by Adele Whitby
“Sorry!” I said right away. I followed Mom to her room, where she closed the door behind us. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied as she sat on the edge of the bed. She patted the blanket, so I sat next to her. “Tomorrow’s the big day . . . your twelfth birthday!”
“I can’t believe it,” I replied. “It almost doesn’t feel real.”
“Dad looked up show times in the Providence Journal,” Mom told me. “That movie you’ve wanted to see is playing at—”
“Actually, I changed my mind,” I said quickly. Even though I really, really wanted to see Paul O. Brady’s new movie, I was worried that a trip to Providence would give Mom the chance to return her dress. “Why don’t we have a picnic on the beach instead? Betsy brought her bathing suit and she’s really eager to spend a day at the shore.”
Mom looked surprised. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
I nodded emphatically. “Positive.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Mom decided. “You know, when Beth visited me twenty years ago, she wanted to go to the shore as well, but we didn’t have the chance when her trip was cut short. She’ll be just as excited as Betsy.”
I grinned. Knowing that made me even happier that I’d decided to change our plans.
“There’s something I’d like to show you,” Mom said. She reached into her bedside table and withdrew a small velvet pouch. “Hold out your hands, sweetheart.”
I cupped my palms together and held them out toward Mom, wondering what she was going to place in them.
A mischievous smile crossed her face. “Now close your eyes.”
As soon as my eyes were closed, I felt several small objects fall into my hands. When I opened my eyes, I gasped. There were a dozen stars cupped within my palms!
Of course, they weren’t real stars, but star-shaped hair ornaments, each one attached to a narrow hairpin. The most amazing thing was the way they shimmered, catching and reflecting the light whenever they moved.
“Do you like them?” Mom asked almost shyly. “I wore them in my hair when I married Dad. Hardly anyone knew they were there besides Shannon and me; my veil was so full that it completely hid them.”
“They’re beautiful,” I told her. “So shiny and shimmery!”
“They’re made from mother-of-pearl,” Mom explained. “It was important to me to wear something from the sea on my wedding day. I had the Katherine necklace, of course, which connected me to my English heritage, but I also wanted something that would reflect my heritage as a daughter of the Rhode Island cliffs.”
We were quiet for a moment before Mom continued. “I confess, Kay, that I still find it hard to believe that I won’t be giving you the Katherine necklace tomorrow.”
“Mom, it’s fine,” I began. But she wouldn’t let me finish.
“It’s not fine,” Mom told me. “Not at all. You’ve been very brave in how you’ve handled such a bitter disappointment, Kay. Some girls your age would’ve pouted and sulked and made Dad feel even worse about it. But not you. The Chatswood in you has never shined brighter, my sweet girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“These are trying times in which we live. Yet you’ve made sacrifices without complaint, adjusted all your expectations about how your life would be, and somehow, despite all the setbacks, you’ve managed to maintain a sunny disposition. I can’t begin to tell you how much hope and strength Dad and I have drawn from your example.”
I shook my head in confusion. Mom had it backward. Didn’t she know that she was the one who stayed hopeful and optimistic, no matter what we encountered? That she was the one setting the good example for the rest of us?
“Dad and I won’t stop looking for the Katherine necklace, Kay,” Mom continued. “And if we ever have the chance to buy it back and return it to its rightful owner—that’s you, of course—we will. And until that day comes, we’ll just have to start a new family tradition instead, won’t we?”
“Like what?” I asked, still fiddling with the pearlescent stars in my palm.
“Like my wedding stars, perhaps,” Mom said. She brushed my hair away from my face and deftly pinned it in place with the stars until they formed a twinkling constellation in my hair. “I’m not sure how fashionable they are these days, but if you’d like them, dear heart, they’re yours.”
I smiled up at her. “I’d love them,” I replied happily. “They’re so beautiful, Mom. Thank you! And . . . when I have a daughter someday . . . I’ll give them to her, too. A new tradition for future Katherines.”
Mom kissed my cheek. “Nothing in the world would’ve pleased your great-great-grandmother more,” she said.
There was a knock at the door. “Kate?” Aunt Beth called. “There’s a woman here to see you.”
“I’ll be right there,” Mom called back.
I followed Mom to the front door and recognized our visitor right away. It was Mrs. Vivian Lynch, the antiques dealer.
“Vivian, welcome,” Mom said as she held open the door. “I’d like to present my cousin, Lady Beth Etheridge-Northrop of Chatswood Manor, England.”
Mrs. Lynch looked startled for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. “An honor to meet you, Lady Beth.”
“And you as well,” Aunt Beth replied warmly.
“May I offer you something to drink?” Mom asked. “Kay, run and put the kettle on—”
Mrs. Lynch clapped her hands together. “Oh, Kate, you’re an impeccable hostess, but what I have to tell you simply can’t wait!”
Mom raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Goodness! In that case, please have a seat.”
After we sat down in the living room, all eyes turned to Mrs. Lynch.
“I received a phone call late last night from a very important buyer,” she said dramatically. “He was calling to inquire if I had anything new from Vandermeer Manor—”
Then Mrs. Lynch paused to glance at Aunt Beth. “I’m known in the antiques world for my special relationship with the Vandermeers,” she explained. “Buyers come to me for the very best pieces from the Vandermeer collection.”
“And was there anything in particular that this buyer was looking for?” asked Mom.
Mrs. Lynch smiled coyly. “I told him about the find you made yesterday—first editions of several titles by Charles Dickens,” she replied. “And I mentioned that they may have been initialed by the author. Well, Kate, brace yourself, because he made—on the spot!—a very generous offer.”
Aunt Beth and I leaned forward expectantly, but Mom sat as still as a statue. “How generous?” she asked in a low voice.
“He offered to buy them sight unseen!” Mrs. Lynch continued. “Now, I’ll tell you, Kate, that’s rare. That doesn’t happen every day. And I told him, well, I don’t know for certain that they were initialed by Charles Dickens himself. I haven’t had them verified yet. But he didn’t even care! He said his offer stands regardless of the authenticity of the initials!”
“How generous?” Mom repeated.
Mrs. Lynch reached into her pocketbook and withdrew a folded piece of paper. She held it out to Mom without speaking. As Mom reached for the paper, I noticed that her hands were trembling. She unfolded the paper without making a sound, and her dark brown eyes darted back and forth as she read the number written there. When Mom glanced up again, it was impossible to interpret the look on her face.
“Who is this buyer?” she asked abruptly. “Is this offer legitimate?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve worked with him for years,” Mrs. Lynch said. “He’s based on the West Coast, but is in New York right now on business for POB Enterprises, which has a particular interest in English and Irish pieces. If you’d like my advice, I say take it, Kate. Make the sale. Honestly, I think this is an outlandish sum, far more than the books are worth, but as they say, a fool and his money are soon parted. If POB Enterprises is willing to pay this amount for books that haven’t been verified, then by all means, let them!”
Mom blinked a few times, as if she were having trouble believing what she was hearing. “And this offer—is firm?” she asked. “It’s not contingent on financing or verification or—”
“If you’re ready to sell, I can have the money in your account by tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Lynch told her.
“Very well, Vivian,” Mom said. “I’d be happy to sell the books to POB Enterprises.”
“Excellent!” replied Mrs. Lynch. “I saw the telephone stand in the entryway—if you don’t mind, I’d like to place a few calls.”
“Be my guest,” Mom said.
“I’ll let POB Enterprises know that you’ve accepted the offer, and I’ll telephone my assistant to meet me at the manor house with some crates and packing material,” Mrs. Lynch continued. “We’ll have the deal concluded by dinnertime.”
“Wonderful news, Vivian. Thank you,” Mom said, beaming.
As soon as Mrs. Lynch was out of earshot, I pounced. “How much, Mom?” I asked, forgetting that it was rude to discuss money so openly. “How much for the books?”
“Enough to pay the debt that’s due tomorrow, plus enough to buy back some shares of Vandermeer Steel stock!” she whispered ecstatically.
Despite myself, I began jumping up and down with excitement and even let out a happy squeal.
“Oh, Kate, I’m so happy for you!” Aunt Beth exclaimed as she wrapped Mom in a hug. “You were right. Katherine really is looking out for you!”
Suddenly, I glanced around and realized that Betsy wasn’t with us. Maybe she’s reading, I thought. I slipped away to check my bedroom, but Betsy wasn’t there.
“Aunt Beth, do you know where Betsy is?” I asked, when I returned to the living room.
“She went out for a walk,” Aunt Beth replied. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”
But that wasn’t good enough. If I didn’t tell Betsy the big news, I felt like I might burst! And I couldn’t wait to show her the star hair clips Mom had given me. “I’ll go look for her,” I said as I took my straw hat off the rack.
Outside, the day seemed even more beautiful now that it had been brightened by Mrs. Lynch’s announcement. Imagine the look on Dad’s face when we tell him! I thought, practically skipping down the path. He won’t believe it! After worrying so much about how we’d ever pay off that debt before it came due . . . and just think of it, the answer to the problem was hiding in Vandermeer Manor all along.
I paused as I glanced around me. The grounds were especially quiet, since it was the gardener’s day off. Betsy could’ve been anywhere. I decided to stop by Hank and Shannon’s cottage in case Clara or David had seen her.
There were two turns in the path that led to Shannon’s house, and it wound so close to the cliffs that I could hear the waves crashing below. After I find Betsy, we’ve got to get back to our sorting in Vandermeer Manor, I thought, determined. Who knows what other treasures we might find? Maybe something even more valuable—something that could pay for more shares of Vandermeer Steel! And then we could move back into Vandermeer Manor and Dad could hire Clara and Mrs. Lynch might be able to track down the Katherine necklace and we could buy it back and—
As I approached Shannon’s house, I heard something else: the sound of laughter, carried on the ocean breeze. I had found my cousin. She was right inside the door, laughing with Clara like they’d been best friends for years.
I quickly ducked behind a lilac bush so they wouldn’t see me. Through the blossoms, I watched them; Clara, her face full of smiles as she told Betsy something, and then Betsy, practically doubled over from laughter. I swallowed hard. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but something else that made my throat feel so small and tight.
If Betsy wanted to visit Clara, why didn’t she wait for me? I wondered. I would’ve come with her. We all could’ve had fun together.
But that’s not how it happened. Instead, it was the two of them on the inside, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world.
And me, on the outside, looking in.
Alone.
The very next day, my twelfth birthday arrived at last! Today, I am twelve, I thought as I scrambled out of bed. Since Betsy was already gone—she seemed to get up earlier every day—I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked the same, but I sure felt different. Not exactly older or wiser . . . but ready, I guess, to face whatever the future might hold—starting with the family secret that Mom and Aunt Beth would finally reveal today.
There was a quiet knock, and the door opened just enough for Betsy to peek in. Her whole face brightened when she saw me. “Happy birthday, Kay!” Betsy cried as she rushed into the room, wrapping me in a lilac-scented hug.
“Thank you!” I said, laughing as Betsy filled my arms with flowers. “What’s all this?”
“The lilacs growing near Shannon’s house are the best I’ve ever seen,” she explained. “She let me pick some for your special day.”
Did Clara help? I wondered. But I quickly pushed the thought from my mind. I was twelve years old now, and it was time to put petty jealousies behind me.
After I got dressed, Betsy and I went to the dining room for breakfast. Our parents were already there.
“The birthday girl!” Aunt Beth exclaimed.
Mom and Dad hugged me at the same time.
“Happy birthday, Kay,” Mom said as she kissed my forehead. “I love you so much.”
“And so do I,” Dad added. “Happy birthday! I’m sorry I can’t come with you to the beach today. I’m headed to Providence to pay off that debt. Then I’ll use the rest of the money to buy as many shares of Vandermeer Steel as I can.”
“That’s okay, Dad,” I said. “We’ll have even more to celebrate at dinner tonight!”
After breakfast, Betsy, Aunt Beth, Mom, and I got ready to spend the whole day at the shore. I’d been spending days at the beach my whole life, but I never had as much fun as I did with Betsy. I showed her how to build a sand castle that we decorated with bits of driftwood and sea grass, saving the prettiest seashells for the tops of the turrets. Then we waded into the chilly waters, leaping over waves and dancing away whenever someone spotted a crab—or thought she did! Nothing could make today better than it is right now, I thought happily.
But I had no idea what would happen that night.
We left the beach in the early afternoon so that there would be plenty of time to dress for dinner. Since Shannon and Clara were cooking up a storm, Nellie had to attend to Mom and me as well as Aunt Beth and Betsy. Even so, she found the time to fix my hair in an elegant style, with Mom’s wedding stars twinkling like a tiara.
For my birthday dinner, we were joined by Nellie, Hank, Shannon, Clara, and David, which made for quite the party! I wished that it could have lasted forever, but all too soon, Nellie and Shannon started clearing the table.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Clara said as she rose.
Then, to my surprise, Betsy stood, too.
Aunt Beth was in on the secret—whatever it was. Without saying a word, she started extinguishing the lights. I saw Mom and Dad exchange a smile. Whatever was going on, I seemed to be the only one in the dark.
Then I heard Betsy’s clear, sweet voice begin to sing from the kitchen. One by one, everyone else at the table joined in, until they were all singing the “Happy Birthday” song to me! A moment later, Betsy appeared, carrying a layer cake with twelve candles flickering on top. Her smile glowed brighter than the candles as she placed the cake right in front of me.
“Make a wish, Kay!” she said.
I stared at the candles for a long moment, lost in thought. What on earth could I wish for? Surrounded by all the people I loved most in the world, I already had everything I could ever possibly need.
I wish that the strength, love, and determination of Great-Great-Grandmother Katherine will always be with me.
Then I closed my eyes and blew out the candles—all of them.
As everyone cheered, Shannon handed me a cake knife an
d said, “Would you like to do the honors, Miss Kay?”
“Certainly,” I replied. The cake was covered in a thick layer of buttercream frosting, with a glossy layer of raspberry jam in the middle. There were even candied violets scattered across the top.
“This is delicious!” I exclaimed after my first bite.
“That’s your cousin’s doing,” Clara said with a smile as she gestured at Betsy. “It was all her idea.”
Betsy grinned back at her. “You know I would’ve been lost without you!” she said. Then she turned to me. “I asked Clara to help me make a birthday cake for you,” she said. “You’re so amazing, Kay; you can do anything! I’m quite hopeless in comparison. So I thought I’d learn how to make a cake for your birthday.”
So that’s what Betsy and Clara have been up to, I thought as relief flooded through me. They weren’t trying to avoid me. It was all part of the surprise!
“Betsy’s quite the determined baker. She wanted to do every step herself,” Clara explained. “We picked raspberries and made them into jam. We even candied the violets!”
“We have a cake at home called a Victoria sponge,” Betsy explained. “It’s a lot like this, with a nice layer of raspberry jam in the middle. I hope you like it, Kay.”
“I love it,” I said as I took another bite. “The jam is the best part!”
Betsy and Clara exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing. “Kay, you wouldn’t believe what a mess I nearly made of it,” Betsy said through her giggles. “I thought I was measuring the sugar, but it was really the salt. Luckily, Clara noticed in the nick of time and saved me from spoiling it all!”
“That certainly would’ve been a memorable birthday cake,” Dad teased her, and everyone laughed.
When we’d finished our cake, Betsy and Aunt Beth exchanged a glance.
“Now, Mum?” Betsy asked in a low voice.
“Yes, darling,” Aunt Beth replied. “It’s time.”
“Beth,” Mom said, shaking her head. “A birthday present, too? You’ve already been so generous to Kay—to all of us.”
I squirmed a little in my seat. Besides a card, we hadn’t been able to send anything to Betsy for her birthday. It felt awful that she and Aunt Beth had gone to the trouble to buy a present for me.
