Page 129 of The Treasure House

“But I want the book,” she said.

“Keep reading,” Marly told Freddie airily. “We were just in the neighborhood. We didn’t mean to upset story time.” She also dropped a kiss on Amber’s cheek. “I just thought you might want to meet Jake’s Zoe.”

I flushed. Jake’s mom gave me a confused looking-over.

“Zoe from Tinker Street?” Freddie rose from his chair, delighted. He oozed charm, just as I imagined he would from reading his letters. “The girl who found my postcards?” He winked at me. “And here I thought Marly had thrown them away.”

“I told you I hadn’t.” She poked him. “They were just lost in the house.”

“I want the book,” Amber said, sounding distressed.

“You’d best get reading.” Marly pushed Freddie back down into the chair. “Don’t upset her. You can charm Zoe later. Jake will be bringing her to dinner later this week.”

“I will?” Jake sounded disgruntled.

“You will if you know what’s good for you.”

I watched, struck, as Freddie kissed his wife goodbye. It was like seeing a character step out from a book, long after you thought the book had ended.

“Don’t be too late,” Marly murmured to him as she pulled away.

“I’ll stay until she doesn’t need me anymore.” And then he put his reading glasses back on, picked up the book and started reading aloud again. Amber settled, her gaze riveted on her father’s face, hanging on his every word.

“He was always better with her than I was,” Marly admitted as she closed the door behind us on the way out.

“You’re too similar is all.” Jake sighed. He seemed drained by the brief interaction with his mom.

Marly shot him a look. “I don’t collect junk.”

“Similar but not exactly the same,” he amended. “You’ve both got sharp tongues.”

Marly took pity on him and looped her arm through his. “It gets easier when you stop looking for your mom in her.” She sighed. “And just accept her for who she is.” She threw me a glance too. “Same goes for you. There’s no point trying to turn the tides.”

“Says the woman who’s spent her whole life turning tides,” Jake said dryly.

“He gets his sharp tongue from me,” Marly told me.

We drove back to Marly and Freddie’s house, and I slid out from Jake’s car and into mine.

“I’ll follow you home,” he promised.

Marly bent over my open car door. “You come by any time,” she told me. “And Zoe?”

“Yes?”

“Not all stories are tragedies, honey, even if they inevitably end.” She patted me on the cheek with her cold glove. “Enjoy what you have, hmmm?” She glanced over at her grandson and then winked at me. She laughed when I blushed. “And you remember: that house of mine was happier than it was sad, and full of more love than it could hold. You keep it full, okay?” She leaned in closer. “You are very loved,” she told me firmly. “Don’t ever doubt it.”

“How do you know?” I said in a small voice.

“I just do.” She stared into me. “Sometimes people can’t tell you, or show you, for reasons entirely out of their control. It took me a long time to learn that.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Take care of my place, won’t you? And take care of you. I’ll see you for dinner next week.”

She closed the door and waved me off. As I drove away, I saw her in the rearview mirror, standing on her porch, making sure we went safely into the snowy night.

Thirty

Suni was waiting up for me when I got in. She was sitting on the sofa in the parlor, staring at the open fire, her lap full of sleeping kittens. She looked up when I came in, and I saw her face was pinched and drawn in the dancing lights of the Christmas tree.

“Everything okay?” she asked carefully.