Did you want to start the series from the beginning? The Letter: Part 1
Susan was already waiting for Barb at the car when she got there. “C’mon, c’mon!” Susan said.
“What is your hurry?” she said, laughing.
“I don’t want to get caught,” Susan said, as they got into the car.
“We didn’t do anything wrong. Now come on, open it.”
Susan shook her head, clutching the box in her lap. “No, drive. Let’s get out here.”
Barb laughed, shaking her head. “You always were a bit of a fuddy-duddy.”
Susan glared at her, but didn’t say anything.
They drove to a nearby coffee shop. After driving through the drive-thru for coffees, they sat in the parking lot and opened the box.
Susan opened the lid and they peered inside. Barb reached over and pulled out an old, yellowing photo of a woman and man in their mid-to-late thirties in a wedding dress and suit. The were posing for the camera, smiling. Her arm was slid into the crock of his.
Barb flipped the photo over and on the back it read, “Ernest and Alice – 1952.”
“Who are they?” Susan asked.
Barb shrugged. “I’m guessing it was his grave we were at, and that must have been his wife. But I don’t know who they are. Was there anything else in the box?”
Susan pulled out a piece of newsprint. “Just this.” She read out part of it: “Ernest Timothy Tremblay died on March 15, 1993 at the age of 79. Survived by his loving wife Lilly; daughter Sharon (Bill); son Tom (Mary); 5 grandchildren: Kaden, Ethan, Madison, Michael, and Jamie. He is predeceased by his two sisters; Louise and Janet.”
“But who is he?” Barb asked.
Susan sighed. “No idea. I told you Victor wasn’t in his right mind at the end.”
Disappointed, they drove back to the ferry.
* * *
“How was the trip?” Sam asked as they walked through the door. He kissed Susan on the cheek as she passed him into the kitchen.
“Uneventful, but good to get away from packing for a bit.” She set her purse on the counter.
“What is that?” he asked, looking at the top of the wedding photo that was sticking out of her purse.
“Um,” she stalled, not sure how to explain how they came across the photo. She had remembered too late that she hadn’t told him yet that Barb had taken his father’s letter.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, yanking the photo out to get a better look? “What is this?” he asked, his face going red.
“I don’t know now. Barb and I found it. It’s nothing. We don’t know who they are.”
He pointed at the woman. “That’s my mother.”
“What?” she asked, startled.
“Why is she with this man?” he asked, glaring at her.