by Kay Correll
“Lillian. Perfect timing. Come see what I found.” He was anxious to show off his discovery. Old houses often held many secrets.
She stepped inside. “What is it?”
He led her over to the open board. “Look, a secret compartment.”
“Ooooh. That’s interesting.”
He reached his hand in, feeling around, and found something. He clasped his hand around it, pulled it out, and stared down at a worn leather journal with yellowing pages.
“I wonder if George and Ida left this here by mistake?”
“George and Ida?”
“They owned the house before I bought it. They’d lived here over forty years.”
“Should I open it?”
“I guess so. Maybe we’d at least be able to tell whose it is.”
He carefully opened the cover and saw the date. “I’m pretty sure this is from before George and Ida.” He showed her the date of the first entry. January 1, 1898.
“Goodness, that’s old. Is there a name in it?”
He leafed through the pages. “None that I can see.”
“It feels kind of wrong to read it, but maybe if we do, we can figure out whose it is and give it back to their family.”
He handed it to her. “Here, you can read it. You’ll know more about the island than I do and maybe you can figure out who wrote it?”
“I’m not sure. It was a long time ago. But maybe there’ll be some kind of hint in it.” She took the journal from him and held it close. “But I’ll give George and Ida a call, just to make sure. Maybe they know something about it.”
“Good idea.”
He reached his hand in the compartment again, feeling along all the edges and corners. His hand closed over something and he pulled it out and opened his fist. A single piece of turquoise-colored sea glass rested in his palm.
“Oh, that’s pretty.”
He reached out and gave it to her, their fingers brushing as he dropped it onto her palm. “That’s all I can find in there.”
“A mystery. I wonder why someone put the sea glass in there? There’s not a lot of sea glass to be found on the beaches around here. Nothing like on the east coast, especially further up north.” She turned the glass over and over in her hand, examining it closely.
Or all the sea glass on Alki Beach near where he lived in Seattle, but he wasn’t going to offer that information. The less people knew about him, the better. Maybe they could get to know him before they judged him by his one terrible and tragic mistake.
Lillian hurried into the community center for the Yarn Society meeting that afternoon. She was just brimming with news and couldn’t wait to tell everyone. Dorothy and Ruby waved to her as she entered, and she went to grab a chair beside them.
“Where’s Mary?” she asked as she sat down and tugged out her knitting project.
“Adam was taking her to the doctor. Just a regular checkup,” Dorothy said. “Though she is getting more forgetful and I know he’s worried about her. He said that maybe the doctor could adjust her meds.”
“It must be so hard on Adam seeing his mother suffer through Alzheimer’s.” Ruby shook her head. “Horrible disease. I hope they can find a cure, and sooner rather than later.”
Dorothy nodded. “At least Mary can still do things at Belle Island Inn like seat people in the dining room and help in the kitchen. She enjoys that. I imagine it helps her feel needed. Anyway, I’m there to help her too, in any way I can.”
“You’re a good friend, Dorothy.” Lillian picked up her knitting, concentrating on figuring out where she’d stopped on her project the other night.
“Ah, she’d do the same for me,” Dorothy brushed off the compliment. “So, anyone have any good news?” She looked directly at Lillian over the top of her reading glasses.
Lil laughed. “So, I see that the news of Sara’s engagement has already spread.”
“It has. I’ve heard it from at least three people today.” Ruby laughed. “You must be so happy. Noah is a fine young man.”
“I am pleased. And I had a surprise for her this morning. I saved my sister’s wedding dress all these years. I gave it to Sara, and she’s going to use it to have a dress made for her own wedding.”
“Oh, that’s such a fabulous idea,” Ruby’s eyes lit up.
Lil turned to Dorothy. “So I want to get the name of that lady you said remade vintage clothes and did special sewing projects.”
“Sure, her name is Kristen Fellows. She has business cards up at Bella’s shop on Oak Street.
“She does really nice work. I’ve seen it. Her stitching is excellent and she’s very clever with her ideas.” Ruby nodded.
“How do you know so much about her work?” Lillian asked.
“I saw some of her pieces at Bella’s shop. I used to design and make my clothes in my younger days. Kind of a hobby. So I always love to see work like that.” Ruby smiled. “Somewhere along the way of raising boys, my ambition to become a famous designer got pushed aside.”
“Didn’t know that about you,” Lillian said. “I’ll drop by Bella’s after this and grab a card so we can contact her.” She set down her knitting and rooted around in her bag. “I have other news.” She pulled out the leather journal.
“What’s that?” Ruby asked.
“We found it in a hidden compartment in the wall of Magnolia House. Gary, the man I hired to help with the rehab, found it.”
“What happened to Vince? I thought he was doing the work for you?” Dorothy paused her knitting needles.
“Vince was… problematic. I let him go. Then this Gary was practically dropped in my lap. Jay says Gary’s doing a good job, though he’s only been at it a few days.”
“That was lucky. Sometimes it’s very difficult to find good help here on the island,” Ruby said. “I’m lucky that David is so handy. He’s fixed so many things at the house for me.”
“Always pays to marry a handy guy.” Dorothy grinned and turned back to Lillian. “So, what’s in the journal?”
“I haven’t really read much yet. It’s from 1898, can you believe that? But I haven’t seen any names yet. I’ll look more closely at it tonight. Maybe I’ll find some clues to who wrote it.”
“Can I see it?” Dorothy reached for the journal and leafed through it. “Hey, here’s a few sentences about meeting friends at the beach for the Sandcastle Festival. I guess the island has always been into their festivals.” Dorothy grinned.
“I guess we have.” Lillian smiled. “And we have the Palm Festival coming up.”
“Between working on the festival and planning his wedding, Noah’s going to be a busy man,” Dorothy said.
“That he is,” Lillian agreed as she settled her knitting needles into a steady rhythm.
Chapter 9
Gary browsed through the aisles of the hardware store looking for the few items on his list. Seemed like there was always just one more thing he needed. He paused and squinted to read the small printing on a package of decking screws. Why did companies insist on such small printing? He should have grabbed his reading glasses and stuffed them in his pocket, but usually, he tried to ignore that fact he needed them.
“Garrett? Garrett Jones? Is that you?”
He whirled around at the unexpected sound of his given name, his heart pounding. “Uh…” He looked at the man standing before him.
“Reed Newman, remember me? We worked on the fundraiser for the Seattle Arts Center.”
Yes, he remembered him. Reed Newman, fellow Seattleite. What were the chances? “Reed, good to see you.” But it really wasn’t. Not at all. Though he did have manners and extended his hand to the man.
“What are you doing here?” Reed shook his hand.
“Just a bit of… vacation. What are you doing here?”
“I live here now. Well, most of the time. Still commute back and forth to Seattle.” Reed looked at him closely. “So, how are you doing?”
Gary recognized that look. One of sympathy and a bi
t of judgment, though he might be imagining that part. He knew he was overly sensitive after everything that had happened.
He never was sure how to answer that question so he went with, “As well as can be expected.”
Reed nodded. “You going to be here long?”
“For a bit. I’m helping out Lillian Charm at Charming Inn. Rehabbing a house she bought next door to her inn that she’s going to use as a guest house.”
Did Reed look surprised at that? That he’d be building something? Or was he once again being overly sensitive?
“That sounds like that will keep you busy.”
“Yes, it should.” He paused and looked at Reed. “And… people here know me simply as Gary Jones. I’d kind of like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind a bit. Gary Jones it is.” Reed shook his hand again. “Maybe I’ll see you around the island.”
Gary nodded. Reed turned and left the store. As Gary watched him leave, a sinking feeling pressed on in his chest. It was hard to keep his identity a secret. Sooner or later he was afraid it would get out.
And then he’d see those judgmental looks again. The ones he’d been trying to hide from… though, he really did deserve them all. He even kind of looked at himself that way.
After finishing up a late dinner, Sara, Noah, and Zoe sat at Magic Cafe. Zoe had been nonstop with questions about the wedding, but Sara didn’t mind.
“So, you’re going to have your mother’s dress made into a dress for your wedding? That is so cool,” Zoe said as she reached for her wineglass. “I wish… well, that’s not possible. We don’t have my mom’s wedding dress. Not that I’m even dating anyone seriously.”
“I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t even think to save it.” Noah looked forlorn.
“Uncle Noah, don’t apologize. I still don’t know how you jumped in and took care of me and raised me.” She grinned at him. “You did a great job if I do say so myself.”
“I admit I didn’t know what to pitch and what to save back then. I saved photo albums and a few things from your parents.”
Once again Sara thought about how parallel Zoe’s and her own life had been. She’d been raised by her aunt when her parents died, and Zoe by Noah when his sister had died.
“Zoe, I wanted to ask you something.” She looked at Zoe. “Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids?”
“She can’t,” Noah interrupted.
“Why not?” Zoe looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“Because I want you to be my best man. Or best woman. Or best person.” Noah’s face had a pleading look.
Zoe laughed. “I can’t say no to you, Uncle Noah. Of course, I’ll be your best whatever.” She turned to Sara. “Sorry.”
“No, that’s great. I just wanted to be sure you were included in the wedding party.” That really was perfect for Zoe to be Noah’s best person. She couldn’t be happier for both of them. So far the wedding plans were coming along nicely.
She only hoped the rest of the planning went just as smoothly.
Zoe stood. “If you two don’t mind, I’m off to meet Lisa at The Lucky Duck. Haven’t seen her in a while. I’ll probably be late. Don’t wait up for me.” Zoe turned to Sara. “Sometimes he forgets I’m a grown woman and does silly things like wait up to make sure I get home okay when I’m here visiting.”
“I don’t think that’s silly,” Noah said defensively.
Zoe rolled her eyes, turned away, and said back over her shoulder, “I’ll see you later. Hopefully it will be morning, not late tonight.”
Sara smiled at the exchange between Zoe and Noah and her heart swelled a bit with more love for this man and his concern for his niece. They sat and finished their wine. He drove her home and walked her up the steps to The Nest. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
She rested her head against his chest, soaking in his warmth. “I can’t wait to marry you, either. You make me so happy.”
He pulled her closer. “And that’s my job. To make sure I make you happy. Always and forever.”
Lillian settled in bed that night with the leather journal. She’d left a message with George and Ida but hadn’t heard back from them. Though, the journal had been written decades and decades before George and Ida had bought the house. She doubted if they even knew of its existence because why would they have put it back in the wall? Good thing Gary had such an eagle eye and spied the out-of-place board.
She ran her hand over the smooth leather cover and carefully opened it to the first page. The first few pages gave her no hints about the writer, though the handwriting looked like it was from a female with all the extra pretty swirls. But she wasn’t positive. She randomly turned to a later section in the journal and read the entry.
* * *
July 10, 1898
Clara, Jane, and I went to the Sandcastle Festival. Johnny was there, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. Papa was keeping a close eye on me. But Clara, Jane and I did win the sandcastle contest. That was fun. The prize was ten whole dollars to the General Merchandise Store. We’re going to all three go shopping together this week. I can’t wait. I want to get a new dress for the dance next weekend.
* * *
That didn’t help with the writer’s name, but it did give her three other names. Two friends and Johnny. Who was this mysterious Johnny? Someone the writer didn’t think Papa would approve of? More questions.
She closed the journal and set it on the night table. Maybe some other entries would give her more clues or maybe George and Ida might have some information. She picked up the piece of turquoise sea glass and turned it over and over in her palm as if that would give her some answers.
Nothing.
She set it on top of the journal. Maybe she’d find answers later, but now, she needed to rest. Tomorrow was a busy day, but then when was a day not busy? But that was okay with her.
Chapter 10
Lillian seated a group of four customers at a table by the window the next evening, then looked up and saw Sara and Noah coming into the dining room, arm in arm. She smiled just seeing their happy faces. She wanted nothing more than she wanted her niece’s happiness. She waved to them and they met her halfway. “So, did you come for dinner?”
“We did. Can you join us?” Sara asked. “Please?”
Lillian looked around at the room. “Let me just talk to the hostess. Let her know she can come get me if she needs me.” She returned and the three of them sat a table in the corner.
Sara shifted in her chair and played with the spoon beside her plate. Something was up with her niece, she was sure of it. She waited patiently for Sara to tell her.
Sara finally stopped fidgeting and looked directly at her. “So, Noah and I have set a date, we think.”
“You have? That’s great news.” Lillian ran through when she thought they’d picked. Maybe a Christmas wedding? Sara loved Christmas. That was only like eight months away, though. They could plan a wedding in eight months, couldn’t they?
Sara continued, “I checked on the inn’s calendar and the date is available for a wedding on the day we want. I tentatively added it to the schedule. We want to get married in—if you think it’s possible—in four weeks.” Sara looked at Lil, her expression worried and excited at the same time.
Lil sat for a moment, glad she’d held back her gasp of surprise. Four short weeks. That wasn’t much time. But if that’s what Sara wanted, then that’s what they’d do.
“I think that’s wonderful. I’m sure we can make it happen.” She wasn’t sure though. Her mind bounced from thought to thought on all that would have to be done.
Sara grinned, and Noah leaned over and kissed her cheek. “See, I told you we could make this work and Lil would be fine with it.” He squeezed her hand and turned to Lillian. “My fault. Now that I’ve asked her to marry me, I just don’t want to wait.”
“I’m going to tell Charlotte and Robin later tonight. We’l
l start making lists. Robin is great with lists.” Sara laughed.
“I got the name of the seamstress from Dorothy. I guess we’ll have to see if she can fit us in her schedule to have the dress in four weeks, though.”
Sara frowned. “I really want the dress for the wedding. I have my heart set on it.”
“We’ll try to make it happen then.” Lillian nodded. If it was important to Sara, it was important to her. One way or another, they’d make it work.
Sara grabbed a notebook from her purse. “Okay, I actually have started a list. See?” She held up a page with writing on every line. “I’m going to put a star by contact the seamstress, though. I’ll do that first thing tomorrow.”
“Good idea.” Lillian nodded.
They came up with more items for her list until their dinners came and Sara put down the notebook.
Sara turned to Lillian. “Tell Noah about the journal you were telling me about this morning at breakfast.”
Noah looked at her expectantly.
“Gary found this old journal. Gary—he’s doing the rehab work now, I guess Sara told you?”
Noah nodded.
“Anyway, he found this old journal hidden in the wall. It’s dated 1898. I started reading some of it last night, trying to find out who it belonged to. So far I don’t know who’s writing, but I did find a few names mentioned. I don’t know if that will help me much. The journal said the writer and her two friends, Clara and Jane, won the sandcastle building contest at the Sandcastle Festival back then.”
“Ah, so our many festivals come from a long tradition on the island?” Noah grinned.
“It appears they do.”
Noah’s forehead wrinkled. “You know, I did some research for an article I wrote for the town paper. I was researching the start of the community center. It’s been in existence for years in one form or another. But I did find out the historical society has scans of a lot of the old newspapers. I think it was called The Lighthouse Times back then, just like now. If I remember right, they had a society section in the paper. Things like relatives of the townspeople coming to visit. Or famous people coming to the island. Even things like the Ladies’ Bridge Club being held at this person or that person’s house. Or someone’s kid going off to college. Just local news. You might try looking there.”
