“Are you sure?” Leo asked, no censure in his voice.
“I’m sure!”
“This is the one?”
“Yes!”
“All right then, buddy.” Leo gave Maddie a glance laced with humor while Charlie danced a circle around the tree.
“Perhaps you can turn the bald spot to the wall?” Maddie whispered.
“And trim it straight?” Leo whispered back.
“And add lots of lights so that no one will notice that it’s not very . . . full.”
Charlie beamed.
The little boy’s delight reminded her that the heart liked what the heart liked. She and Leo bent on either side of the trunk, then worked together to cut down the homely tree.
Her own heart also liked what it liked, despite all her self-lectures and all her best efforts.
Maddie grunted as she lifted a cardboard box markedWinslow Family Chinaoff of a box markedSave for Maddie.
She was spending her Sunday afternoon foraging for items for the garage sale. To that end, she’d bravely scaled the pull-down steps that led to her parents’ attic. Her father was tidy, so like the rest of the house, everything here was well organized. Nonetheless, a tinge of spookiness hung in the air.
Maddie’s family and friends had supported her involvement in Mission:Christmas by purging their belongings annually in order to stock her sale. So far this December, her purging pile and her parents’ purging pile were both looking thin. Her mom had mentioned that Maddie might be able to find more items in the attic, so here she was.
TheSave for Maddiebox was promising. She used the pair of scissors she’d brought with her to slit the duct tape holding the box closed. Sinking to her knees, she opened the cardboard flaps. A few well-loved, bedraggled stuffed animals rested on top. Below that, her favorite books from when she’d been small. Then artifacts from her school days.
None of this was garage-sale worthy.
After setting aside folded baby clothes and blankets, she unearthed a small, stained fabric bag, fragile with age. A bouquet of purple flowers had been stitched onto the front.
Maddie set her weight on her heels and lifted the bag. She could feel the contours of something inside, something firm. Turning the bag over, she saw that a row of letters and dates had been stitched onto the back. The topmost line readLD 1768. The bottommost readFBC 1959.
What in the world?
Gently, she opened the drawstring. A piece of jewelry slid onto her palm.
Silver had been artfully sculpted into interlocking hearts to form a base that supported a large pale purple heart-shaped stone. A single wide clasp stretched across the back. A brooch. An old brooch? She’d never seen it before. She’d have remembered if she had, surely. So why was it in her box?
She tilted the brooch to catch the light from the utilitarian bulb above. The stone seemed to draw in radiance, to glow with it . . . almost magically.
She carried the treasure down the attic steps in search of her mom and came upon Brandon watching TV in the game room. “Haven’t moved a muscle since I went to the attic, I see,” she said.
“Why would I?” He tilted a thumb in the direction of the flat screen. “Football’s on.”
“Hey, how about when I come back, you go up to the attic with me and help me hunt for garage-sale items?”
“Yeah, I would, but it might mess up my manicure.”
She snorted and continued downstairs.
Her mom stood at the kitchen island, rolling out pie crust.
“I found something,” Maddie said.
“Great, honey!” She had yet to look up.
