I was jealous in an instant, Emmy, that Gwen’s mother could have a long-lost half brother suddenly crawl out of the folds of the past and reconnect with her. I told her how wonderful that was.
But she just shrugged and said it would have been nice to know before now that her mother had a half brother.
I wished her safe travels back to America and a happy life.
She seemed sad to see me go.
I was strangely sad to leave her.
It was a little like saying good-bye to you all over again.
October 22, 1958
Dear Emmy,
I haven’t had much luck finding any clothing designers or bridal shop owners interested in your sketches.
Make that, I haven’t had any luck.
The ones I have spoken to have been quite taken by the story of the brides box, and especially moved by what happened to you and me. They’ve all found it intriguing that I want to see your sketches become real dresses at last, but the designs aren’t in style, said one; the sketches are too faded to be of any use, said another; and they aren’t mine to give away or sell, said several others. Technically they are still your property, Emmy.
I wish I knew the name of the person you were to meet the day of the bombing. I remember your telling me how this was your one chance to be discovered. If I knew who that person was and where to find him or her, I would waste no time in arranging a meeting.
I can’t remember the name of the lady you worked for at the bridal shop, either. The shop is gone. Everything on the street near where the butcher shop was is gone; it’s all new buildings now.
I will keep trying, Emmy. I haven’t given up.
In the meantime, Simon and I have set a date and I am now wearing the engagement ring he tried to give me last spring.
Our wedding date is April 7.
Your birthday.
November 1, 1958
Dear Emmy,
No news to report on the sketches.
I found a seamstress willing to make one of the drawings a reality—I’ve actually found several who make custom dresses all the time, for a pretty price—but the one I like best is not interested in being part of launching a line of wedding dresses with your name on them. She will make a dress for me from one of your designs, but it won’t be to sell in a boutique somewhere. It will be for me to wear.
I am discovering that if I want your drawings to become real wedding gowns, I will need a treasure chest full of money to fund the project myself and then peddle them to bridal shops door-to-door.
I don’t have a treasure chest full of money.
Gramps isn’t a rich man, but he’s done well. I can only hope I can convince him to help me do with your sketches what you would have done with them.
But first I will have to tell my grandparents about the brides box.
And what I did.
Julia
November 9, 1958
Dear Emmy,
Gramps said no.
