She reached for her wallet, seeing her wrinkled hand, and wondered exactly when she’d become so old. Had it really been so long since she’d been young and vibrant, like the girl standing beside her? Clearly it had.
She handed the girl a twenty-dollar bill, and when the waitress asked if she’d like change, the woman shook her head, happy to give the tip. The food had been okay, but what she’d learned had been priceless. Something inside her was pressing for her to look out the window again, to see the other girl inside the car, but she refused it.
“Not yet,” she said as she slipped her wallet into her purse.
_______________
The diner door opened, and Isabelle waved at Taylor before hopping into the backseat behind her.
“Thanks for picking me up. Saves me having to wait for my mom to come get me. God, I wish I had a car,” Isabelle said. “What’s this?” she asked, sliding the old box across the faux leather.
“We found it in your mom’s old house,” Brent answered.
“Seriously? Why the hell would you go there?” Isabelle asked.
Taylor didn’t say the whole story. “Because my dad thought Grandma might have left something hidden behind. Apparently, she did.”
“What’s in it?” Isabelle asked, flipping through the journal. Dust flew off the pages as she did so, causing Isabelle to sneeze suddenly.
“Just leave it until we’re in your house, Isabelle,” Taylor said, and her younger cousin obeyed, setting it down where she found it and sniffling in reply.
“How do I get there?” Brent asked, and Taylor laughed.
“That might help. I don’t remember. Izzy?”
Isabelle directed them, and five minutes later, they were parked in front of the old house. Taylor had spent some time looking over the maps of Red Creek, and this neighborhood was one of the first to develop. This particular street had been created in the late forties, and the house showed its age. Her uncle had put some elbow grease into it, because the yard was in good shape; the fence was erect, looking freshly painted, especially when compared to the other homes surrounding it.
“Mom is so thrilled you’re coming to visit.” Isabelle got out, and Brent turned to Taylor before she opened her door.
“I meant it. I’m in with you, Tay.” He leaned over, and she let him kiss her.
“Thanks,” she whispered before getting out. Brent had the box in his arms and passed it to her before grabbing their bags.
Her uncle’s truck was in the driveway, and Taylor already saw the flashing of the TV in the otherwise dark living room. The sun still had a way to go before setting, but with the heavy cloud cover, it felt like midnight as Taylor took the long steps toward the front door.
Her uncle’s form moved behind the living room curtains toward the entrance, and she had the sudden thought that it wasn’t him inside. It was it, waiting for her in the dark house. She stopped, and Brent bumped into her.
The door swung open, and her uncle Darrel stood there, arms wide and smiling. “If it isn’t my long-lost niece, finally paying an overdue visit. Get over here.”
Darrel had always been nice to her. Isabelle swore he was the world’s best dad, or at least the best intentioned. He didn’t have a lot to offer her financially, but he treated her like gold, and that went a long way in some daughters’ books.
Taylor went up the three steps and set the box down inside, hoping he wouldn’t snoop in it. She gave him a big hug, careful not to hurt his sore midsection. He’d gotten injured at work a year or so ago, and he’d had a rough stretch ever since.
“It’s so good to see you.” Darrel held her at arm’s length now, appraising her. “You’re such a beautiful girl. You look just like your mom.” Darrel was usually nice, but he was extra jovial tonight. He looked older than the last time they’d seen each other: his hair grayer, the bags under his eyes heavier. There was a sadness in his eyes he didn’t have before too, and Taylor felt the urge to hug him again.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“I just missed you guys, that’s all,” she said, letting him go.
Brent cleared his throat behind them. “Sorry,” Taylor said. “Uncle Darrel, this is Brent. My boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend, huh? Does your dad know about this?” Darrel asked.
Taylor shook her head, suddenly feeling guilty that her uncle knew about Brent when her own parents didn’t. Why had she kept him a secret for so long? “I’m going to introduce them soon,” was all she said, and he nodded.
Her uncle shook Brent’s hand. “Good to meet you, son.”
“Likewise. Thanks for letting us stay here. I didn’t see a hotel,” Brent said.
“Oh, there are two, actually, but you don’t want to see inside any of those rooms. Not quite up to Bellton standards, anyway.” Darrel stepped aside, and they entered the home, with Isabelle in the rear.
“Dad, don’t,” Isabelle said in hushed tones. “Leave the school stuff out of it, okay?”
Taylor knew her dad had offered to give a good word for Isabelle to get into a prestigious school, and had gone as far as to suggest he’d be willing to pay for it too. Like many red-blooded working men, Darrel took this as an insult to his manhood and fatherhood and had outright refused.
Over the months, her aunt claimed she’d whittled her husband down, because they’d never be able to afford to send their daughter there without the help. As far as Taylor was aware, there had been no further conversations on the matter between Darrel and her dad. She knew when the time came, Isabelle would be taken care of.
