The emotional litany having affected me as well, I was thankful to be able to get up and walk around. The box was one I remembered from the house. It had been in his room and I was pretty certain it belonged to my grandmother. I’d never really paid much attention to it but as I picked it up, I noticed that although it had a very slim shape it was heavy. And the box itself was quite ornate. Scrollwork embellished the sides, and in the center of the top was an oval with a coat of arms.
Suddenly curious as to what it was, I handed it to my grandfather. “Here you go.”
He took it with both hands and carefully set it on the table beside him. “Do you know what this is?”
“No.”
With great care, he set his hand on the top of it, like it was precious. “This box was given to me by your grandmother’s father. Millie and I weren’t even eighteen when we got married. We were so young, but we were determined to leave Ireland. Her father had no money to give us and he knew going to America was going to be a hardship on his daughter. I tried to reassure him that I would take care of her, but he wanted to ensure that she would be okay. That’s why he gave me this. In case I ever needed something so badly, and had no way of getting it.”
My brows bunched.
With his hand still on it, he went on. “It’s a snuff box and it belonged to his great-great grandfather. I’m not sure what it was worth in 1956 when it was given to me, but I had it appraised in the seventies when all the violence on the streets got out of hand. At the time I was thinking of taking my family and disappearing and wanted to see how far it would take us.”
“How much was it worth then?” I asked curiously.
“One-point-one million.”
Shocked, I gasped. “And you leave that in your dresser? Shouldn’t you lock it up?”
“Na, everyone thinks it’s just a cheap box.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d had no idea.
Moving past its history, he opened it up and took out two key rings. With shaky fingers he managed to pocket one of the keys before holding the other up to show me. “This key is to a safety deposit box at the Chase Bank over on Washington Street near Franklin Park. Do you know which bank I’m talking about?”
“Yeah, I know where it is. The one on the corner of Park Avenue.”
“That’s the one. Inside that safe deposit box is your grandmother’s engagement ring and our wedding bands. I want you to take them and when you’re ready, you give that diamond to that girl of yours.”
I stared dumbly at him.
He put the key ring back inside the box and handed the box to me. “I don’t have as much to give you as your grandfather Ryan does, but I want you to take this. Use it if you ever need to. Think of it as a security blanket, like I did.”
Unease washed through me and I shoved it back his way. “What’s all this about?”
Sensing my worry, he reassured me. “It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and now that you found the girl you’re going to spend the rest of your life with, it seemed like the right time.”
The box had somehow transferred into my hands. “Gramps, Elle and I just met. We’re nowhere near ready to get married.”
He patted my hand. “Time isn’t what matters; knowing she’s the one is the only thing that does. Sure, take some time to get to know each other, but don’t wait too long, Logan. Life can pass you by so quickly.”
“Are you sure you want to give me Grandma’s ring?”
He eased back in his chair. “Millie wanted so much to see you grow up. And when she found out the cancer was going to take her, she hated that she was going to miss it. She made me promise to give the ring to you when the time was right.”
Words stuck in my throat.
“Promise me you won’t wait too long. Promise me, Logan.”
For him, I found the words. “I promise, Gramps. And I’ll bring her by next week.”
His dark eyes glinted with contentment. “I’d like that.”
“Is there something going on?” I asked.
He shook his head.
Somehow I managed to convey what I’d always felt in my heart and gestured between the two of us. “Gramps, this means more to me than all the money in the world.”
His smile was bright and prideful as he looked at me. Then he closed his eyes, and shortly after that he dozed off.
I left his room with another knot in my gut—something just didn’t seem right.
ELLE
Spring was in early bloom this year.
The breeze was light and cool.
The air fragrant.
The landscape almost indescribably beautiful.
From the rich, vibrant colors of azaleas, rhododendrons, and tulips bursting across the adjacent meadow to the fence separating this holy ground from the wildness beyond, with its overabundance of yellow daffodils growing against it.
The grass, too, was picture perfect. Although barely green, it was still soft and welcoming. And each building had planter boxes outside its windows filled with hundreds of purple violets.
Then there were the pathways. They were made of smooth gray stones that peeked out beneath a mat of leggy clover and dandelions. The dandelions. The reason I picked this location over so many others Michael had suggested.
Green Meadows was a small cemetery on the west side of Boston in Watertown, and although Michael thought it was too small and too far, I thought it was perfect. It reminded me of my childhood, of my sister and me running through the fields, picking dandelions and blowing on them.
Perhaps sensing in a way that I knew what Lizzy would prefer, Michael had conceded, and Green Meadows was the place we’d laid my sister to rest. The funeral gathering was small and nondenominational, the sermon short, and the gravestone marker was simple. It read:
Elizabeth Sterling O’Shea
In loving memory
Anything else would have been hypocritical.
To say loving wife and mother would have been a lie. Lizzy had deserted her husband and child for a life she had somehow found more fulfilling. A life filled with drugs, sex, and money.
To say loving sister, well, since we hadn’t spoken in fifteen years. That said it all. The last time I saw my sister was when my mother died and I was lying in a hospital bed. She came to say goodbye and left me alone with our father, who by any definition was a monster.
And to say loving daughter would have been a joke. I hadn’t talked to our father in twelve years, and when I finally found the strength to track him down and call him to let him know Lizzy had died, he told me, “She has been dead to me for years.” When I hung up, I knew that would be the last time I’d ever talk to him.
After the casket was lowered, we all began to leave the cemetery. Michael took my hand and I tried to pull it away, but he just seemed to grip it tighter. I couldn’t wait to see Clementine, to hold her to me. Michael and I had both agreed she was too young to attend.
Coming to a halt, I glanced back. I knew Logan was somewhere in the distance watching me, but that wasn’t why I stopped. I had a few things I needed to say and do. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up,” I said to Michael.
“I’ll wait in the car,” he told me and headed that way with the dozen or so other people who had attended. Aside from his sister and her husband, and his father, I didn’t know anyone there.
With the delicate silver bracelet I’d recently found gripped tightly in one hand, I closed my eyes. The bracelet was the one that my sister had given me on my tenth birthday. It was meant to bring me comfort on those nights my father would insist on having sex with my mother when it was clear she wasn’t interested. It was also the same one I had thrown at her when she told me she was leaving me alone with our father. The same one I’d found in her car. The dainty silver chain was a lot of things, but right now it was a keepsake I’d hold on to. I’d save it and give it to her daughter one day when thoughts of her mother might surface.