When he put his hand on the lid, Casey covered it with her own. “Are you sure you want to see what’s inside? This box probably belonged to your mother.”
He met her eyes. “You know, I think being here, where my mother was so very happy, and with you treating me like a real person, is healing me.”
“That’s a very nice thing to say. Thank you.”
“But again, it might be your pies that are doing the most damage repair.”
Laughing, Casey removed her hand.
Tate got up to get what was left of the candle and set it by them. It was lighter outside now and they could see.
Inside the box were little things that would fascinate children. There was a silver tiger’s head that looked to have been broken off an old cane. Tate held up a strange dried-up item.
“Chicken claw,” Casey said, and he set it aside.
There were three marbles with gold-colored centers, two silver dollars dated 1910, and a long bullet in a brass casing.
“M-One, World War Two,” Tate said.
“Learn that from a movie?”
“Yeah. I died from one of those. But it was in the arms of a woman I loved, so it was okay.”
“Did you love her? I mean the actress.”
“For the first half of the movie, I made an effort to. In the second half I found her in the director’s trailer. Funny how quickly love can disappear at the sight of legs in the air.”
“Or being told your boyfriend is dating his paralegal and he likes her. I took that to mean that he’d never actually liked me.” She pulled out three matchbook covers from the box. They were from local businesses that no longer existed.
“I’m sorry he took his inadequacies out on you.”
“I should have—”
He leaned across the box and kissed her. “Don’t say that. You were working hard. You did nothing wrong.” He smiled. “On the other hand, I’m glad he was such a douchebag. If he hadn’t been, you wouldn’t be here with me now.”
“To share an afternoon of truly wonderful sex?”
“Thanks, but that’s not what I meant,” he said. “I was talking about outside of here. I dreaded coming to Tattwell, but you’ve made it a joy.”
She kissed him in thanks, then looked back at the box. “What’s this?” She held up a scrap of black velvet, so old the fuzz was mostly gone. “Something’s inside it.” Slowly, she opened the fabric. Inside was a ring that appeared to be an antique. It was white gold, with a large round clear stone surrounded by cutwork and tiny brilliants.
When she held it up to the light, it flashed and sparkled. “This looks real.”
“I think it might be.”
“We have to find the owner of this ring.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a ridiculous statement. “Wonder how long it’s been in here?”
“Thirty, forty years, something like that.”
Casey was peering inside the ring’s band. There was no engraving. “Why did your mother’s family stop coming?”
“My grandparents taught school, so they had summers free and came here to work for Uncle Freddy. But the winter my mom turned ten, Granddad got a job in California as an engineer in a shipbuilding plant. It was a year-round job.”
“Did they visit Uncle Freddy?”
“Once or twice, but not often.”
“Poor man. He must have missed them very much.”