Winston’s hand was on the door handle when he turned back. “If you need anything, give me a shout.” With a jaunty wave, he was gone, leaving them alone in the paper-filled room.
Jack turned to Cora. “Ready to dive into Sunrise’s thrilling past?”
She groaned but couldn’t help smiling. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They settled into a rhythm, Jack operating the microfilm reader while Cora sifted through physical copies. The whir of the machine and the rustle of paper were occasionally interrupted by a sneeze when the dust got to be too much.
After several hours of fruitless searching, Cora leaned back, stretching arms that had gone stiff from flipping pages. “Well, either Lolly and Lincoln were experts at staying out of the news, or we’re looking in the wrong place.”
Jack rubbed his eyes, looking as drained as she felt. “Maybe we should take a break. My eyeballs are ready to go on strike.”
“Move over,” she said, nudging him aside. “Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will help.”
Cora settled into the chair he’d vacated, catching a whiff of his cologne. It was warm and spicy, like a cozy night by a fire. Not exactly the thing to notice in the back of a dusty newspaper archive. And she definitely wasn’t supposed to notice how the tattoo on his forearm moved when he changed the microfilm either. She forced her brain to stay focused.
“Okay,” she said, facing the screen. “Show me your secrets, 1965.”
Jack leaned over her shoulder to adjust the focus, his breath warm against her neck. She suppressed a shiver.
“There,” he said, turning a dial on the side of the machine. “That should be clearer.”
Cora swallowed hard. “Thanks,” she managed to say.
As she scrolled through the images, the years flashing by in a blur of headlines and grainy photos, a familiar face suddenly caught her eye.
“Wait, is that . . .?”
Jack leaned in, his chest almost brushing against her back. “Yes, that’s Lolly.”
There she was, grinning from ear to ear, standing next to a pumpkin that looked big enough to turn into Cinderella’s carriage. The headline read:Local Teen Grows Record-Breaking Gourd—Claims Secret is Tough Love and Jazz Music.
Cora burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “She told me about this once. She played jazz for that pumpkin every night and gave it a stern talking-to when she didn’t think it was growing fast enough. The neighbors thought she was nuts.”
Jack’s laughter joined hers, rich and warm. “Your grandmother was really something.”
“She really was,” Cora said, an ache spreading through her chest. She could almost hear Lolly’s voice telling her that story when she got a C on a high school history project.Your teacher just didn’t have the vision, sweetheart. Sometimes you’ve got to be okay with doing things that seem crazy to other people.
For a moment, they were both silent, lost in the memory of Lolly’s smile.
Then Jack cleared his throat. “She won, so I’m assuming the jazz thing actually worked. Asking for a friend who’s thinking of starting a garden.”
Cora snorted, grateful for a distraction from the melancholy. “Nice try, Harlow. I’m not giving away Lolly’s gardening techniques. A girl’s got to have some secrets.”
He grinned, leaning closer, eyes crinkling in that way that made her heart skip.
“You’re definitely a woman of mystery.”
Her breath caught in her chest.
And then the microfilm machine made a noise like a cat caught in a blender, shattering the moment.
They jumped apart, and Cora let out a nervous laugh. “Well, that was ...”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed, running a hand through his hair.
He looked as flustered as she felt, which was oddly satisfying.
“Maybe we should keep looking. We’ve got to find something eventually, right?”
