Some repairs wait so long they become part of the furniture.
Thomas noticed none of it.
Or had the manners not to show it.
I made coffee because that is what my generation does when confused.
Ellie sat at the kitchen table eating cereal while Thomas opened the envelope.
“Rose and I worked together,” I said.
“At St. Catherine’s?”
“Yes.”
Thomas nodded.
“She was a nurse.”
“So was I.”
For six years.
Before my daughter Amy was born.
Before childcare became impossible and I took a bookkeeping job closer to home.
“Why was your mother looking for me?”
Thomas’s expression became serious.
“She wasn’t.”
I frowned.
“You said your family had been.”
“We started after she died.”
That was somehow stranger.
“Why?”
He removed a letter.
The envelope had my maiden name written across the front.
MARGARET ELLIS.
The handwriting made my throat tighten.
Rose.
I remembered it from nursing schedules.
Birthday cards.
Notes stuck to the break-room refrigerator.
“Where did you find that?”
“In my mother’s safe-deposit box.”
“Why didn’t you mail it?”
“We tried.”
“When?”
“Five years ago.”
I thought.
Five years ago, George had already been ill.
We had moved temporarily into our daughter’s apartment for several months while the plumbing in our house was repaired.
Mail forwarding had been a disaster.
“What happened?”
“It came back.”
“And after that?”
“We hired someone to find you.”
The word hired made me uncomfortable.
Thomas noticed.
“Public-record searches only.”
“Then why did it take years?”
He smiled faintly.
“There are more Margaret Hales than you might think.”
“Apparently.”
“And then yesterday Rebecca called.”
“Because of the ring.”
“Yes.”
Ellie looked up from her cereal.
“I found it behind candy.”
Thomas smiled.
“My sister said.”
“Was it really valuable?”
“Yes.”
“How valuable?”
I gave her the look.
“What?”
“It’s rude to ask.”
Thomas shook his head.
“It’s all right.”
“How much?” Ellie repeated.
He thought.
“Enough that Rebecca was very grateful you returned it.”
Ellie frowned.
“That is not a number.”
I almost laughed.
Thomas did.
“About ninety thousand dollars.”
My spoon slipped from my hand.
It struck the counter.
Ellie’s eyes became enormous.
“Ninety thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
She turned to me.
“Grandma!”
“I heard.”
“That could buy a lot of cereal.”
Thomas laughed so hard he had to take off his glasses.
I did not.
Ninety thousand dollars.
Behind a box of candy.
