Tomorrow's Sun (Lost Sanctuary) - By Becky Melby Page 0,25
do, the sooner you’re here.” A siren wailed. Cara waited it out. “But you know you don’t have to have a suitcase of money before you show up. That room’s just sitting there empty. Well, not exactly empty—I’ve been working on decorating it. It’s totally you. Totally Toji.”
A silent groan deflated Emily’s lungs. Their trip to Japan three years ago had transformed the way she dressed, wore her hair, and decorated her apartment. The Japanese symbol for “Live Strong” emblazoned the front of the shirt she’d worn under her jacket the day of the accident. But cherry blossoms, warm sake, and the Toji Temple belonged in the scrapbooks Cara had mentioned. “Sounds”—a reflexive swallow threatened to betray her—“beautiful. It won’t be anytime soon, you know.”
“Yeah. Says you.”
Yeah. Says me. Emily swallowed sarcasm with a mouthful of coffee. “Did you and Luke check over this place before you”—practically gave me your inheritance out of pity—“sold it to me?”
“Nah. Neither of us could get away. Mom and Dad and my grandma were there in February. They took a few things and hired the auction people. Is there a problem? I mean, I know there are problems with the place, but is there something you didn’t expect?”
I didn’t expect mysterious letters or a hidden room or an iron cross or a little boy in a striped shirt. “Well, yes. There were a few things left here.”
Cara groaned. “I was afraid of that. Listen, just hire somebody to cart it out and send me the bill.”
Emily cringed. “I found a tin box with a bunch of toys.” She balanced the truck on her knee. “Marbles and stuff, like a little boy’s collection. It all looks old enough that it could have belonged to your great-grandfather.”
“Huh. Well, just toss it or give it to some little kid. Knowing you, you’ve already met all the kids in the neighborhood.”
Knowing you. The air through the window turned strangely cold. “I’ve met a couple. Um, what do you know about the things in the attic?”
A carefree laugh glided on airwaves from Highway 1. “I didn’t even know there was an attic! Sorry I’m not much help. Luke and I were actually baffled that she’d left it to us. Other than that summer with you, I’d only been there a few other times. She was my grandma’s mom, you know. That’s kind of distant.”
“I guess.”
“So whatever you found, it’s all yours to keep or dump. Hey, I have to make a couple calls for work. Can I call again tomorrow? I need some guy advice.”
This time, the sarcasm wouldn’t fit down her throat. “Sure. Call me. I’m the go-to girl on relationships.”
“Don’t be like that. The past is past. Isn’t that what your counselor said? You learned from the Keith mistake and that makes you an expert.”
“Right. Expert.”
“Stop that! Forget I ever brought him up and go have an awesome day. What are you doing today anyway?”
“Shopping for bedroom furniture.”
“See? You’re headed in the right direction. But don’t get serious about anyone, okay? I’m scoping out the possibilities here. Love you!” With another airy California laugh, she said good-bye.
It was much cooler in the barn than in the gravel drive where she’d parked the van. Emily unrolled the thin sleeves of her blouse as she followed Tina Palin around long tables filled with linens, glassware, and knickknacks.
“Do you need a bed?”
“No. I’ve got that covered.” No need to explain that she’d already bought a mattress—only a mattress, as the closer she was to the ground in the morning, the better.
“Over here’s the air conditioner. It’s kind of massive. Does it look like it’ll fit?”
Calculating the weight of the behemoth partially hidden by a tarp, Emily nodded. “It’ll be perfect.” She envisioned Jake fighting it up the folding stairs he’d just installed.
“Good.” Tina bent over and shoved a stack of flowerpots out of the way. “I should send all these with you to give to Jake. Have you met his brother-in-law? Now there’s a piece of work. A friend of ours just closed her greenhouse and Ben Madsen bought, like, two hundred flowerpots from her. Weird guy.” She pulled the tarp away.
“Don’t you try moving that.”
With a laugh that bounced from the empty stanchions on one side to the hay hook swinging overhead, Tina shrugged. “I won’t. I’ll have Colt, my hubby, load it all in his truck and bring it to you. Though I probably could do it. I hayed the whole season I was pregnant with my first.”