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When the door opened, she was surprised to see none other than her father. He, on the other hand, seemed equally shocked to see her here.
"Leah?" he wondered, with a frown on his forehead that made him look even older than he was. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
"I... I forgot it was Thursday," she said with a reassuring smile. "I was hoping to surprise you, but then Stephens reminded me which day it was. I decided to stay and look for a few of my favorite books, and take them with me, if that was all right."
"Of course, it is," he nodded. "You don't even need to ask such a thing."
"Thank you, Father," she replied sweetly. "You know, this place always reminds me of Mother. She loved spending afternoons here, with me. She would read to me whatever I wanted her to, and she had the most perfect reading voice." Leah glanced to the side and noticed two of the books she adored when she was a child. "These were one of the books I wished to take with me." She showed them to him. He just nodded. Her father had never been an avid reader, although he always understood the importance and value of a well-stocked library.
"I just wish I had something more personal of hers, something I could carry with me at all times," Leah sighed, not caring whether this would trigger a confrontation with her father or not. Led by Edward's example, she decided that she would not allow others to dictate how she felt about things any longer, especially not her own mother. She and her mother were more alike than her father wanted to admit, but that was his problem. Leah would not make it her own, not anymore.
To her surprise, her father's reaction was unlike anything she could have anticipated. "Leah, I–" he spoke slowly, cautiously selecting his words as he approached her. "I know I haven't been there when your mother–" He could not finish that sentence, and she understood why. He loved her too much not to have at least a little part of himself still hoping that it was all just a terrible mistake, and his wife would one day return home and everything would be the way it was before. She envied him for that.
"When you needed me the most," he continued his sentence in a different manner, which still meant the same thing. "I cannot express my regret to you for this. She was my wife, but she was your mother as well. We needed to be each other's shelter in a storm, and I pushed you away by forcing you to be something you are not."
Leah listened to his words incredulously. She could not believe that he of all people was the one saying them. Still, she allowed him to continue, not wishing to interrupt his outburst of emotion, which happened once in a blue moon.
"I will forever blame myself for not keeping your mother safe, when that was my duty as her husband, to love her, cherish her and protect her. I failed in that last part. I can only hope that your husband will know how to protect you, because you are as stubborn and as resolute as your dear mother was, God rest her soul." He inhaled deeply. Obviously, this confession took a toll on him. But he wanted to continue. "I have taken all of your mother's belongings and packed them in boxes, up in the attic. I... I just couldn't bear to look at them, when she wasn't here to use any of it. It just brings painful memories."
Leah noticed when her mother's things had suddenly disappeared from the common rooms. She didn't question it. Her father's behavior explained it all. Only, now she understood him much more than before, now that he had opened up to her about his emotions and his grief at losing his wife.
"Perhaps you could find something in there," he suggested. "Something to take with you, to remind you of her."
Leah suddenly felt overwhelmed by this unexpected clarification. She felt it made her closer to her father than they had ever been before. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, just like she used to do when she was a little girl, who felt the safest in her father's arms. Now, she felt the safest in someone else's arms, in the arms of the man who believed all of her fears and doubts, who promised to see them to the end with her. Even if they never found out what happened to either her mother or his parents, she knew that she would forever be grateful to him for this.
Her father hugged her back, and they remained like that for a long time, with neither of them willing to let go. Finally, when they did, Leah felt as if a huge burden had just been lifted off of her heart and soul.
"I know this is not your home any longer, but you can always come back here," he told her, holding her hands. "Always."
"Thank you, Father," she smiled, kissing him on the cheek. "Perhaps we could have a cup of tea after I've gone through the things up in the attic."
"I would like that," he nodded, watching her turn around and go out of the library.
She immediately headed up to the attic, her heart beating wildly in anticipation of all the things she could find there. She always believed that her mother had boxes and boxes filled with all sorts of wonderful things, like jewelry, statues, trinkets, mementos from places she had visited as a young girl. She would even show Leah some of these things, which in her child's eye were akin to something magical.
Even now, from this perspective, when Leah entered the attic, it seemed as if it was an almost sacred place. The light shone in thin strips of yellow through the windows, and the dust danced upon it ever so lightly. She went with her fingers through it, disturbing them, only for them to continue their dance as if nothing had happened.
She enjoyed the silence of the place, as she looked at the boxes. She dared not touch them at first, as if she might disturb their sanctity. Eventually, curiosity won over. She opened the first box with trembling fingers. Her lips were dry. There were several letters, which she read in one breath, but they were all letters from friends and family. There was nothing out of the ordinary about them, so she moved on to the next box.
This box contained some of her mother's favorite clothing items. There was her burgundy silken scarf, which still smelled like her. Leah crumpled it up in her hands and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply, with her eyes closed. The familiar scent brought forth a sensation of serenity, which Leah had not felt in a long time. She almost regretted having to open her eyes, because that would mean the bubble of serenity would be dispersed, and she would be back to the present moment.
Still, she opened her eyes and continued sorting out the items from the box. Her mother's little coin purse, her gloves, her fan. They were all so precious, so dainty. It made Leah sad to know that they were wasting away in this box. She had to take them all, so she started putting things in one box which she emptied and reserved for things she would be bringing home with her.
When she opened the fourth box, she knew that it would contain something truly special. On the very bottom, wrapped in brown paper, there was a leather book. Only when Leah opened it did she realize that it was not a box at all. It was her mother's diary.
The knowledge made her want to scream with delight. If there was anything her mother wanted her to know, it would be in there. She wanted to read it immediately, but there was too much of it. She needed to focus all of her energy on it. And not only that, but she also needed to tell Edward about it, so they could read it together. He deserved to know about this as much as she did.
She quickly grabbed as much as the box could fit, with the diary on top of it, then she closed it, and took it downstairs with her. As promised, she had tea with her father, neglecting to mention that she had found her mother's diary. Yes, they were her mother's intimate, private thoughts, but she needed to read them all. She needed to find out what happened. So, she couldn't risk her father demanding it back.
As she rode home, Leah could not wait to get back and tell Edward about her findings. She knew he would be as excited about it as she was.
CHAPTER19
"Edward! Edward!" He heard Leah call out his name in a manner that made her voice ring throughout the mansion. "Edward, are you here?"
Usually, he did not like noise. It distracted him. It made him nervous. He preferred peace and quiet. But with Leah, he would take the sound of her voice over silence any day. He stood up from his chair in his study and went to the door to open it.
"In here!" he shouted in the doorway, listening to the sound of her footsteps climbing up the stairs hastily. Then, he saw her running down the corridor, carrying a big cardboard box in her hands, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes filled with hope. Never had she appeared more beautiful than at this very moment.
