“And feed thatpoor boy downstairs, would ya?” she added as she exited mybedroom.
I couldn’tsuppress the groan that climbedout of my gut. I’d forgotten about John. The eager beaver, readyand waiting to help me tie my shoes and lift my spoon. But thethought quickly turned into an idea.
If he wantedto help, I knew the perfect job for him.
ChapterFour
“So, what is it exactly that I’m looking for?” Johnasked as he handed me another ancient parchment to add to thegrowing pile. He’d been so eager to help that when I asked him, hedidn’t even let me finish speaking. Just stopped preparing food forme and hopped on it like anobedient boy scout.
“I told you,”I answered, already annoyed with him, and pointed to the chalkboardon the wall. “Anything that has those names, objects, or places onit.”
The listconsisted of the possible names Henry, Finn, Gus, and Charlie wouldhave gone by, Cupers Cove beforeit was known as Cupid’s, The Cobhams, plus the names of two ships;The Devil’s Heart and The Burning Ghost. We’d found numerous thingsthat mentioned The Cobhams, but mostly historical documents thattold the earlier stories of her piracy; hide outs, conquests, herties back to England, etc. Nothing about her whereaboutspost-1707.
“Okay,” Johnreplied, still unsure, “And why are we doing this?”
I didn’t evenbother to look up from the document I was reading. “Because it’simportant that I know what happened to those people.”
He openedanother box and began rifling through its contents. “Are theyancestors of yours, or something?”
“You could saythat.”
“Those soundlike pirate ship names,” he continued. “Were your ancestors pirates?”
I finishedanother document and added it to the discard pile. “No,” I shook myhead, “I mean, yes. Sort of.”
“So, why doyou suddenly need to find out what happened to them?”
I grabbed thelast box and slammed it down on the table, the force sending a boltof pain up through my shoulder. “Jesus, John. Enough with thequestions! Just help me or get out.”
He coiledback, stunned, his feelings clearly hurt. I immediately felt atinge of regret, but I smashed it down, refusing to feel bad forthe man who’d cheated on me. It may have felt like a lifetime ago,but hardly a month had passed since that fateful text camethrough.
“I’m sorry,”he said quietly, “I’ll shut up.”
He turned hisback to me and continued reading an old book he’d found among themess. I just stood there and stared at him, unable to trulysquashed the anger I harbored for him. There was something to besaid about second chances, wasn’t there? It’s what my mother wouldhave done. John was here, had been here in my absence, helping.Doing what he could. And now, here he remained, eager to makeamends.
I stole aglance at the clock on the wall. “Hey, we’ve been at this allafternoon,” I told him. “Let’s take a break and head to my aunt’sfor supper.”
He turned toface me, excited and hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Sure, whynot?” I replied and grabbed my jacket, giving him a quick grin as Icarefully slipped it on. “She told me to feed you, anyway.”
***
Mary was fartoo delighted to have us show up at her door. I sat at her massiveoak table with its miss-matched chairs and fiddled with the quirkytrinkets on the ledge next to me. She scuttled around the kitchen,tending to the stove, slicing some homemade bread, grabbing dishesfrom the cupboards.
“Here,” Johnsaid and jumped up from his chair, “Let me set the table,Mary.”
He grabbed theold-fashioned, amber-colored glass plates from her hands and placedthem on the table before going back and fetching some silverware.He maneuvered around so comfortably, and I had to remind myselfthat he’d been there the whole time I was gone. He looked more athome at my aunt’s than I did.
We sat aroundand ate seven-layer dinner until our bellies couldn’t hold anotherbite. Mary told crude jokes and John turned red in the face fromlaughing at her. It didn’t take long for me to melt into thecomfortable scene and join in on the laughter. It was hard to beanything but happy around Mary.
“So, what didyou two do all afternoon?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea.
My eyesflitted to John’s, trying to warn him not to say anything, but whatwould he know? He had no idea the connection my aunt wouldmake.
“We were goingthrough stuff in Dianna’s mom’s office.”
Mary quirkedan eyebrow in my direction. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” Johncontinued, “She’s trying to find something to do with her ancestorsand some pirate ships.”
Mary turnedher full attention to me. “What exactly are you looking for,Dianna?” she asked, challenging me.
“I just wantedto know more about Mom’s side of the family,” I told her with ashrug. “When I was in the hospital, the doctors were prodding mewith questions about my family’s medical history, and I only reallyknew dad’s. It just sparked a curiosity, that’s all.”
I lookedat John and his brow furrowed inconfusion. “Then, why are you looking back so far?” he asked. “Themedical history of your three-hundred-year-old ancestors wouldn’treally matter that much, would it?” then he added, “Man, would theyeven have records like that back then?”
I cringed andslouched down into my chair.
“No,” Maryreplied and sipped her tea, her accusing eyes searching my face,“they wouldn’t.”
John stood andbegan collecting the empty dishes, the silent fight between my auntand I completely washing over his head. “Well, wouldn’t matter,anyway. We didn’t find what she was looking for.” He turnedthen and headed toward thebathroom.
I found itstrange that John’s words seemed to make Mary relax. “Well, I stillhave one more box,” I told her.
“And if youdon’t find what you’re looking for?” Mary asked. A tinge of sadness in her voice.
I realizedthen, what she was worried about. Everything I was doing, lookingthrough my mother’s things like a madwoman, searching forsomething… it’s exactly what my dad had been doing in his finaldays. Mary must have watched himdescend into madness, trying to find answers, trying tofind… my mother.
My eyesglossed over with tears, but I forced them down and looked away. “Idon’t know,” I replied quietly, “But I’m not going to find
