Gemma popped to her feet, dialed, then paced while the phone rang.
“Hello?” the voice of an elderly woman answered.
“Hello, this is Gemma Clare. I'm Gracie Bettencourt's great-granddaughter.”
“Gemma. Of course. Is everything all right?”
“Everything's perfectly fine. Gracie's well. I found your number among her things and reached out because I have a question for you. But I'm afraid Gracie didn't leave a name next to this number. I'm at a bit of a disadvantage because I don't know who I'm speaking with.”
“Oh! This is Wanda.”
Gracie's long-time friend. A mental image populated of a five-foot-tall woman with a stooped back and short, light pink hair. When Gemma was young, she remembered Wanda coming by Gracie's several times for coffee, cake, and conversation. And Gemma had been with Gracie a handful of times when they'd stopped by Wanda's house to pick up or drop off items. “Wanda!”
She gave a warbling laugh. “Yes, doll.”
“This question might seem strange. But did Gracie, by any chance, leave her diaries with you?”
A brief silence. “Why, yes. She dropped them off with me a few years back.”
Elated surprise bubbled up in Gemma.
“Gracie told me,” Wanda continued, “that she might want to come back to look at them from time to time. After she dies, though, she asked me to dispose of them.”
Ah. Crafty. Gracie had left a clue in code within her desk that led to her cardboard box of memories. Then she'd left another clue in the doodle that would lead her from the box to the rest of the story—recorded in the diaries. The fact that she'd stored the diaries with Wanda and asked her friend to dispose of them after she passed away confirmed Gemma's theory that Gracie had left this trail of clues for herself alone following her Alzheimer's diagnosis.
“A few months ago,” Gemma said, “Gracie told Grandma Colette and Mom and me that she'd forgotten the early stages of her love story with Paul. She was distressed about that and asked for our help. We've figured out some of her story, but the rest is in the diaries.”
“Do you think she'd want the three of you to know what's in the diaries?” Wanda asked doubtfully.
“I don't think the Gracie of two years ago would've wanted that,” Gemma answered honestly. “But the Gracie of today definitely does. She knows there are details she can’t remember.”
Wanda made a thoughtful sound but didn't go on to invite Gemma over to her house to collect the diaries. Clearly, Wanda was unsure how to remain loyal to her friend in this situation.
“We love Gracie,” Gemma said. “A tremendous amount. We won't judge her for anything in her past. Our aim here is simply to reunite her with her own history so she'll know how much she was loved by Paul then and how much she's loved by us now.”
“In that case, doll, come on by and see me when I get back from my trip.”
“You're traveling?”
“I'm in Oregon with my daughter and her husband. I'll be back in three weeks.”
“I’ll call you then.”
Just as they were saying their good-byes and ending the call, Gemma’s phone pinged.
Jude
If you're free, will you come over and have dinner with me tonight?
If you're free. Darling! As if she'd go to kickboxing class or out antiquing instead of having dinner with him. A hurricane of epic proportions could not keep her from having dinner with him tonight.
Jude
Not to brag, but I'm pretty good at grilling sausages on the barbecue.
Gemma
I'll bring bread and salad! What time?
