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I follow her to the kitchen and hardly take in the worn state of everything inside the house. I just want to know what happened to my mom and dad. Even if they died, it would be more than I have now. At least then I’ll know they didn’t leave me by choice and that makes all the difference.
I sit down on a rickety chair and wait for Maggie to finish making the tea.
When she places a cracked cup in front of me, I smile gratefully.
“Thank you. Can you tell me more about my mom?” I ask hopefully.
Maggie lights a cigarette before her tired brown eyes lock on mine.
“It’s a sad story. What happened to those kids, it’s this town’s biggest tragedy.”
I grip my hands together on my lap, steeling myself as best I can for what’s to come.
“What did you say your name was?” Maggie asks as a ball of smoke billows around her head.
“Evie Cole,” I whisper.
Maggie starts to blink rapidly as she gets emotional.
“At least you got your daddy’s last name. That’s good,” she says, nodding to herself.
“Hayden Cole?” I ask to make sure I have the right name.
“Yeah, Hayden Dean Cole and Josephine Bailey. You should know your parents loved each other very much.”
I lick my dry lips, and ask, “What happened to them?”
Maggie takes one last deep drag before she kills the cigarette in an overfull ashtray.
“I’ve got some of Joey’s things. I didn’t have the heart to throw them out.”
As she gets up and shuffles out of the room, I bite my bottom lip as my right leg starts to jump. It doesn’t take Maggie long to come back with a shoebox. Besides the coloring of age, the box is in better shape than anything else I’ve seen in this town.
“Joe Bailey was slapped upside the head by the devil himself. He’s your granddaddy. He had a mean streak, and the drinking only made it worse. Your grandmamma died giving birth to your mamma, just like your mamma died giving birth to you.”
Sorrow for a woman I’ve never known floods my heart. My eyes start to burn, and I fight hard to keep the tears back.
Maggie opens the box, taking a faded photo from it. She hands it to me, and when I see the young couple smiling up at the camera from where they’re sitting at this very table, my sight blurs.
I blink quickly, wanting to take in everything about them. The girl is pretty, and her smile is so broad, it doesn’t look like she has a care in the world. She has the same wild red hair like me. We could’ve been twins. My eyes skip to my dad’s face.
“You got your daddy’s eyes. Every girl in town was crazy for that boy.”
A tear escapes my eye, and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
“But he loved my mom,” I whisper, carefully caressing my thumb over their faces. This is the closest I’ll ever get to touching them.
“After the funeral, I asked Joe what happened to you. He never answered me. He took the secret to his grave a week after Joey died. Drowned himself in one too many bottles of brandy.”
“How old was my mom when she gave birth to me?” I have so many questions about my parent, but that’s the first one that comes to mind.
“She was eighteen. Joey and Hayden were high school sweethearts. Bobby made an honest woman of your mamma. They got engaged before he left to serve his time for his country.”
Another tear rolls down my cheek, but this time I leave it as I whisper, “Did he die while serving?”
“Hayden was an only child. His mamma,” she pauses to light a cigarette, “your grandmamma died during his senior year. That boy worked his fingers to the bone so he could finish school. He had so much potential. We all thought Hayden and Joey would make it out of this town and have themselves a fairytale life in the city.”
Maggie finishes her tea before she digs into the box again. She takes out a stack of the letters, tied neatly with a pale pink ribbon.
