“I get it, but it’s just easier,” Kit said. “You know…my dad. Enough said.” Kit had moved back in with her parents after Carson’s death, and her dad was a retired admiral. He was pretty easygoing but Hadley could see how Kit hadn’t wanted this to become an issue. Kit chuckled a little. “Dad tries to pretend he doesn’t care but I can see his gaze wandering to all that hair multiple times a day.”
“Well, regardless of what length his hair is, he’s a great kid. Whip-smart too,” Hadley said, searching for something to make Kit laugh. “Except he called Cooper a poopyhead.” She looked from one friend to the other. “Wonder where he got that from?”
“That was supposed to be a secret.” Kit barely held back a grin.
“Hey,” Darla said. “At least we controlled ourselves and didn’t teach him anything worse.”
Hadley took a sip of wine. She felt better already, being among her dearest friends. They always had her back. And always would.
“So we want to hear more about your run-in the other day at the hospital.” Darla dumped a pile of sweaters on the bed. “With Cam.”
“Ancient history.” Hadley waved her hand. “Wait a minute…” She looked at Darla. “How did you know I had a run-in with him at the hospital?”
“Because I was getting some bloodwork drawn and I ran into Jenny Falkes. It was huge news that Cam showed up on the ward.”
“Who knew your high school ex would become so famous?” Kit said.
“Do you even call high school boyfriends exes?” Darla asked. “More like first loves. Sweethearts.”
“I’m definitely sticking to ex,” Hadley said. “Nice and unemotional.” Yes. She didn’t want to complicate her current dealings with Cam with any words that would bring back memories of being head over heels for him. Or remind her how he was still capable of raising her body temperature a hundred degrees, two hundred if he happened to smile.
“Agreed.” Darla clinked glasses with Hadley.
“At least Nick is a nice guy for an ex,” Kit said.
“Being nice doesn’t guarantee you can make it work,” Darla said. She and Cam’s brother had married young, right out of college, and had divorced a couple of years later. As far as Hadley could tell, they did their best to avoid each other.
“Do you two ever talk?” Kit asked.
“Not really,” Darla said. “I mean, he called me every week during my chemo and always offered to drive me but we really don’t have much to say. I originally wasn’t going to buy this place because he’s nearby but then I thought, life’s too short, you know? I didn’t want anything to stop me from moving back home, close to my mom and the place that I love most in the world.”
It was also no accident that Darla had bought the most modern house on the beach. Cammareri Vintage Home Remodeling didn’t have a chance of ever stepping foot in this home.
They got to work unpacking boxes and helping Darla load up her closet. But when Hadley sliced open her next box, she found, atop a pile of clothes, an old cigar box, like the kind she used to store her crayons in as a kid. “Where do you want this?” she asked, holding it up.
“I have no idea what’s in there.” Darla walked over to examine it. “Oh, I remember. My mom gave me this. It’s some old stuff from when her great-aunt died. She said something about vintage scarves—thought I might be able to use them. But my hair was pretty grown in by then so I never got around to opening it.”
Inside the box was a bundle of letters tied with a rubber band, a few old silk scarves, and…an old sock.
Hadley held up the sock. It was long, handmade, and woolen, with darning over the toes and heel. “Keep or pitch?” Hadley asked, making a face. Because it definitely did not look like the kind of sock anyone would keep.
“Just pitch it,” Darla said.
Hadley tossed it onto the pitch pile, but a weight in the toe pulled the sock down, falling on the wood floor with a thud. Jagger tore back in from the other room in a heartbeat, picking up the sock and trotting back to Hadley with it.
Hadley took the sock from his mouth, praising him for the save. “There’s something in the toe.” She felt the sock over with her fingers as she walked over to Darla. “It feels like a stone.”
Darla worked the object up the length of the sock. They all waited in suspense as she pulled out something shiny. It caught the light and sparkled so much that Hadley had to blink a few times. It was a vintage ring with a silver filigree band.
Darla’s breath caught. “Wow.”
“That’s beautiful,” Kit said. “And old, with that filigree work around the stone.”
“Is it a diamond?” Hadley looked at the sizable rectangular-cut stone.
“I’d say it’s a Seashell Harbor diamond.” Darla was wide-eyed. “I think you might have found my great-great-grandmother’s ring.”
“Whoa,” Hadley said. “A family heirloom?”
Darla looked completely thrown, which was unusual for her. “I grew up hearing stories about the ring but no one knew what became of it.”
They all knew what Seashell Harbor diamonds were—bits of quartz that had made their way down streams and tributaries in the Catskills, getting polished and hewn as they bumped their way down to the ocean and washed up along the beaches. Local shops had been selling them for as long as Seashell Harbor had been a tourist attraction.
“Is it her wedding ring?” Kit asked.
Darla sat down on the bed, staring at the ring. “It’s not a wedding ring.” She turned it over in her hand. “But there’s a family legend. My great-great-grandmother bought this ring herself—it was pretty cheap then—and pretended to be married so she could buy property at a time when only men could. She became the very first businesswoman in town.”
“What was her business?” Hadley asked. Darla’s mom was a nurse who lived on a quaint little farm just outside of town. This was the first she’d heard of a feisty great-great-anything.
“She bought the Kepler House,” Darla said.
Kit examined the ring. “No way. I’ve always loved that place. It’s got great bones.”
Only Kit would say that. To everyone else, the place was an old, run-down, turreted mansion on the outskirts of town. But then, Kit had inherited an old house that had been in Carson’s family for years that she’d placed on the market because she couldn’t afford to rehab it.
“She escaped a bad marriage but pretended to be a widow and bought the house and turned it into a home for unwed mothers.” The ring caught the sunlight from the windows and cast prisms on the walls as Darla spoke. “She ran classes about childcare and personal finances and helped the young women get jobs and an education. She was a real trailblazer for her time.”
“This gets even more amazing,” Hadley said. “I’m so glad you found it.”
“It’s not that surprising,” Kit said. “You have a lot of her traits, Darla. Courage, going against the grain, speaking out when something’s not right.”
“You make me sound heroic.” Darla gave a little shrug. “All I did was survive cancer treatments.”