Page 4 of The Lake House (Southern Charm #2)

Chapter Four

Rita woke up the next morning feeling a little better.

She rolled out of bed, and after a quick shower, she tugged on a floral dress, then wandered out to the kitchen to make breakfast. She didn’t intend to go into the café this morning.

Cathy and Matilda had it all under control.

She needed the rest and she’d managed to sleep late, which was a pleasant change from her normal routine.

She began by mixing cornmeal pancake batter using a Jiffy box. Then she scrambled some eggs and cooked grits with butter and cream on the stove. Just as she was finishing up, Julie stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing bleary eyes.

Rita laughed. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

Julie yawned and sat on a barstool. “What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock.”

“Wow. I can’t believe I fell back to sleep. I was up half the night.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Julie sighed. “I was thinking about Mom.”

Rita nodded. She understood. Her sister Helen had died about a decade ago from an undiagnosed heart condition when Julie was still too young to lose a mother.

Julie had been a lost, scared and angry fifteen-year-old when she stood by her mother’s grave, all dressed in black and with red-rimmed eyes.

Rita would never forget it. Her heart had broken that day.

“I know she’d want to be here with you, honey. She loved you so much.”

Julie’s eyes filled with tears. They looked hollowed out, as though she’d been crying.

“I can’t help wondering if she knew about Matilda.”

Rita had thought the same thing many times. “It’s no good to worry about it. We’ll never understand exactly what she knew or didn’t know. Or how she felt about it. If she knew, she chose to keep you. Do you realise that?”

Julie’s brow furrowed. “I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”

“Honey, if she knew Matilda was her blood-related child, she chose to keep and raise you rather than get Matilda back. That has to stand for somethin’.”

Julie’s face crumpled, and tears spilled onto her cheeks. “You’re right. It does mean somethin’ to me. Thank you.”

Rita waddled around the counter to hug her niece. “I know you’re dealing with a lot, sweetheart. But you’ll get through this. We both will.”

Rita dished them each a plate of breakfast, then they sat at the small round kitchen table to eat. Rita said grace, and they dug in.

The pancakes were soft and fluffy. The syrup sweetened the salty grits and eggs, and the whole thing together was exactly what Rita needed. She let her eyes drift shut as she chewed a mouthful. “My favourite — corn pancakes. The syrup just sinks right on in.”

“They’re delicious,” Julie agreed. “How are you feelin’ today?”

“Not too bad. Which of course means I’ve got chemo tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to drive you?” Julie asked.

“That would be great, honey. I appreciate it. It’s my last treatment for a little while. They want to give my body some time to recover before I go again.”

“You’re so strong, Auntie Rita. I’m really impressed by how well you’re managin’ all of this. It’s a lot.”

Rita smiled. “Thanks, honey. Have I told you how happy I am that you’re here?”

“Only a few times,” Julie replied with a grin.

“Well, that’s because I mean it. I know this is a big sacrifice, and I didn’t want you to have to pull out of school and take time off from your studies. But I’m super grateful you did.”

Julie pushed a forkful of eggs around on her plate. “I didn’t take time off school just for you. Although I would, because I love you. But I’m feelin’ kinda stuck. I couldn’t focus. I needed a break.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Anything I can help you with?”

“No, there’s nothin’ anyone can do. This whole thing with Matilda has really shaken me up. I don’t know what to do, who I am, or what to believe. It’s like the whole world turned out to be a lie and I can’t trust anyone. I’m in a slump, and I can’t figure how to pull myself out of it.”

“I didn’t know you were feelin’ that way,” Rita said.

She wanted so badly to fix everything for Julie.

She’d raised her like her own daughter since Helen died, and they’d been through so many ups and downs in that time.

The tumult of the teen years had drawn them closer together, if anything.

All she wanted was to protect her from more heartache.

“I didn’t want to bother you with my emotions. You’ve got enough going on in your own life.”

Rita sighed. “I still want to know everything about you. I can multi-task.”

Julie reached for Rita’s hand and squeezed it. “I know you can.”

“There’s a simple way to figure this out — Matilda is living right next door with her new husband. You can call her up, or go over to see her. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to talk about it. It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster ride for her as well.”

Julie released Rita’s hand. “I’m not ready to talk to her about it.”

“You can’t blame her, you know?” Rita said in a soft voice. “It’s not her fault.”

Julie’s eyes flashed. “If she’d stayed in Australia and left us alone, we wouldn’t have known, and we’d be fine.”

“You’d rather not know?” Rita wasn’t sure she could agree. Better to get the truth out into the open than live in ignorance—that had always been her policy.

“Yes, I would rather not know. I was happy. Well, happy enough, anyhow. I missed Mom, but I knew that she’d loved me. That you were my aunt. That Tyler and Sophie were my cousins. That Grandma and Grandpa were… “ She stopped, her voice breaking on the words.

“We’re still your family, honey. That won’t change.”

“You know it’s not the same. It can’t ever be the same again. And it’s all her fault.”

After breakfast, Julie cleaned up while Rita went in search of the key for the locked closet. She wanted to sort through it today, while she felt good. Who knew when she’d be well enough next to manage it?

It took a while to locate the key, but she finally found it in a small, creaky drawer in the antique coatrack by the front door. She unlocked the padlock on the closet and then pulled the door open, heard a bang, and immediately coughed as a cloud of dust enveloped her.

“Gracious! That’s been shut too long,” she muttered to herself.

After foraging in her own closet for a scarf to tie around her mouth, she returned and found the dust had settled. A stack of papers and magazines had fallen from the top of a filing cabinet to the floor, causing the commotion.

The closet was bigger than she’d remembered.

She could walk all the way into it. There were shelves on either side and at the back, and every shelf was packed to the brim with stuff.

Newspapers, magazines, paperwork, trinkets, books, albums, bags of clothing and a multitude of other things she’d have to dig through.

She found a chair in the den and pulled it into the closet.

Then she sat down to weed through the piles of junk.

Why had her parents filled this thing up and then locked it?

Why hadn’t she ever thought to clean it out?

She hadn’t wanted to disrupt what they’d stored away.

She’d been busy, and truthfully, wasn’t sure she’d be able to face it.

But it seemed that having to look her own mortality in the eyes had given her a new stoicism.

She wanted to reminisce over old photos and didn’t find it hurtful any longer to see pictures of her parents.

Enough time had passed, and she wasn’t sure how many more years she’d have on this earth to share with loved ones even if memories were all she had of them.

There was a rocking horse stashed in the corner that she’d rocked on as a child and then her own children had as well.

She’d thought her mother had gotten rid of it, but there it stood.

A little worse for wear, but otherwise the same, with its green saddle and black mane.

There was a photograph in a frame leaning against the shelves at the back of the space.

Rita lumbered over to pick it up and dusted it off with a handkerchief from her pocket.

There were her parents, squinting through the sunlight to smile at the camera.

They stood on the dock, with Dad’s beloved boat floating in the water behind them.

Those were happy times. She smiled to herself, her throat tightening a little as memories washed over her.

Behind where the frame had sat was a large filing box.

It was just as dusty as the frame. She tugged her chair closer and sat down, then pulled it towards herself.

It was heavy, but not too bad. The lid was stuck, so it took a bit of work to get it free.

Inside, she found several photo albums, and piles of letters tied together with white ribbon that had aged to a yellow colour.

She flicked through the envelopes with one finger, noting that they were from her parents to one another, or her grandmother and aunt to her father.

The dates stamped on the outside of the envelopes suggested the letters had been written over many years, some from before they were married and some after.

She was excited to read through them, but not now.

Now she had to sort this entire room. And she wasn’t sure how long her energy would last, so she’d better get going.