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The name didn't ring a bell for any of them, but Megan liked it. It reminded her of her favorite character from The Sound of Music. She set down her mug and spoke up. “So this person is a stranger? The Actons sold the property?”
Amelia held up a finger. “Let me call Michael. It’s too hard to get important info from a text. Be right back.” She glided out of the room, her phone pressed to her ear.
It gave the others a moment to confer.
“Why did Mom write that it belonged to us?” Clara’s voice bordered on sounding whiny.
Megan needed a second cup of coffee if she was going to deal with this. “If we open the journal,” she stabbed toward Kate’s table front, “then maybe we’ll find out.” Her tone was sing-song sarcastic, as Kate used to put it. The two now exchanged a look. Laughter tugged at the edges of the conversation. It would appear each one was reverting to her childhood self. That’s what happened when the Hannigan sisters came together. They fell back in time.
A smile broke out on Kate’s mouth, but she shook her head. “Once Amelia’s back, we will. Maybe Michael has more to tell her, though.”
Refilling her coffee and this time adding a second dash of sugar, Megan slid her own phone from her bag on the floor and carried it to the table. Discreetly, she clicked it awake, finding two unread messages. One from Sarah. One from Brian.
To see both their names in her inbox felt a little like old times. When they first gave Sarah a cell phone, just a couple years back, it was normal and welcome for Megan to bounce messages back between the two individually. They also had a group chat they frequented. Then, that changed. The messages between Sarah and Megan grew more tense and less regular. Megan had blamed it all on teenagehood. But deep down, she knew there was more to it than that.
And the messages with Brian went through a similar phase until they nearly halted. More recently, if his name popped into her inbox, it gave Megan a stomachache or a headache or both at once.
Now, however, she felt fine. Happy, even, despite all the drama swirling around the old house in which she sat with her sisters, sipping on Kate’s light roast coffee. She saved Brian’s text and clicked on Sarah’s first.
Can I stay at Clara’s tonight?
Megan flicked a glance up at the petite blonde who sat next to her. Clara, too, was deep into a text conversation, it appeared.
“Are you talking to Sarah?” Megan asked.
Clara looked up. “Oh,” color rushed to her cheeks. “Um, no.” She fumbled her phone onto the table until it landed upside down with a thud. “Sorry. I was on Facebook.”
Megan and Kate looked at each other, then back at their little sister. “Facebook?” Kate arched an eyebrow.
“It’s nothing. I’ll tell you later. What about Sarah?” Clara batted the air and her face returned to its normal tone.
Waving her own phone screen at Clara, Megan replied, “Sarah is asking if she can stay at your apartment with you?”
Clara’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that! Maybe she can help me start moving stuff over and getting set up in the cottage?”
“Perfect,” Megan replied, tapping out a quick reply to her daughter. She was about to open Brian’s message when Amelia came back in the room, a triumphant look on her face.
Kate asked, “Well?”
Amelia grinned, hands on her hips. “Okay,” she began, relaxing from her power pose and returning to the table and assuming a conspiratorial tone. “He said he’s going to look deeper, but from what he can see this Liesel Hart character began paying property taxes upon the deaths of Grandma and Grandpa Acton. Dad never paid taxes, and he wasn’t technically listed in their estate, we can assume. But that’s not all.”
The other three leaned in closer.
“Michael said that he found no record of sale.”
“What does that mean?” Megan asked.
“He could see that the deed was transferred from a joint agreement between the Coast Guard and the county to a private entity in the early nineties. But that was before Grandma and Grandpa died.”
Clara shifted in her seat. “And after they died, it wasn’t sold?”
“Right. Michael said the property became private with that earlier transfer, but from what he can tell, the Actons never sold it.”
Megan drew a finger to her mouth and began to chew on a hangnail. “So why is this Liesel person paying taxes on it?”
“We don’t know. We’d have to get in touch with their estate attorney.”
Kate piped up. “Does anyone remember who that was? I feel like I should know this. I mean, we were beneficiaries. Remember? We each got a little money when they passed.”
“Right, but didn’t their other relatives sort of take over?” Megan protested, her memory growing shades clearer as the conversation jogged it.
“Yes,” Kate answered. “Their siblings saw to the arrangements. I think it was a brother who acted as the executor. Uncle Hugh, right?”
Megan didn’t know any of that. She wasn’t as in the loop as either Kate or Amelia, but surely this would be an easy mystery to solve. “Do you have his contact information?”
Kate’s eyes flashed. “Yes, I do. In my address book. I sent him a Christmas card for years.”
“There ya go,” Amelia answered. “If you can get it to me, Michael agreed to keep helping.”
Megan eyed her older sister. “Oh, he did, did he?”
Amelia, not one to blush easily, rolled her eyes. “He’s become a friend, okay?” Megan thought she noticed a quick look between Amelia and Kate but brushed it off.
“Well if that’s settled for now, can we please return to the notebook? Who knows? Maybe Mom outlined the change of hands for us, and we are sitting on the information right here.” Megan leaned back in her seat, stretching lazily as her rush of energy started to plateau, earlier than usual. She needed a third cup of coffee or else she’d be napping on the beach while her sisters dug into a treasure trove of juicy family history.
“Right. Let’s do it.” Kate flipped open the cover, and Clara and Amelia, who were seated on either side of her, instinctively scooted their chairs closer and craned their necks.
Megan pushed air out of her mouth and stood, grabbing a bar stool from the island and propping it behind Kate so she could look over her shoulder.
Their combined silence lasted only a moment.
“The first page was torn out, look,” Clara pointed along the jagged edge in the center of the book. After it, a blank page sat.
“Go to the next,” Amelia prompted.
Kate turned the page and a new entry materialized. “This is the one that confirmed it was her diary. Look at the date.” The oldest pointed at the left corner and read aloud for their benefit.
May 1965
I’ve never kept a diary. I feel a little silly writing here, but I’ve got to get this down somewhere and since I’m not allowed to confide in even my own sisters, I will just have to write it here.
No, that won’t do. I can’t be entirely honest because what if somebody reads this! You can’t trust sisters any more than a stranger on the street. They’ll share your secrets for little more than a piece of candy. It’s true.
And anyway, I’m not entirely sure this is my secret to share. But I just want to put down that there’s something going on in my life, and I can’t talk about it.
But something I can tell you is that I met someone. Gene. He says he loves me. I can’t say I love him back, yet. But he’s fun, and he’s interested and says he’s there for me. I guess that’s all you need when you’re young and going through something hard.
Well, maybe I’ll write here again later if I have time.
Nora
***
“Oh my gosh,” Clara whispered. “She sounds like one of my students.”
Megan’s throat closed up involuntarily. Hearing and seeing her mother’s words was at once morbidly fascinating and heart-wrenchingly painful. “What do you think she’s talking about? Who’s Gene?” Megan asked, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Kate flipped the page. “Let’s find out.”