I mean, she sort of looks a little like Mom. See? They have the same nose.”
Beth squinted, then nodded. “The exact same nose.”
“I’ll ask Banks just to make sure, but I’d bet the house that’s her.”
“Show me again,” Beth asked.
Kit held the photo up to the phone and held it there.
“She looks a little like Abby, too, don’t you think? Dark hair, dark eyes, that smile.”
“She does.” Kit started to place the photo back on the dresser, then changed her mind.
She’d take it with her and stop into Banks’s office.
“Let’s see what else we have here.” She lifted the lid of a wooden jewelry box positioned on the dresser top and peered inside.
“Not much here. I guess Maxine wasn’t big on jewelry.
This is probably her high school ring.” She held up a ring with a blue stone in the center and “19” on one side and “61” on the other.
“There are a few pairs of earrings, but that’s all. ”
“Not much for a woman in her eighties. You think someone might have helped themselves to a piece here and a piece there?”
“I met a woman today who says she was Maxine’s best friend.
She mentioned having taken some valuables to her house for safekeeping.
I told her to hang on to whatever it is she has.
I don’t really know how secure the house is.
Last night I stayed at an inn in town, and I’ll probably stay there tonight as well.
The camp is pretty isolated.” Kit picked up the ring and studied it.
“I wonder if this was hers, or someone else’s.
It says ‘1961’ on the sides, but if she was three years younger than Mom, she should have graduated in 1963, since we know Mom was the class of 1960. ”
“We do?”
“Don’t you remember playing with her class ring when we used to get into her jewelry box?”
“Not really, but you’re right. Quick math tells me if Maxine was born in 1945, she’d have been eighteen in 1963. Only sixteen in 1961.”
Kit pocketed the ring. “I’ll ask Banks if he knows anything about that.
” She closed the lid, then turned her attention to the dresser drawers.
“Clothing. Sweaters. A few pairs of jeans, two pairs of corduroys. Underwear. Socks. Lots of socks.” Kit looked into the camera and smiled at her sister. “The woman loved her socks.”
She gave a cursory glance at the contents of the rest of the drawers. “Nothing of note. Let’s check out that nightstand.”
One picture frame stood next to a short, neatly placed stack of books. Kit picked it up and smiled broadly.
“Oh, hello. Bethy, check this out.” She held up the photo of a man who appeared to be in his thirties standing on the steps of a rustic cabin.
He was dressed in a button-down shirt and pants that looked nothing like what one would wear hiking.
His blond hair dipped over his forehead and his eyes crinkled with the same mirth that turned up the corners of his lips.
Beth whistled. “Oh my. He is handsome. And the way he’s looking into the camera—” She fanned herself. “Are you sure Maxine wasn’t married?”
“I’m not sure about anything where she’s concerned. But I’m betting that’s one of our cabins, so maybe he was one of the campers.”
“He isn’t dressed like any camper I’ve ever seen. Those don’t look like hiking boots.”
Kit noted the leather boaters the mystery man wore. “Good point.”
“But lucky Maxine if that was her guy. What a beautiful couple they’d have made. And can’t you just feel the steam rising off the photos? Yowee.”
Kit laughed. “Yeah, they’re definitely two beautiful people.”
She hesitated, then placed the picture on the bed. She grabbed the one of the woman they suspected to be Maxine and set it next to that of the mystery man. She was pretty sure Banks would know who they were.
“Go on, see what else is in there.” On her end, Beth leaned closer to her phone, fully engaged in the search for clues about their aunt and her life.
Kit sat on the edge of the bed and poked through the contents of the drawer. “Let’s see. An old TV schedule. ChapStick. A couple of Band-Aids. An old library card. Oh, and look here.” She held up a pair of blue-and-white-striped socks.
Beth laughed. “Because if your feet get cold in the middle of the night, you don’t want to have to get out of bed and walk six feet to the dresser to get socks.”
“Our girl liked to cover all contingencies.” Kit turned her attention back to the drawer. “Here’s some kind of card.” She opened it and read aloud. “Oh. It’s from Mom. ‘Thank you for being my maid of honor. You are the best sister ever. Love you always, Barbie.’”
Beth frowned. “I don’t remember seeing Maxine in any of the wedding pictures.”
“Neither do I. Do you think Mom cut her sister out of the photos? Or just kept pictures Maxine hadn’t been in?” Kit shook her head. “How do you go from ‘best sister ever’ to . . . nothing? To . . . you no longer exist in my world?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember Mom ever being mean or vindictive to anyone.” Beth appeared as puzzled as Kit felt.
“Neither do I. Whatever it was, must have been monumental. Like, life-changing.”
“Well, you’re not allowed to come home until you figure it out, because it’s going to drive me crazy.”
“Me too.” Kit placed the card atop the stack of books and pulled the drawer out the rest of the way. “What else do we have here? Some paper clips, several pens—” She looked into the camera and grinned. “Want to bet more than half of them are out of ink?”
“Not taking that bet. Anything else in there?”
“No, just a—wait.” Kit took out a book of matches and set it down with the card, then removed the drawer from its track. “There’s something—looks like a piece of paper. Hold on.”
With the tip of her index finger, Kit worked at the slip of white paper that was caught between the back and the bottom of the drawer.
“Here we go,” she said after she’d worked it free.
“What is it?”
“It’s just a small piece of something—a letter, maybe?
And I ripped it trying to get it out.” Kit held it closer.
“It says, ‘so you don’t get to change th—’ The rest of the note was ripped off.
But it’s definitely in Mom’s handwriting.
” She held it close to the screen for Beth to see.
“You don’t get to change th—the? The . . . what?”
Beth shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, but I bet that’s about—well, whatever the feud was about.”
“You could be right. So maybe this is our first clue. What did Mom think Maxine was trying to change that Mom didn’t think she was entitled to?”
Beth leaned her forearms on the desk in front of her.
“What are things we try to change? The date or time or place of something? Change her mind? Something about the camp? Or maybe their parents’ will?
” Beth ran through some possibilities. “Mom and Dad lived at the camp until her parents died, right?”
“Their parents had passed away, but I don’t know how soon after Mom and Dad left Maine. So whatever happened could have happened after our grandparents’ accident. I don’t remember the exact year, but I can find out.”
“Let me know when you do.” Beth yawned and tried to cover her fatigue by turning her head but Kit caught it.
“I’ll save the other bedrooms for tomorrow. I’m going to go back into town now,” Kit said. “It looks like snow, and I don’t want to be stuck out here. I think when the locals say ‘a little snow,’ it means something different than it does where we come from.”
“Good idea. Thanks for the tour. I loved it and can’t wait until tomorrow.” She yawned again. “There’s no telling what you might find.”
“I wish you were here, Bethy.” Somehow, it didn’t seem fair that Beth couldn’t be there to share firsthand whatever was there to be discovered.
“Me too. But this is the next best thing. At least I get to see what you’re finding when you’re finding it, so I’m really not missing much other than your company.” She covered another yawn.
Kit picked up the photos from the bed. “I think you should go home and get some rest.”
“I just need to make myself a cup of coffee and I’ll be fine.”
Kit sighed. She knew her sister would stubbornly stay until she was ready to pass out. “Before you hang up, could you give Ned the phone for a minute?”
“Sure. Hang on.”
Kit heard the office door open and close, then Beth’s footsteps as she walked into the café. “Ned? Your mom wants a word . . . Thanks again, sissy. Love you.”
“Love you back, kiddo.”
“Mom, what’s up? We’re getting kind of busy.” Ned appeared on-screen.
“Keep an eye on your aunt Beth. She needs to go home and rest. What time will Abby be in?” Kit asked.
“She said sometime this afternoon. Look, I can get us through the morning rush—there are two other baristas here, so we’re covered.
I’ll make Aunt Beth leave when I do, and I’ll give Abby a call, see if she can come in a little earlier than planned.
I’m trying to keep an eye on the till, so I’ll have to make sure Abby knows to do that. ”
“Okay. Keep in touch.” Kit started to discontinue the call, but she paused. “Ned?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“You’re my favorite son.”
Ned smiled indulgently and reminded her, “I’m your only son.”
“Right.” She grinned. “But still. Favorite.”