Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Should we go through the rest of these boxes?” Rory asks.
“I don’t think there’s any need to further violate his privacy. We found the shoebox.”
“I agree.” She closes the box. “Havisham can come down here and retape these.”
I grab the shoebox and help Rory to her feet. “How long have we been down here?”
She looks at her watch. “About an hour and a half.”
“Still about half an hour before dinner, then,” I say. “Maybe we can talk to Ennis now. This stuff isn’t exactly good dinner conversation.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RORY
Ennis was napping before dinner, so we didn’t have time to talk to him until dinner anyway, which is now being served in a formal dining room.
For such an affair, I’m expecting a four- or five-course dinner, but Ennis surprises us.
“I told Havisham to order from one of my favorite restaurants this evening. I wasn’t sure the two of you would enjoy English food, so we’re having Italian.”
Actually, I would love to try a traditional English dinner, but we can go to a restaurant tomorrow evening.
Havisham serves us veal Marsala, broccoli with basil, and a side of spaghetti marinara, already plated. On our bread plates, he sets white bread with individual cruets of olive oil.
“We don’t stand on ceremony here, regardless of Havisham’s manners. Please. Dig in.”
Brock smiles. “I think that’s an American phrase.”
“I lived in your country for the better part of my life,” Ennis says. “Except for the accent, I’m more American than I am English now.”
“We found the shoebox, Ennis.” Brock dips his bread in some olive oil.
“Oh, good. I’m glad I still have it after all these years. Was there anything in there that can help you?”
“We think there may be.” Brock clears his throat. “We’d like your permission to take the box and its contents back with us to the States.”
Ennis frowns.
For a moment, I’m not sure he’s going to allow us to take it, and this will have all been for nothing.
But then, “Of course. I knew when I let you look that I would have to part with those things. You do what you need to do, Brock.”
“Thank you so much,” Brock says.
“Yes, thank you,” I echo. “Brock and I understand how much this stuff means to you, and we will return it intact if we can.”
Ennis sighs and takes a sip of the Chianti next to his plate. “No. Don’t worry about that. I don’t have many years left in this life, and the more I’ve lived and the older I’ve gotten, the more I understand that things really don’t matter. Things can be gone in an instant. What matters are people. Relationships.” He swallows back a choke. “Memories.”
His words touch my heart. Their truth flows through me, and even though my family lost its livelihood in that fire, I know we will survive. Because we are all here. We have each other.
No matter what Pat Lamone tries to do to Callie and me, she and I will survive.
And the Steel family? They will survive. They always do.
But Patty Watson? Beautiful, vivacious, redheaded Patty Watson? Her life was taken from her. And somehow her bones ended up on the Steel property.
Life is so unfair to some.
“Tell me,” Ennis says, “how is Ryan?”
“He’s good,” Brock says. “Did you ever meet his daughters?”
“Only the first one, Ava. I returned to England shortly after she was born.”
“You wouldn’t recognize her now,” I say. “She’s the rebel of the Steel family. She wears her hair in this gorgeous pink color.”
Ennis smiles. “Does she? Do you have photos?”
“I do,” Brock says. “I have photos of all my family. I’d be happy to show them to you after dinner.”
“I’d like that a lot.”
“Ryan and his wife, Ruby, will celebrate their anniversary soon,” Brock says.
“Yes, I remember. Thanksgiving. I always loved that American holiday. Imagine, a whole holiday devoted to being thankful. Sometimes we forget to express gratitude for all that we have. Sometimes we…”
I glance at Brock. He slightly shakes his head at me.
Silence, until—
“I’m sorry,” Ennis says. “I get a little emotional about Patty, but it does help to remember all that I have to be thankful for. Tell me. How are Dale and Donny?”
“They’re good,” Brock says. “Dale is the master winemaker now.”
Ennis smiles. “I knew he would be. Even when he was young, I could see he had the gift. He was so creative. So quiet and contemplative, but creative. And Donny?”
“The city attorney for Snow Creek,” Brock says. “Aunt Jade retired.”
“Did she?” Ennis chuckles. “I never thought I’d see that day.”
Brock and I smile.
But Ennis’s countenance changes, goes darker. “Your family has been through so much,” he says. “Jade was a light for your uncle. A light he badly needed.”
“So you were there when…” Brock doesn’t finish.
“When Talon came home? When they solved the mystery of his abduction? Yes, I was there. I lived all of it. You see, I was there when Talon was taken.”