Finding Libbie

by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  “Did you think to ask your dad? Maybe he kept track of her all these years.”

  Emily thought this over a moment. “I doubt he did. He and Mom were really happy together. I think he moved on with his life and left memories of Libbie behind.”

  “Well, you gave it your best try,” Jordan said.

  Emily glanced up at him. “What do you mean? I’m not through looking yet.”

  “Really? What’s the point? No one knows where she is, and besides, even if she were alive, she probably wouldn’t appreciate being found. After all, you’re her ex-husband’s daughter—the daughter she couldn’t have. She might be really bitter about it all.”

  Emily hadn’t thought about that. “Well, you’re a downer, aren’t you?”

  Jordan chuckled. “Besides, you should be concentrating on getting a job in Minneapolis for this fall, and we should start looking for an apartment instead of wasting time on this wild-goose chase. Libbie is the past—our lives are happening now. That’s more important.”

  Emily didn’t reply. It was obvious Jordan didn’t understand how important finding Libbie was to her. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized Jordan hardly ever acknowledged what was important to her. He’d often blow off attending family get-togethers with her so he could do something he enjoyed instead. And he rarely asked her what she’d like to do on weekends. He just assumed it was fine that he play golf or fish or meet up with his friends to watch baseball or football. Yet if there was a faculty dinner or a get-together at a department professor’s home, she was always expected to attend.

  Emily finished her apple in silence. She didn’t care what Jordan thought; she was going to keep looking for Libbie.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Another workweek began for Emily. Monday was a rough day because the register system went on the blink for a couple of hours and sales had to be handwritten. This was happening more and more, and Emily wished the store would upgrade its system.

  Wednesday, she spent the day at her grandmother’s going through boxes and trunks in the attic. There were so many wonderful items up there—an old dressmaker’s dummy, more hatboxes, a trunk of clothes from the early 1900s—but most of the clothing had become moth-eaten or rotted from being up there so long. They saved what they could and then disposed of the rest, which Emily thought was a shame.

  In the evenings after work, Emily sat at her computer, searching for Libbie. She tried the alumni list at the high school, but there was no new address for Libbie since her parents’ lake house. Then she tried finding Gwen’s two daughters, Lynn and Leslie, but that was next to impossible. They weren’t listed on the high school or college alumni lists, and Emily had no idea if they were married or where they lived now. They’d be in their late forties, so they could be just about anywhere.

  On Friday after work, feeling discouraged, Emily drove out to the neighborhood where her dad and Libbie had lived for four years. Back then it had been a brand-new development, but now it was old and tired looking with many outdated houses. Some had been remodeled, but most still held traces of the 1970s: old painted brick, wide siding, and doors with gold glass windows on them. Emily pulled up in front of the home her dad had lived in and stopped. It was painted gray with white trim and had a new door with a beveled-glass window. The windows were large and looked newer, and pavers had replaced what Emily assumed had once been a cement sidewalk leading up to the house. It looked like it had been taken care of, and that made Emily smile. She wondered if her dad ever drove by here to look at the house. She supposed not; it would probably bring back unhappy memories.

  An SUV pulled into the driveway, and two little kids jumped out and ran to the front door. A tall woman with dark hair followed them inside carrying a bag of groceries.

  Emily thought it was nice that children were living in the house where Libbie had so wanted to raise a family.

  As Emily drove around the cul-de-sac, she spotted an older woman with short, gray hair placing geraniums in a large planter on her porch. Emily wondered if the woman had lived here a long time. She slowed down, looking for a name on the mailbox in front, but there was only a house address. The woman stood up and stared right at Emily. She must have thought she knew Emily because she waved and then went back to her work.

  Emily parked the car and, with all the courage she could muster, walked up the sidewalk toward the older woman. “Excuse me, ma’am. I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”

  The woman turned and stared at her curiously. She looked to be about Emily’s father’s age, had a kind-looking face and warm, brown eyes. She picked up a cane that sat against the house and carefully walked a couple of steps toward Emily.

  “What can I help you with, dear?”

  Emily swallowed hard. She wasn’t the type of person to go running around asking strangers questions, but she forced herself to do it. That was how determined Emily was to find Libbie.

  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I was wondering if you’ve lived here a long time.”

  The woman peered at her through thick glasses and then smiled. “Well, I guess that depends on what you consider a long time.” She laughed. “I’ve lived in this neighborhood since it was first built.”

  Emily’s heart skipped. She took a chance. “Then you must have known my father, Jack Prentice?”

  The woman’s face softened and her smiled widened. “You’re Jack’s daughter? Why yes, I can see it now. My, my.” She shook her head. “Such a long time since I’ve run into your father. How is he?”

  “He’s fine.”

  The woman nodded. “Oh, where are my manners?” She reached out her free hand. “I’m June. And what is your name, dear?”

  Emily shook her hand. “I’m Emily. It’s nice to meet you, June.”

  “Well, aren’t you a lovely girl. I’m sorry about your mother’s passing, dear. I didn’t know her, but I’d read about it in the paper. I’m sure, if she was married to Jack, then she was a wonderful woman.”

  “Thank you, she was,” Emily said. “If you know my father, then you must have known his first wife, Libbie.”

  The elderly woman nodded slowly. “Oh, yes. I knew Libbie. She and I were friends back in those days. But then, she backed away from everyone until we rarely saw her. That was before her breakdown, you know. The one that broke her and Jack up. So sad. She was such a beautiful girl and so sweet, until she started changing. I’ve never quite understood what happened, but I guess it wasn’t my business anyway.”

  Emily’s heart sank. It sounded like she hadn’t stayed friends with Libbie through the years. She asked anyway. “I’ve been searching for Libbie. Is there any chance you know where she is?”

  June’s face turned sad. “No, dear. I have no idea. I never saw her again after that morning I watched her father drive away with her. Never heard about her again, either. It was as if she’d fallen off the face of the earth.”

  Emily sighed. Another dead end. “I appreciate your time, June,” she said. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “You too, dear.”

  Emily waved and turned to walk back to her car when June called her name. She spun around. “Yes?”

  June walked carefully up to Emily. “If you do find Libbie, will you come back and tell me? I’d love so much to see her again. So many of my friends are sick or dying these days. And with my husband now gone and my children living all over the country, I get very lonely. It would be nice to have someone to visit with every now and again.”

  Emily’s heart swelled. How sad to grow old and have no one around to talk to or go places with. It was why she wanted to find Libbie. She just wanted to make sure she was happy and not alone.

  “I’d be happy to let you know if I find her,” she said, smiling at June.

  June’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, dear. And do say hello to Jack for me. We all loved Jack so much. He was a wonderful husband to Libbie and a good friend to everyone in the neighborhood.”

  “I
will. Good-bye.”

  As she drove away, Emily hoped she would find Libbie. She had to be a good person for everyone who knew her to want to see her again. Emily wondered if Libbie knew how much she was loved and missed. She intended to find her so she could tell her.

  On Sunday, Emily went to her grandmother’s for dinner, but Jordan had bowed out—again. He had Twins’ tickets, and he and two friends had driven down to the Cities yesterday to spend the night, see the game today, and then come home that night.

  “I’ve flagged a couple of apartment buildings down there that have openings, so I want to drive by them and see what the neighborhoods look like,” he’d told her. “At some point, though, you and I have to make a trip down to look at a few.”

  Emily had no desire to look at apartments or to move at all. She hadn’t yet asked about transferring to another store in Minneapolis, either. She knew that eventually she’d have to, but right now her heart wasn’t in it.

  Her father had come for dinner and so had Ray and his wife, Ellen. Ray was a good-looking man at age forty-seven and was tall and lean, his dark hair showing only a touch of gray. He’d taken over her grandfather’s cabinet business after Norman retired and had built it up enough to have a nice shop and showroom in a building just west of town. Through the years, he’d expanded the business to include selling flooring, windows, and several national brands of custom cabinets, but he still made handmade custom cabinets, too. Ellen had come to Jamison to attend college and had met Ray, married, and stayed. She worked in the admissions office at Jamison State College. Their two children were now grown and on their own.

  “All we need is Jan and her husband, and everyone would be here,” Bev said, as she bustled between the kitchen and dining room. Jan still lived in the Cities and rarely came up to visit. She’d married Evan Goddard, and they’d had three beautiful girls. Evan had worked as a manager for a restaurant for years and then finally opened his own, and now they owned three restaurants around the Minneapolis area. Emily knew that Bev was proud of Jan but wished she could see more of her.

  “Once you move into the town house, maybe you can visit Jan more often,” Jack said, taking a carrot from the vegetable platter.

  Bev nodded but kept on working. Emily glanced at her dad. Like Ray, he was tall and slender, but his dark hair was peppered with gray. His hands were rough and stained from years of working on engines, and his face was lined and weathered. But his smile still came easily, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. He still had that easygoing nature that made people like him immediately. Considering what Emily knew now, how her father had lost not one love in his life but two, it amazed her how he managed to keep his sense of humor and not be bitter.

  “Is there something on my face?” he asked, winking at his daughter.

  Emily shook herself out of her thoughts. “No, no. I was just thinking.”

  Jack grinned.

  Emily wished she had the courage to tell him she knew about Libbie, but she was afraid he’d ask her not to search for her. And she just had to. She was so drawn to their story; she had to see if it had a happy ending. She knew her father had enjoyed a good life, but she needed to know if Libbie had, too. Every night, she opened the box of pictures and studied them, wondering how such a lovely looking couple could endure so much pain. It broke her heart to think of Libbie out there somewhere, alone, with no family. She hoped she was wrong and that she was having the time of her life surrounded by people who loved her. At least her dad had his family and children; she hoped Libbie had someone, too.

  The weeks flew by and June came with warm days and cool nights. Emily still hadn’t had any luck finding Libbie and had run out of ways to search for her. Short of calling every facility on her list—or visiting them—there was no way for her to track Libbie down. It made Emily sad to think that she might never find Libbie, but what choice did she have?

  She and Jordan were having problems, too. He’d begun teaching summer classes at the college, and he was taking a class also, so they were both very busy. But more and more, he was pressing her about moving in the fall. Emily still didn’t feel good about the move.

  “But it’s for our future,” he insisted one day when she hadn’t reacted to the apartments he showed her online that were possibilities.

  “It’s for your future,” she said, surprising even herself.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily admitted. She didn’t understand why she had started to resent his going to school after all these years. She should be happy for him. He’d have his final degree in a year, and then she could move on with her education. Maybe. They’d been focusing on his career for so long, she didn’t know how to focus on herself anymore.

  She’d ended the conversation there and they hadn’t broached the subject again. Yet. But she knew he’d bring it up soon. She had to decide what she wanted to do about it. One choice was to give up the life she’d built here among her family. The other was to give up Jordan. It was a difficult decision.

  Monday morning, Emily walked into work a half hour before it opened to get her department’s registers ready for the day. As she was putting her purse away in the employee break room, the store manager, Carson Wheetly, came up to her with a thick manila envelope.

  “Hi, Carson. What’s up?” Emily said.

  “Happy Monday morning,” he said, handing her the envelope. “We had problems Saturday with the registers again, and the bookkeeper is in a tizzy. Apparently, none of the registers balanced properly. The cashiers had to write everything down manually, and then they keyed it in later when the registers started working again. We’re asking all the department managers to check the credit card and check receipts against the register tape to make sure they are correct. I have a feeling that some cash sales were keyed in as checks or credit cards, so that’s why the cash is off.”

  Emily sighed. “Great. Sounds like this is starting out to be a good day. We really need a new register system. These are ancient.”

  Carson nodded. “I know. We’re constantly telling corporate that, but you know how slow everything goes.”

  Emily nodded. She went to bookkeeping and retrieved her cash register drawers, then walked out on the sales floor to the women’s wear department. She managed both women’s wear and outerwear, along with accessories. After locking the cash drawers into the registers at the large square counter that served all three departments, she began working on the long list of credit card and check receipts.

  Methodically, she went down the register tape and checked off the amounts against the pile of checks and credit card receipts. She found a couple of instances where a check had been keyed in as cash and one credit card receipt that had also been keyed in as cash. If the register had been working properly, it would never have allowed this to happen.

  Allison, a sales associate in her department, came in just as the doors to the store opened for business. She was a short, petite girl with long dark hair, and she had worked with Emily for two years. Allison groaned, telling Emily how crazy Saturday had been—busy, and with register problems. Emily showed her the couple of mistakes she’d found so far, and Allison sighed with relief that it had been another sales associate who’d made those mistakes and not her.

  “But you can’t blame her. It was so busy.”

  Emily continued working on her project, while Allison helped customers and rang up sales. Another credit card receipt didn’t match any on the register tape, so Emily glanced down the long strip of paper at unmarked checks. There it was, halfway down. She checked it off and made a notation on a pad of paper that it had been keyed in wrong. When she looked at the name on the credit card receipt to write it down for the bookkeeper, she stopped short.

  E. Wilkens.

  Emily stared at the name. E. Wilkens. She looked at the signature on the bottom of the receipt. It was shaky but otherwise a nicely handwritten script. E. Wilkens. Elizabeth Wilkens?

  “Oh my God,” Emi
ly said under her breath. “It can’t be.”

  Her heart now pounding, she looked at the name of the clerk who’d keyed it in. Allison.

  Emily shoved the paperwork under the desk and went in search of Allison. She found her in the dress section, zipping up dresses and straightening a rack.

  “Can you believe how messy this is? I swear, the girls on Sunday didn’t straighten anything,” Alison complained.

  “Allison. Look at this. Do you remember who this was?” Emily asked, shoving the receipt under her nose.

  Allison glanced at it. “Why? Did I key it in wrong?”

  “Well, yes, you did, but that’s not why I’m asking. Do you remember who this person was? E. Wilkens. Does the name ring a bell?”

  Allison looked at the receipt again and then shrugged. “Not really. We were so busy on Saturday.”

  “You have to remember,” Emily said, exasperated. She looked over the receipt. “It was at 2:35 p.m., and she bought a yellow dress and a cream-colored spring coat. Don’t you remember selling a yellow dress to anyone?”

  Allison frowned, deep in thought. “Yeah, I do. It was at that time that we had a bus of elderly ladies come in all at once. Oh, yeah, I remember. It was that sweet older lady who comes here about once a month with a group of ladies from some nursing home or something. But her name doesn’t start with an E. People call her something else.” Allison looked directly at Emily. “You know who she is. You’ve waited on her before, too. She’s short, like me, and tiny, with her long silver hair pulled up. She has a nice smile. I just can’t think of what the other ladies call her.”

  “Libbie?” Emily asked, picturing the elderly woman Allison was talking about.

  “Yeah. That’s it. Libbie. What’s that short for, anyway?”

  “Elizabeth,” Emily said, hardly able to believe that she’d found Libbie. And here, right under her nose. She’d actually waited on her before and talked to her. She was a quiet, sweet woman who loved blue, emerald, and yellow dresses.