Keeping Christmas - By B. J. Daniels Page 0,49
her mother given that her mother’s real name apparently wasn’t Sarah, but Elizabeth Sarah Worth and she was born in Idaho—not Texas.
Glendora returned with a rubber-banded shoe box. She set it on the coffee table in front of the couch. “There might be something in here. I’ve moved so much, a lot of things have been lost over the years.”
Dixie slipped off the rubber band and lifted the lid on the shoe box as Glendora joined her on the couch again.
The box was filled with black-and-white photos, the edges rough, the paper yellowed and curled.
She looked up at Chance, then with trembling fingers reached into the box and began to go through the photos.
Glendora couldn’t remember most of the names of the people in the snapshots. “It’s been too long,” she said.
Dixie looked for a face that resembled her own, given that she’d been told she looked like her mother. The deeper she dug in the box, though, the more disappointed she became. Most of the photographs, it turned out, were from Glendora’s first husband’s family.
“You’re so lucky to have a sister,” Glendora said. “I wished my sister and I could have stayed together.”
Dixie nodded, feeling guilty since she and Rebecca had never been close even though they now lived only a few miles from each other. “Would you like me to send you some photographs? Rebecca has three children.”
Glendora smiled, her eyes misty. “I would love that.”
Dixie picked up a photograph of a cute little girl with long blond hair making a face at the camera.
“That’s Amelia,” Glendora said, and reached for the photograph, smiling as she studied the girl’s face.
“Amelia?”
“Amelia Hardaway. She married the oldest McCarthy boy.” Glendora fell silent and Dixie could see that all this was tiring her. She quickly dug through the rest of the photographs, holding out little hope any of her mother had survived.
Glendora was still clutching the photo of the little girl. “Amelia was your mother’s best friend. Those two…” she said, as if lost in the past. “They were inseparable.”
Dixie could feel Chance’s gaze on her. “Is Amelia still around?”
“I got a Christmas card. Was it this year or last?” She frowned as if trying to remember. “She didn’t get far from home. Still lives on the farm outside of Ashton. Or she did. I think she said her husband died.”
Dixie turned one of the last photographs over and froze. It was of two young girls, one about eleven, the other in her late teens.
Her heart took off in a gallop as she stared into the face of the younger girl. She felt Chance’s palm on her back and looked up, and realized she must have made a sound that brought him to the end of the couch next to her.
She showed the snapshot to Glendora, not wanting to let go of it. “Is that you and my mother?”
Glendora smiled and nodded, eyes misting over. “My baby sister.”
Dixie quickly looked through the few remaining photographs, finding only one other one of her mother. In it, both girls were older. Glendora was standing next to a bus, a suitcase at her feet. Beside Glendora was her younger sister holding a baby and next to Dixie’s mother was a man wearing a fedora, his face in shadow and turned away from the camera as if he didn’t want his photo taken.
“That was the day I left home,” Glendora said, leaning in to look at the snapshot. “My aunt took the photo of all of us. It was the last time I saw Elizabeth and Rebecca. Our aunt died a few years later, but Elizabeth didn’t come back for the funeral.”
Dixie stared at the photo, running her finger over her mother’s face. There was definitely a resemblance between her and her mother at this age. She could understand now why sometimes she caught her father looking at her with such a sad expression.
“Who is the man standing next to my mother?” Dixie asked.
Glendora looked up at her in surprise. “Why that’s your father. He was a lot younger then, but that’s him, all right. Beauregard Bonner. Like I could ever forget that name.”
Dixie stared at the man in the photo. It was definitely not Beauregard Bonner.
Chapter Twelve
Chance felt as shaken as Dixie looked as they left Glendora’s apartment. “You all right?” he asked once they were outside.
Dixie nodded, seemingly afraid to trust her voice. He watched her breathe in the cold air, taking huge gulps.
He knew that everything was finally starting to catch up