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She took the box, her gaze alight with wonder as she ran her fingertips over the ornately carved exterior.
“I have never seen this before.”
I was curious to see her reaction and hear her thoughts when she read some of the letters. She opened the lid and then looked up at me, lifting her brows.
“Letters?”
I nodded. “Love letters. To Grammy from someone whose name starts with the letter T. Do you know who that could be?”
“No,” she whispered, turning her attention back to the box as she picked up a letter and unfolded it gently, examining the perfectly elegant penmanship within. I’d never seen a man write so neatly.
My mother’s face was unreadable, her eyes wide as she scanned the page.
“I have no clue who this guy is,” she said. “It’s obvious my grandparents didn’t approve of him, but I wonder what happened to break them up.”
She rummaged through the letters until she found the one from T saying he was going to ask for my grandmother’s hand in marriage. She ran her thumb over the creases, her lips pressed together into a tight line.
“My mother sure did have some secrets, didn’t she?”
She looked at me for confirmation and I nodded. “I thought she shared everything with me, but it looks like I was wrong. I wonder if Georgia knows anything; she was Grammy’s best friend.”
Carefully folding the letter, she tucked it away in the box and sighed before turning her gaze back to me. “Maybe. You could always ask her. I’m sure your grandmother had reasons for keeping the relationship a secret. I just wish we could find out more.”
I gestured to the box, shaking my head. “I’ve read every single one of these letters, and there are no clues whatsoever as to what happened between them.”
The door opened, and a petite woman entered the room with a little girl in tow. The mother had bright red hair that cascaded down her back in wavy tendrils, while the little girl’s was tightly coiled into Shirley Temple curls. Both had matching freckles sprinkled across their fair skin.
As they approached the desk, the mother’s gaze was desperate. “Hi. I’m so sorry just to walk in, but my little girl is sick. Her throat hurts and she’s not eating or drinking anything. I think she has strep. Is there any way you can squeeze us in to see the doctor?”
My mother smiled sweetly at the little girl and then focused back on the mother. “It’s no problem at all. The doctor is with a patient right now, but it shouldn’t be too long.”
I placed a hand on my mom’s shoulder. “No, let me take it. I’m here, so I might as well help out, right?” Without waiting for her reply, I turned to the mother and held out my hand. “I’m Dr. Everleigh Abbott.”
She shook my hand and smiled. “Rosalee Whitaker.”
There was a picture of my father on the wall, along with his credentials and I pointed at it. “This is my father’s office, but I would love to see what’s going on with . . .” I let the words trail off and shifted my attention to the little girl, lifting my brows in question.
Rosalee leaned down toward her daughter. “Tell her your name, honey.”
The little girl swallowed and winced; I could tell she was in pain. “Emory,” she whispered hoarsely.
“All right, Emory,” I said softly, “I’ll bring you back in a minute. Your mommy has to fill out some paperwork first, okay?”
Once my mom handed Rosalee the paperwork, she grabbed her daughter’s hand, and they sat down.
“Thank you,” my mom said to me. “I used to love it when you’d help us out. You fit in so well here.”
There had been hints thrown at me for years from both my mom and dad. I knew they’d give anything to have me working with them and take over the practice.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I teased, smiling at her.
She held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. Janie is in the back somewhere if you want her to help you.”
I shook my head. “I got this. Do you still have a pair of extra scrubs in Dad’s office?”
Her grin widened. “I do.”
Rosalee was still filling out the paperwork, so I hurried down the hallway past the exam rooms to my father’s office. The extra scrubs were in his closet, and I changed into them quickly. When I returned to the front, the paperwork had been completed.
