Page 85 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

“You too.”

“Good night, Clara.” I spun for the door, ready to make my escape, when she stopped me.

“Wait. What about the box?” Clara went to the small table where we’d left Lou’s box and letters.

The box. Damn it.

“Oh, I forgot about it.” In an effort to get out of here while I still could, before I said or did something that would tarnish these days with Clara, I’d completely forgotten about the box.

The door would have to wait.

She took a chair on one side of the table while I sat in the other. Then she lifted out the box’s contents. Other boxes, all small. “These are jewelry boxes.”

Six in total, in varying colors and sizes. And each of them had a small piece of paper taped to the underside.

“Here you go,” she said, passing over my letter and the navy velvet ring box with my name on it.

I opened the envelope first, pulling out a crisp piece of ecru paper and unfolding it.

* * *

Karson,

These were my wife’s rings. She couldn’t wear them when she was pregnant with our baby because her fingers swelled up like sausages. That’s what she called them. Sausage fingers.

By rights, I should have buried her with them. But that was a hard time. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t realize she hadn’t been wearing the rings in her coffin until I found them in her jewelry box a few weeks later.

Now that she’s gone and I’m not long to follow, I’d like you to have them.

Give them to a woman like my Hope. She was smart and brave. She laughed through the good times and made me laugh through the bad. She was the soul on earth I was made to find.

I left a picture of her beside my bed. Wasn’t she a beauty? One look at her and the world made sense.

Take care of yourself. And I’ll thank you in advance for taking care of these for Hope. I trust you’ll give them to someone special. You always had good taste in girls. I suspect that won’t change.

Lou

* * *

I read it twice. Three times. And my heart ached so badly I could barely breathe.

It was an elegant letter for a man who’d mostly spoken in grunts. Refolding the paper, I returned it to the envelope, tucking it carefully inside. Then I took the box and pried the lid open.

The center jewel on the engagement ring was a deep grayish blue, the color of the ocean on a stormy day. It was accented by tiny diamonds on each side. The white jewels were arranged without a pattern, like leaves beneath a flower. The white gold band was smooth and shiny. It matched the simple wedding ring beneath.

“Damn, Lou.” I pulled the ring from the box, holding it up to catch the light. “This was his wife’s ring.”

Clara didn’t respond. She was too busy staring at the ring pinched between her own fingers.

It was Lou’s wedding band. I didn’t have to ask to know. And I suspected Clara’s letter was also about Hope.

A tear dripped down her cheek, snapping her out of her trance. She blinked her eyes clear and swiped at her face. Then she refolded her letter and put it away. “I’ll send the others their letters and boxes when I get home.”

“Thanks.” I put Hope’s ring away, then shoved the box into my pocket. Then I took the letter and stood, needing a minute to let Lou’s words sink in.

The timing of this had me reeling. Two months ago, that letter would have meant something else entirely.

“I’m going to go,” I said. “Good night.”