to the library, where Kathy greeted Marsha with a smile.
After introducing Bree and Cindy to Kathy, Marsha asked her if she had any new ideas about where to look for Paul’s information.
“A few,” Kathy said, and then, turning to Bree, reached out and held both her hands as she said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Bree nodded and looked away as Kathy led them to a table where she had laid out yearbooks from local high schools. Bree knew if she were her usual self, she would enjoy the soft quiet safety of the library.
But at the moment, it felt ominous, as if it was filled with lost people crying out to her to be found, which was ridiculous. No one was lost, not even Paul. He was dead, not lost. All she wanted to do was run and hide from it all.
She recognized the feeling. She had run away with Paul. What bothered her most was Paul had run with her, knowing her secret. But she had never known his.
Did that mean that all of their life together was a lie? Bree wasn’t sure she could live with that, and she didn’t know if she had to either.
“Perhaps you will find him in one of these?”
“Thank you,” Bree mumbled, looking at the stacks of books on the long table, smelling the mustiness of them. Did she really want to look through them? Wasn’t this a waste of time?
But Cindy had already settled into a chair and patted one beside her.
“I’ll look at the names, and you look at the faces,” Cindy said, handing a yearbook to her.
Bree knew Cindy was implying that maybe Paul Stanford Mann wasn’t his name at all, and that part was the beginning of the lies. Cindy was right. He might have changed his name. But would she recognize him?
Bree’s frustration deepened. She could feel the fire inside her smoldering. It was a fruitless mission, but at least when they had no place else to look, she could call off the search knowing they had done their best, and perhaps that fire waiting to erupt could be put out for good.
Kathy touched Marsha’s arm to get her attention and then tilted her head towards the rows of books that stood at the end of the room.
“I’ll continue looking through old newspapers while you two look through these?” Marsha said, as she turned to follow Kathy.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” Kathy whispered as she led her back through a long row of books, checking to see that no one was around.
“What’s going on?”
Kathy reached into her pocket, pulled out a folded-up piece of paper, and handed it to Marsha.
“I got this a few weeks ago. I thought it was a prank but held onto it because I didn’t know what to make of it. And then yesterday, you walked into the library and asked to search for Paul Stanford Mann, and well… here, read it.”
Marsha unfolded the paper and saw that it was a letter, just like the letters they had all received. Only Kathy’s instructions were different.
Looking up from the letter, she asked, “You got a letter from Paul? How could that be? Did you know him?”
“No. Of course not, or I would have told you. The name sounded familiar when you asked about him, but I didn’t associate it with the letter until after you left. I was worried all night. I hope I did the right thing. I followed the directions and called that lawyer and told him you were here.”
Marsha felt like sitting on the floor and crying. It was a weird response, but that’s what she wanted to do. Just sit down and cry. Make all of this go away. Go home wherever that was and start over somehow.
But seeing Kathy’s distressed face, she pulled herself together and asked, “What did he say?”
“He said thanks and then hung up. Called me back ten minutes later and asked me if I could keep you here until some woman showed up.”
“What woman? When is she coming?”
“I don’t know who the woman is; he didn’t tell me. The only thing he said was she would get here early this afternoon and would help your search for Paul. He only told me her name, and he said she would ask for me when she got here.”
“Her name?”
“Grace. He said her name was Grace.”
“What do I do?” Marsha asked Kathy as if she had the answers. “Do I tell them, or do we wait to see if this woman actually shows up?”
“Why not continue the search? That way, you might be better prepared for this Grace person and whatever she will tell you. At least it will keep you all here.”
“For five more hours? I am not sure Bree will make it that long. I think she wants to forget the whole thing and leave as soon as possible.”
“Can’t blame her. Maybe search for a few hours and then go to lunch. I know a lovely restaurant close to here. When Grace arrives, I’ll bring her there? In the meantime, I’ll keep Cindy and Bree busy with yearbooks, and you keep checking the newspapers.”
Marsha sighed before saying, “Okay.”
She didn’t have a better plan. Besides, who was this Grace? And what did she know that was so important she had to travel to Pittsfield to tell them? Was it someone Paul knew? Would she unravel the mystery for them? Would it be a good thing?
For a moment, Marsha thought about telling Cindy and Bree about the woman coming to meet them, but seeing Bree’s pale face as she slowly looked through yearbooks, she decided against it. Bree was trying to be the strong woman they all knew, but it was evident that she was barely holding it together.
Marsha only hoped Grace was bringing good news, and Bree could begin to heal, but she doubted that was what it would be. Instead, it was much more likely to be something that tore Bree’s life apart just a little bit more.
“Thanks, Paul,” Marsha whispered sarcastically to his ghost. “Good thing you’re not around right now because I am so angry with you I could punch you.”
That thought made Marsha laugh. Sure, I’d punch him. Not likely. Even so, he’d be feeling the wrath of four women, which is probably why he left.
“Coward,” she whispered again to him and headed back to the microfiche machine to see what she could find, but mostly to keep herself busy until Grace could get there.
It’s funny how grace is precisely what we need right now, Marsha thought. We need a moment or two of grace.
Marsha wondered if the woman matched her name. She hoped that she did.