Page 48

Red, white, and blue balloons wafted in a gentle wind as I tied them to a white sandwich board that read grand reopening , which we’d borrowed from a shoe store up the street.

Nervous energy humming, I flipped the sign on the front door to open and waited for the parade of customers.

A half-dozen patrons showed up the first hour, not a grand start by anyone’s standards.

And so, armed with a plate of cookies, I headed out into the street to stir up business.

A glance toward Gordon’s shop told me he was open, and wanting to stay positive, I turned the other way to greet potential customers.

Several times the temptation to turn and look in his direction was strong, but I held fast, though several times the hair on the back of my neck rose and I imagined his gaze on me.

Instead of turning, I kept smiling and walking away, unable to endure the rejection vibrating from every muscle in his body.

By ten, the trickle of customers had grown stronger, and by eleven we had a line in front of the display case.

Word had also spread about the frozen dough, and we’d sold four orders.

As the cash register dinged with each new purchase, I imagined the debt on our books shrinking. Life was looking up ... a little.

Finally, at three, I locked the front door and flipped the open sign to closed . Our first day back open had been a hit. We might survive. Rachel grinned. “We survived the renovation and the reopening.”

“I told you we would.”

She laughed. “Yeah, you did.”

“I’m smarter than I look.”

Meg and Tim carried the remaining cookies back behind the swinging doors. They’d been great. Tim had remained in the back, carefully restocking trays, and Meg had been on the register, smiling brightly at customers while Rachel and I took orders. We’d been a good team today.

As Meg reached for an empty tray of sugar cookies, I thought about Joey.

On and off all day and most of last night, I’d worried about him alone in his room.

I suspected he’d been on his own for a long time, but that didn’t make it right.

The young man in the picture had been so full of promise.

And he’d ended up alone in a corner room with no pictures and a crappy view of a privacy fence.

After we cleaned the cases and swept the floors, Meg and Tim said their goodbyes, Rachel vanished upstairs, and I boxed up a healthy dose of maple cookies and headed to see Joey.

I first called the retirement home and let the nurse know I was coming.

She promised to pass the message on to Joey, who was currently napping.

Saturday traffic on the beltway was heavy, so it was past four when I parked in front of the retirement home. The receptionist was at her post, but I was ready for her this time. I handed her a box of assorted cookies for her, and she beamed and sent me to Joey’s room.

I found Joey sitting in his well-worn chair, a box resting in his lap. His eyes brightened when he saw me, and he sat a little straighter. I closed the door, reaching into my backpack as I crossed the room to him. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out a pink Union Street Bakery box.

“You brought cookies,” he said.

“Not cookies, but Jenna’s cookies. I told you we found her recipe box.”

He took the box and inspected it as if it were a great treasure.

“I used to love her cookies.” He bit into one and closed his eyes, savoring not just the flavors but also the memories they evoked.

I could see him traveling back in time to Old Town Alexandria.

He would have been wearing his marine uniform, sporting his cap, and walking with a spring in his step. “It’s delicious.”

“I made you a couple of dozen and wrapped them in small packages in case you have to hide them from the gatekeeper.”

His grin turned devilish. “She’s never admitted to it, but I know she searches my room. She never takes nothing. She just moves my things a little. I’m old, but I know when my stuff has been touched.”

He’d been a warrior, and he couldn’t count on privacy in his own room. “We’ll hide these all over the room before I leave.”

“It’s a date, doll.” He offered me a cookie, and I took it. One bite and I relaxed.

“Not bad.”

“You couldn’t miss one of Jenna’s recipes. She had an angel’s touch when it came to baking.”

I glanced at the box in his lap, wanting to ask but deciding this was his to share and he would explain when ready. “We reopened the bakery today. It was crazy but busy, and busy is good.”

“You’re a smart gal. I can see that. And I bet no one can resist you.”

I laughed. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

“So did you make good money?”

“Not bad. Made about a thousand dollars today, which will put a dent in the debt we racked up while we were closed.” I’d not spoken about the debt to anyone. Candid talk about the bakery business stressed out Rachel and Dad, so more and more I kept details to myself. It was good to speak openly.

“You’ll make it work.”

“I hope.”

“Hope isn’t part of the equation. It’s hard work, elbow grease, and know-how that gets the job done. You’re a go-getter, and you don’t shy from work, I can tell. You’ll make it happen.”

His confidence bolstered my spirits, and nervous laughter bubbled inside of me. “I sure hope you’re right. There’s a lot riding on the bakery.”

He smoothed his hand over the box. “You haven’t asked about the box.”

My gaze flickered quickly over it. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me.”

“I almost gave it to you yesterday but then decided to think on it. Parting with the Bible was hard enough.”

“It’s in a safe place. And my sister is working to find Jenna’s child. She can find anyone. She found you.”

Through thick glasses his eyes twinkled. “Did she?”

“She’s like a ninja historian. She’ll find Jenna’s family.” I nodded. “What’s in the box, Gunny?”

With a trembling hand he removed the top. “These are Jenna’s letters to Walter.”

A rush of cool air brushed up my spine. “What?”

“They were in his effects. They’d meant so much to Walter, and I couldn’t let them go. Made me feel like I had them both with me. I figured I’d give them to her in person, like the Bible, but, well, you know the rest.”

“Did you read them?”

“I wasn’t going to at first, but in the days after Walter’s death, I was low.

Didn’t see much reason to go on. And so I read the first letter.

Didn’t sit right at first, but then the more I read, the closer they were to me, and the easier it was to pretend she was writing to me.

She had a way of speaking that made me feel at home.

I read them all except the last. Came after Walter was killed, and it didn’t seem right to read what he couldn’t. ”

“What was she like?”

“The nicest girl. But strong. She worked hard and said one day she wanted to own her own business.” His gaze seemed to go out of focus as he seemed to fall back in time. “She had a wicked sense of humor, and she loved to dance.”

He held a yellowed envelope in his hand. Jenna’s handwriting, reminiscent of the recipe cards, was bold and clear, and her lines were straight, as if she’d put great care into addressing it. “Did she tell Walter about the baby in her letters?”

“Not in the ones I read. But she was always telling him not to worry about her. The folks at the bakery were standing good to her, and she’d wait for him as long as it took.

” A half smile tugged his lips. “She was smart not to tell him. He’d have worried.

He’d have wanted his baby to have his name, but with thousands of miles between him and Jenna, there was no fixing the problem.

She knew that, and that’s why she kept quiet.

Every time he wrote her, he asked her to marry him. ”

“And then he died.”

He nodded. “Walter was like a brother to me. I know he went to his grave kicking and screaming. He wasn’t so worried about himself but Jenna.

” He shook his head. “She was like him. She’d have fought for her life even after losing Walter for the baby’s sake.

Would have taken a force of nature to drag her away from this world. ”

I thought of my own baby and the anguish I would feel if I were forced to leave her behind. I sat straighter, not wanting to travel that dark path. “I don’t know why she put the recipe box, picture, and his dog tags in the wall.”

“Maybe she had a sense something was going to happen. If she left a piece of her and Walter behind, then she figured they’d never be forgotten.” He smiled at me. “And she was right.”

“How could she have known?”

“Walter said he thought she might have had the Sight. She seemed to know when events were going to happen.”

That could explain the odd energy in the bakery. Jenna hadn’t really left. She’d stuck around. Waiting.

Joey glanced at the letters and then nodded. “Seeing as she sent you to me, I think you should have these letters.”

“You really think Jenna sent me to you?”

“I know she did. You didn’t find me on your own. She sent you.”

My skin tingled. “How can you say that?”

“When you get close to death, the line between the living and dead thins. You see things.”

“Like Jenna?”

He grunted and met my gaze direct. “It isn’t like she strolls in here and we have conversations.”

“No. No, of course not.” I smoothed my hand over the letters. “Kind of like a whisper. A feeling.”

He nodded. “Yeah. And I feel her presence. Began weeks ago. I wasn’t sure why I thought so much about Jenna and Walter. But they’ve been on my mind.”

“I keep sensing I need to find him . Do you suppose you are that him?”

“No. She liked me well enough, but she loved Walter, and she’d have loved their baby. Knowing Jenna, she’d want you to find her kid.”

I glanced back toward the door, hoping no one was close to hear me. “What about Walter? Have you, well, heard a word from him?” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.