“I wonder who did that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not surprised. People on Belle Island take care of one another.”
“So we know who made this and why it’s important to Belle Island history. You think that’s why she had it?”
“Probably. Miss G did like to learn about the local history.”
He nodded toward the box. “Want to see what else is in here?”
“You know, I think I’d rather wait until tomorrow. Open one each day. One at a time.”
“Oh, kind of like Miss G’s advent calendar. She gave me one. I loved it. She refilled it every year.”
“She gave you one too? She gave me one when I was a little girl.” Her heart warmed at the memory. “And each Christmas I couldn’t wait to get here for the holidays and open one drawer a day. She’d put in little charms, or a special seashell, or a piece of candy. Every day was a new surprise.”
He tilted his head, watching her closely. “So, we’ll do that with this box? Open one each day?”
“Absolutely. What a great idea. I bet Nana would approve.”
“I have the feeling she would, too.” He nodded his head slowly and smiled.
She returned his smile. Randy seemed to understand her in ways that no one except Nana ever had.
CHAPTER 7
Evie turned from pouring a cup of coffee when a knock sounded at the door. She glanced at the clock, noting it was early, but probably not too early for visitors. She opened the door to find Randy standing there, a box from The Sweet Shoppe in his hands.
“Morning. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said, a sheepish grin on his face. “I brought cinnamon rolls from The Sweet Shoppe. Thought we could have breakfast together before we take a look at the next item in the box.”
She smiled. “That sounds perfect. Come on in. I’m anxious to open another item too.”
He stepped inside and looked around the cottage. “No Christmas decorations? Can’t remember a December without this cottage crammed with holiday decorations.”
“No. I don’t think I’m going to put anything up this year. It’s just too… hard.”
He looked at her with understanding. “I guess it would be hard.” He shrugged. “Or maybe it might cheer you up.”
Maybe. But she didn’t think so
He followed her into the kitchen where she poured him a cup of coffee, and then they settled at the kitchen table, the aromaof freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet scent of the cinnamon rolls. As they ate, they chatted about their plans for the day. “I really am going to do some more sorting through Nana’s things. I can’t avoid it forever.”
“Sometimes the hard jobs are better when they’re faced head-on and we just work our way through them.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m going to make sure I make some headway each day. Then, eventually, it will all be over.” If she could ever make decisions on what to keep and what to give away. It felt like everything held so many precious memories.
After they finished their breakfast, she cleared the table and retrieved the box from the living room. She set it on the table between them, and they both looked at it with anticipation.
“Ready to see what’s next?” she asked, her fingers hovering over the lid.
He nodded, leaning forward in his chair.
She carefully lifted the lid and reached inside. The item she pulled out was slim, flat, and rectangular. Gently, she unwrapped the tissue paper to reveal one old index card on top and an even older, yellowed one beneath it.
She looked at the first card. “It’s a recipe,” she said, turning the card over in her hands. “For sugar cookies.”
He leaned closer, studying the handwritten script. “It looks like Miss G’s handwriting.”
She ran her finger over the faded ink, a lump forming in her throat. “I remember these cookies. Nana used to make them every Christmas. We’d decorate them together, and she’d let me sneak bites of the dough when she thought no one was looking.”
