He couldn’t help but smile at her reflection. “More than pretty. You’re beautiful.”
Kathleen’s cheeks flushed pink. She stood and brushed off the front of her apron as if to deflect his words. “Trust me, I wasn’t fishing for compliments.” She gave him a wary sideways glance.
“I didn’t think you were.”
Kathleen got up, and they carried on, checking off two old trunks, each of them hinged on one side and secured by leather straps on the other. When Joe had first stumbled upon them, they’d reminded him of the kind that held pirate treasure. “And all this was in the attic?” she marveled. “I can’t wait to see what you bring me from the rest of the house.”
“There’s a lot,” Joe said. “I hope you’ll have enough room.”
Kathleen nodded. “What doesn’t fit here can go in my garage. I can make it work.”
They made their way through the list. Kathleen impressed Joe with her knowledge of antiques, although she claimed to know next to nothing. “I’m still learning. You should have seen my great-aunt. She was a walking encyclopedia. I have to look up most things. She left me these reference books, and I study them whenever I get a chance, but I could go my whole life and not know it all.”
She paused, and her expression became serious. “Now this,” she said. “This is interesting.”
She knelt down in front of a large wooden box, admiring the carving on the top that had only become evident after Joe had cleaned it. Once the grime had been washed away, he was amazed as a two-dimensional image of two birds, a heart between them, came into view. The carving had been so painstakingly done that the feathers were shown in detail. Below the birds, a name had been carved: Alice. As soon as Joe saw the name, he knew it had belonged to Pearl’s older sister, the one who’d died too young. The biggest tragedy of his grandmother’s life.
Kathleen ran her finger over the top and flipped back the lid. “This is gorgeous,” she said. “The craftsmanship is amazing.”
“Is it from some famous manufacturer?”
“No, I don’t think so. If I had to guess, I’d say this is a custom piece. A onetime labor of love.” She looked up at him. “What was inside it?”
“It was full of what looked like junk. Yellowed fabric that I think were tablecloths and napkins, and some candlesticks that are still back at the house. They’re tarnished.”
“Real silver, then. My guess is that this was Alice’s hope chest. Girls used to fill them with things they’d need when they got married and had a household of their own.” She inspected the hinges and the latch, all the while talking. “It was clever the way it was constructed from solid oak and lined with cedar. The cedar was to keep the moths out. And the corners, here?” She pointed at the outside edges. “Dovetail joints. Tricky to do back then. This is one hope chest that was made for the ages. It was most likely built by Alice’s father. I’d heard he was quite the carpenter. Such a sad thing that his daughter didn’t live long enough to use all the things in this beautiful hope chest.”
“How did you know that she died?” Joe asked, astounded.
“Alice Bennett was my aunt Edna’s best friend. She mentioned her several times.”
“My grandmother told me that her sister Alice died too young and that it was a tragedy, but she didn’t want to say any more than that.” Joe remembered the pained look on Pearl’s face during this conversation. “Do you know how Alice died?”
Kathleen closed the lid of the chest. “It was an accident; that’s all I heard. Aunt Edna didn’t go into any details.”
“How old was Alice when it happened?” Joe asked.
“Eighteen or nineteen, I think.”
“Too young.”
“Way too young,” she agreed, sadly shaking her head. “Her whole life ahead of her, and she never got to see it happen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
1983
When Kathleen climbed into bed that night, Joe Arneson was still on her mind. She just couldn’t get over her reaction to him. The second she saw him, there was a lightning bolt of familiarity. It was like watching a movie and seeing a favorite actor unexpectedly enter a scene. Oh, there he is.
There must have been a good reason for the instantaneous, powerful connection that went beyond a physical attraction. It was like her entire being said yes at the sight of him. She was at a loss to explain it. Perhaps he bore a resemblance to someone she knew, a former classmate or a television actor? Or maybe he looked like an adult she’d known as a child but had forgotten about as the years went past? There were only so many combinations of facial features in the world. She’d heard that everyone on the planet had a doppelgänger. The trouble was, Joe didn’t just look or sound familiar. There was more to it than that. She sensed an intimacy that wasn’t appropriate for a complete stranger. When they came face-to-face, she fought the urge to hug him, and it seemed like he was holding back too.
Marcia had a few things to say about it, of course. She wasn’t one to mince words. After Joe left, Marcia said, “Whoa there, Nellie! What was going on between you two?”
Kathleen said, “What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean? I got a D in chemistry in high school, and even I could tell the two of you together were combustible. From the minute you saw each other, it was like some kind of weird sexual tension started up. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, and you—you were being all coy, sneaking glances at him, like you’re shy.” Marcia clutched the front of her chest and spoke in a high-pitched voice. “Joe, my darling, I know we’ve just met, but my loins are on fire, and I must make you mine.”
“Oh, stop.”
But Marcia wasn’t going to let it go. “I had to leave just in case the clothes came off and the two of you went at it. No way I’d want to be a witness to that.” She shuddered. “I’d have to boil my eyeballs afterward.”
“I think you’re making too much of this,” Kathleen said. “I thought he looked familiar. That’s all.” Marcia didn’t contradict her but just smiled smugly as she went about her work.
Lying in bed now, Kathleen could picture Joe with crystal clarity, astounding considering they’d just met. She fell asleep thinking about the way he’d held her gaze while she was describing details of different types of antique furniture. Every time she glanced up, he was nodding and looking at her, not the furniture. As if she were the most fascinating person in the world.
The pieces he’d brought were in excellent shape, with little wear considering their age, and as clean as could be. She found the hope chest particularly pleasing. It wasn’t just lovely to look at, the wood polished to a high sheen. It was knowing (or speculating, really) that the chest had been made for Alice by her loving father. She wished her great-aunt was still alive so she could find out more about the Bennett family. She had so many questions and no one to ask besides Pearl, who struck her as a little testy.
Even with these thoughts crowding her head, sleep came quickly, the way it had ever since she’d arrived in Pullman. The bed was the only item of furniture she’d replaced in the house. She made sure to get a comfortable mattress, and every night she thanked herself for spending the extra money and getting the one she really wanted. Some things were worth the cost. As Kathleen drifted off, she found herself thinking about the hope chest, so painstakingly crafted. The addition of the lovebirds carved on the top added a unique touch. She might, she mused, just buy the hope chest for herself.