Her grandmother had started off writing puff pieces, a far cry from the serious, feminist essays she was so well-known for. Essays that delved into what true equality between the sexes entailed, and that stressed the importance of women working outside the home, of having a passion beyond children and housework. The newsletters were terrific artifacts on Laura Lyons’s early domestic life, and Sadie couldn’t wait to share them with Dr. Hooper.
But her excitement was tempered by a letter she found in the last of the boxes, in a file marked CONFIDENTIAL. It contained a letter from a man named Edwin Gaillard, dated May 1914.
Dr. Anderson,
After a thorough investigation, I’m sorry to admit that I’m still stymied. It’s almost as if the thief dropped from the sky, stole the books, and then disappeared. I understand your concern that we will face great difficulty as an institution if this most recent incident becomes known. Mr. and Mrs. Lyons are under watch, and in the meantime, I will do what I can to keep this quiet, per your request.
Her grandparents had been “under watch,” whatever that meant, associated with some kind of book theft. The strange letter curbed Sadie’s desire to share her own lineage with Dr. Hooper. Laura Lyons, hailed as a “new feminist icon” in the New York Review of Books a few years ago, appeared to have had a shady past, one that was probably better left alone.
Sadie called her brother, Lonnie, from her office.
“I’ve got some news,” said Sadie when he picked up. “Marlene has taken another job, and so for the short term, I’m in charge of the Berg Collection.”
She laughed as her brother let out a whoop on the other end of the line. She explained about Marlene’s new position in Boston and how she’d been chosen by Dr. Hooper to take over. Temporarily.
Even though they lived a few blocks from each other in Murray Hill, Sadie had made a point of reaching out to Lonnie at least once a week on the telephone since their mother had moved in with him and his wife, LuAnn, a month ago. The move was temporary—once Pearl recovered from a bout of pneumonia, she’d go back to her place in her senior center—but since Lonnie was a doctor and had more than enough room in the four-story town house they’d grown up in, it made sense to keep Pearl close to home. Still, Sadie felt a stab of guilt at how much her brother was juggling these days, and touching base by phone was the least she could do. So Sadie had written the weekly phone call into her Filofax calendar and, every week, crossed it off when completed. Most of the time their calls consisted of Sadie rattling off the minutiae of her job, but sometimes Lonnie recounted one of the more interesting cases at the hospital, and she’d listen closely and ask lots of questions, encouraging him to open up. Their ten-year age difference meant that they had never really bonded as children. Sadie had been a late-in-life surprise for her mother, and when their father passed away, when Sadie was eight, Lonnie was already off at college.
But when LuAnn had entered the picture, Sadie and Lonnie’s mutual adoration of her had acted as a sort of sibling bypass operation, pulling them closer in spite of their very different personalities and childhoods.
“I’m proud of you, sis,” said Lonnie. “LuAnn will be thrilled. We’ll have to celebrate when she’s back.”
LuAnn traveled extensively for her job as a corporate lawyer. “When does your lovely wife return?”
“Not until Saturday.”
Sadie leaned back in her office chair, happy to have the room to herself. Claude had spent the day in a snit, upset about the sudden turn of events, and when he finally left, it was like a noxious cloud evaporating. “Here’s the thing, though. Dr. Hooper wants me to find something about Laura Lyons to include in the exhibit.”
He listened quietly as she filled him in on the discovery of the newsletters and the disturbing note. “That’s crazy. I wonder what it’s all about.”
“Did Mom ever mention anything about an investigation?”
He laughed. “Mom never mentions anything at all, you know that. That woman’s a closed book.”
“How’s she doing today?”
“Physically better, but mentally still uncertain about things. The hospital stay confused her, and she’s still not quite all there. The day nurse just left. She’s been asking for you. Hold on a second.” His voice became distant. “Valentina, you have to wear a coat, don’t be silly.”
“Where is she going?” asked Sadie.
“She and Robin are going out for ice cream.”
Robin, the new babysitter, had recently taken over looking after Valentina, a role that Sadie had gladly undertaken after she’d been born, right around the time Sadie had divorced Phillip. LuAnn had folded her sister-in-law into her own family, in the hope that caring for the new baby would bring Sadie out of her depression. Indeed, helping to raise Valentina had been Sadie’s absolute privilege and joy, but lately, with the exhibition looming, she’d been unable to devote as much time as before. LuAnn said it was a natural progression and that it made sense for Sadie to open up her life now. Six years was a long time to mourn a husband who really wasn’t worth mourning. And who wasn’t even dead.
“Isn’t it late?” Sadie asked Lonnie. “They’re going out for ice cream now?”
“It’s not that late, and they’re not going far.”
“How’s Robin working out?”
“Robin’s great. We really lucked out. Valentina loves her to death.”
Sadie felt a prick of jealousy. “Maybe I’ll stop by, say hi to Mom before bed.”
“Sure thing.”
She told him she was on her way.
* * *
As Sadie turned the corner to Lonnie’s town house, she spotted Valentina’s moss-green coat, the one they’d picked out together in the fall, hurtling down the sidewalk toward her. Valentina ran into her arms as Sadie leaned down to hug her. The girl beamed up at her, her blue eyes bright against the whiteness of her skin and hair, a trace of chocolate ice cream on one cheek, before pulling away and gesturing to the new babysitter.
“Aunt Sadie, this is Robin Larkin.”
“So formal of you, my girl,” said Sadie. “But we’ve already met.”
Sadie and Lonnie had been at the playground in the park a couple of weeks ago when Valentina had fallen from the swings. Robin had been standing nearby, watching over a set of twins, and had gotten to her first. During the comforting and patch-up stages—Robin had had a Band-Aid handy—they’d learned that she was looking for a new position, as the twins were moving out of the city, and Valentina had insisted Robin become her babysitter. Lonnie had called her references and, after checking with LuAnn, had given her the green light.