Lauren and Scarlett burst into the kitchen, still high from the thrill of the track. They found Shane standing in front of the counter with a look of displeasure on his face.
“Were we too loud?” Lauren asked, hoping he hadn’t truly returned to his Mr. Grump ways.
He shook his head and pointed to the opened box on the counter.
Lauren followed his gaze, spying a rectangular box by the knife block. “Did you get a package? What is it? Why are you so upset?”
“Not me. You.”
“You opened her mail?” Scarlett asked, placing a mittened hand on each hip. “That’s kind of illegal, right?”
“I was expecting a package from Amazon, and when I saw the smile logo, I thought it was mine. I didn’t realize until I had already…” He lifted his eyes from the box and moved them over to Lauren without blinking. “You need to see this.”
Lauren stepped toward Shane. If this was his reaction to the box’s contents she wasn’t sure she even wanted to know what was inside.
“Go on,” Scarlett nudged her. “I’ve been hanging onto that thing for weeks. I’d love to know what’s inside.”
Lauren’s hands shook, which was ridiculous. Why would a stupid box from back home make her so nervous? And why did Shane look as if he’d seen a ghost?
She placed a hand on the counter to steady herself, then looked inside. On top lay a folded pink afghan, which she carefully lifted up and held to her cheek.
Soft, familiar… and altogether confusing.
Next she found an old teddy bear with big, exaggerated lips, blonde hair, and a little white dress. She knew this bear. It had been hers years ago, and she’d called it Lola.
A folded letter lay on the bottom with two glossy photographs. The first matched one of the many photos in her memory box. It showed her as a toddler, sitting on her mother’s lap. They both wore matching purple polka-dot dresses. Her mother’s hair was teased high into the air, and Lauren’s little curly wisps were held back with a delicate lace headband. It was the last picture she’d ever taken with her mother, which made it special to her.
But how had somebody else gotten ahold of it, and why would they go to the trouble of sending it to her?
She glanced at the return address on the box, but it was from her friend Helen in New York, who’d simply forwarded the package on to Alaska.
“Look at the other picture,” Shane said gently, coming up beside her and lacing his fingers through hers. Scarlett joined her on the other side and put an arm around Lauren’s shoulders. Whatever was in this box would likely change her life, but she had two great friends to help her face whatever came next.
She took a deep breath and reached for the other photo.
In it an older woman with Lauren’s same wavy brown hair smiled at the camera from atop the Empire State Building. Wind whipped her hair and caused her to squint, but Lauren recognized those brown eyes. She had always bemoaned the fact that she hadn’t inherited her father’s intense green eyes… because she’d gotten brown ones from her mother.
From this woman.
“I don’t understand,” Shane said from beside her. “You told me your mother died when you were little.”
Lauren gulped. “She did. At least, I thought she did.”
“Read the letter,” Scarlett said. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
Lauren dropped the photos back into the box and covered them up with Lola the bear and the old afghan. “I can’t,” she whispered. It was the only way to make sure she didn’t scream in that moment. “I can’t handle this right now.” A sob wracked through her body and both her friends wrapped her into a tight group hug.
“You don’t have to until you’re ready,” Scarlett assured her.
“You don’t have to ever,” Shane corrected. “We can set it on fire. We can make it go away.”
“No,” Lauren mumbled into his shirt collar. “I want to know why, but I need some time before I’m ready to find out the truth.”
“Should we have some stew and talk about other things?” Scarlett offered.
“Yes, please,” Lauren answered with a sniff. She looked back at the box one last time before Shane moved it out of sight.
She didn’t know how to feel. On the one hand, maybe it would have been better if the post office had lost this box on one of its many trips. On the other, she had a mother now. Growing up, she’d always wished her mother had been alive, and now she was—alive, aged, and reaching out to her for some reason.
Maybe once she had some dinner in her belly, she’d have the strength she needed to take the next step.