Page 71

Leaving the diner’s parking lot, Katherine was overcome by the feeling that her hometown had become unrecognizable. How had so much changed around her without her ever taking the time to notice? From trees planted in the park and a row of benches added alongside the walking path to a mural painted on the side of the community center and the opening of a new bakery. Even the old street clock had been updated with a fresh coat of paint.

Life was going on all around her, and she’d been missing it.

After arriving home, she did a quick cleanup and checked the refrigerator for everything she needed to make a nice dinner. Then she went upstairs to change her clothes. She wanted tolook her best when Matthew and Libby came over, but as she looked through the long-forgotten clothes on the colorful side of her closet, she uncovered the hope chest her parents had given her on her sixteenth birthday.

After losing Addison, Katherine filled the wooden chest with as many keepsakes as she could and pushed it to the back of her closet. Then everything else from the nursery had been given away. Some things went to the church’s clothing bank, and the rest to a local outreach that helped young, single mothers feed and clothe their children.

At the time, it was what she had wanted it. With her heart torn in two, she couldn’t imagine moving on without letting go of as many reminders as possible. Because the reality that they represented was far too painful.

“It’s alright to keep Addison’s things,” her mother had told her the day she packed everything from the nursery into bags and boxes.

Of course, Ginny Bennett didn’t know her daughter had already tucked away the most precious keepsakes. And Katherine wasn’t about to tell her because it would only lead to another conversation about Max since using the chest to hide away items of Addison’s meant she had to remove all the things she’d kept from her courtship with Max.

Prom pictures, movie ticket stubs, and pressed flowers were just a few of the items Katherine had saved to share with Addison, so that she could see firsthand the treasured reminders from when her mommy and daddy first fell in love.

But when Katherine stopped believing in what she and Max once had, those items no longer held the same meaning, and she tossed them in the trash. Making plenty of space for the precious mementos that reminded her of her little Addy.

“You don’t have to give it all away. You don’t even have to give it away right now. There’s no rule that says you need to rushthrough the grieving process. Why not take your time and let things settle? Then you can decide what needs to go.”

Still, Katherine had adamantly shaken her head against the suggestion, marched down to the laundry room, and brought up another basket of clean clothes. Rummaging through the pile, she separated baby dresses from baby sweaters and baby sweaters from baby underclothes. Folding each item with careful precision, she kept her expression blank as her mother watched.

“There,” she’d said, closing the final bag. “Everything’s ready.”

“Darling,” Ginny had said tenderly. “You know Addison is in God’s hands now, don’t you?”

When Katherine bit down on her quivering lip, that small show of emotion was enough for Mrs. Bennett to grab her and hold on tight.

“Oh, my sweet baby girl, I am so sorry you’re hurting. I truly am. But I still don’t understand why you’re giving everything away.”

“Please stop,” Katherine had begged, extracting herself from her mother’s embrace. “My mind is made up.”

“But you might change your mind.”

After learning that Max had been with another woman on the night of the fire and that he had saved her life to protect his secrets instead of their daughter, Katherine had promptly packed up his belongings and called for a donation truck to pick them up.

Everything of Max’s went. Including his fully restored muscle car. A gift from his parents on his sixteenth birthday and the same car he’d picked her up for their dates in high school. The car they’d driven to their honeymoon. And likely the car he’d used to pick up other women after they were married.

After getting some guidance from her brother-in-law Cameron, Katherine reached out to a seller of classicautomobiles, and they gladly made room for Max’s car in their upcoming auction. When the cranberry red 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS with black racing stripes sold for top dollar, she wrote a sizeable check to the church, then stopped by to drop it in the offering basket the following Sunday.

In the memo line, she wrote Hebrews 13:4.

Back then, Katherine’s personal checks still had her and Max’s names printed across the top, but she didn’t care. And it seemed neither did the church. When no one at Hope Community mentioned the verse on the bottom of the check, and it cleared the bank, Katherine considered it just one more thing off her to-do list.

“We can’t know for sure if Max was really having an affair.”

“Wecanknow. And we do. Evidence is evidence. And there was plenty of evidence against him,” Katherine had insisted, growing weary of the conversation. “You can read the report yourself.”

“I have no reason to ever read a police report. Especially that one.”

At the time, Katherine felt sorry for her mother. On the surface, Ginny Bennett had been trying to make sense of everything, yet Katherine could tell that under that demure exterior burned an anger not even Jerome Bennett knew his wife was capable of.

“Please consider keeping at least a few of Addy’s things. I promise you won’t regret it.” Ginny had insisted one last time, yet Katherine needed her mother to believe everything had to go.

And even though Katherine never told anyone that she’d already filled the hope chest with precious memories of Addison, she was so glad she had. Because when she saw it sitting in the back of her closet, she couldn’t wait to open it. She wanted to see and hold all the little reminders of the greatest love she’d ever known.

Lifting the lid with trembling hands, Katherine immediately saw Addison’s first blankie, and it made her smile. Holding it next to her heart with one hand, she searched through the wooden box with the other. Soon, an envelope of pictures, tiny newborn booties, a preemie-size onesie, mother-baby hospital identification bands, a butterfly pacifier, and dozens of other objects were laid out across the floor.

Lost in memories and the joy that was Addison Rebecca Chandler, Katherine cried happy tears, laughed at funny baby pictures, held objects she’d forgotten she tucked away, and allowed herself to feel the irreplaceable love her child had brought into her life.