Chapter Two

     April shifted the chest to balance it on her hip as she unlocked the door.  The old brass bell merrily jingled its welcome as she entered and tapped the door shut with her foot.  The familiar aroma of coffee waiting to be brewed awakened her like nothing else could.  April had never been a morning person, but life in the coffee shop came very close to making her one.
    She carefully tucked the precious chest under the front counter where she could keep an eye on it and began her shop opening rituals.  Within minutes she had the lights on, the music going, and the coffee perking.  She looked up at the clock.
    "Better get some water boiling . . . " she mumbled to herself.
    Just as all the machines started to hiss, and bubble, and steam, the little brass bell jingled again.
    "Good morning, April.  Back from vacation already," asked Patrick Worley far too cheerily for this hour of the morning.
    "Morning, Patrick," April responded.  "Not exactly what I would call a vacation.  I went up to Boca for a couple of days to help Mom get started cleaning at Grandma Irene's house.  Earl Grey as usual this morning, or could I tempt you with some coffee this time?  I just got an overnight shipment of Kona."
    "No, not this time.  I'll stick with the tea, thanks."
    April had already poured the water and dropped the tea bag in the cup.  She brought it to the table where Patrick had spread out the morning paper.
    "Thank you," he smiled and took two lemon scones from the pastry tray she offered.
    She then turned back to getting milk and other items ready for the rest of the morning crowd.
    Patrick Worley and April Roberts had known each other for a very long time.  They had met during their freshman year at Miami.  Both started out on the same educational track and found they were in several classes together.  Friendship came very easily.  Lots of days were spent having lunch together and going over class notes.  But nothing more ever arose from it.  At the time, April was taking her classes far too seriously.  And, even though Patrick found her very attractive, she was just like the girls he'd dated in high school.  Both were far too interested in all the new experiences offered by the university adventure to get involved with each other.
    She paused to look at the man who had become her closest and dearest friend.  She smiled to herself as she thought he was still the campus hunk, but now he was "Professor Hunk."  That was a term she'd heard often during the semester changes.  It seemed all the young girls couldn't wait to take Humanities from the ever so dreamy Professor Worley.
    April supposed there was good reason for that.  Patrick was tall and fit.  The only things about his looks that were remotely professorial were the slightly conservative suit he tended to wear and the leather satchel he carried around campus.  The suit always hugged his body just right.  Patrick also had a very charming personality, and his passion for the arts and education came through during his lectures.  It was no wonder at all that his classes were always full to the brim.
    Of course, teasing him about his love struck students was a constant source of entertainment for her and the rest of their friends.  It was his own fault, really.  He could have grown a beard or let his hair go a little more unkempt.  The oh-so-freshly-styled sandy blond hair was almost too much of a temptation to muss and ruffle as the brought him a second cup.
    "What's that smile about," Patrick asked as he looked up from his papers.
    "Oh, nothing," April covered but could not stop smiling.
    "Nothing, my a*s.  You've got something you are dying to tell about, don't you?"
    "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?"
    "That confirms it.  Something's up," Patrick's deep brown eyes lit up with a mischievous smile.
    Just then the bell jingled and their friend, Sandy, drug herself though the door.
    "Good morning, Sandy.  Your timing couldn't be more perfect.  Sit down here with Patrick, and I'll get you a latte," April offered, still grinning.
    "What is so important that she would have me up and about at this obscene hour," Sandy glowered at Patrick.
    "Damned if I know."
    "Ah, Sandy, my bright ray of sunshine, what you need is a good shot of caffeine," April teased as she walked back to the counter.
    Sandy didn't respond, but just kept staring at Patrick.  Patrick ignored his ill tempered friend, knowing full well that she'd be much happier after the latte.  April quickly prepared Sandy's drink and returned to the table, latte in one hand and a cloth covered bundle under the other arm.  She placed the cup in front of Sandy and the bundle in the middle of the table.
    "This is what made spending two vacation days on my mom all worth while," April announced, unbidden.
    Patrick and Sandy stared at her, waiting for more.  So, with a flourish, she pulled the protective cloth to reveal the little wooden chest she had found at Grandma Irene's.
    Sandy just sipped at her latte, but Patrick sat up to get a better look at April's prize.
    "This looks old, April, very old," he marveled as he ran his hand across the top of the chest.
    "It might be," April grinned.
    "And . . . " Patrick mined for more.
    "And, I know nothing at all about it.  And, Mom knew no more.  The only thing I know for certain is that it was Grandma Irene's.  Neither of us know when or where she got it."
    "So it's a mystery, then.  And I'm sure you've spent days speculating," he goaded her on.
    "The most likely possibility is that Grandma picked it up in some flea market somewhere because it caught her fancy," April admitted.  "But," she grinned, "it could be something a bit more important."
    "And what would make you think that," Patrick couldn't restrain himself from probing further.  He loved a good mystery as much as April did.
    "The markings on the chest indicate that it was made in Charles Towne, Carolina Colony.  Grandma, it turns out, is from a very old Charleston family.  A fact that she didn't ever bother to make widely known.  Granted, she could have picked it up anywhere, and got it because it was from Charleston.  But, she didn't have one other thing in the whole house from Charleston.  It would seem odd for her to only collect one thing, if it were for sentimentality.  Don't you think?"
    "I remember visiting Grandma Irene.  She was a collector all right.  I can't see her ever getting just one of anything," Patrick recalled.
    Sandy just kept on sipping and watching.
    "That's what I think."  April heaved a sigh and looked straight into Patrick's face.  "My gut tells me there's a family connection, but I have absolutely no proof of it.  And now that Grandma's gone, there's no one to ask."
    "I take it that you have no way of opening it," Patrick led on.
    "No, it's locked tight.  If it is genuinely that old, I don't want to risk damaging it."
    "Well, I certainly know who would love to have a look at it," Patrick smiled again.
    "That's why I have it with me.  I have an appointment to see Dr. Claiborne this afternoon at two."
    "I'd love to see the look on the old man's face when he sees this, but I have time blocked out for student meetings until three," Patrick admitted.  "And speaking of students, I need to get on my way."  He started to gather up his papers, but ran his hand across the deep grained wood once more.  "Tell you what, I planned to meet with students all week.  Maybe I can wrap it up early today and swing by Dr. Claiborne's office," he said with a wink at April.
    "Hope to see you there, then," April smiled back and cleared away his cup and saucer.
    With that, Patrick got up and loped out the door.  "Later gater," he called as the door swung shut, leaving the bell to jingle in his wake.
    "Hhhhmmmmmmm, that's not all there is to this," Sandy finally said as she began to perk up.  "You have some ideas on what might be inside."
    "It's probably full of vintage table linens Grandma bought at the time she bought the chest," April remarked.
    "Sure, it could be napkins, but you don't believe that."
    "Ok, I'm hoping there are documents inside.  The chest doesn't really weigh more than can be accounted for by the chest itself.  Nothing shifts around when I move it.  Whatever is in there, if anything at all, is light weight and not very dense.  That leaves me with cloth or paper.  And yes, I'm hoping that it's paper."
    "And what if it turns out to be Grandma's napkins?"
    Before April could answer, the little brass bell announced the entrance of the first of the morning shift crew.
    "Hold that thought for just a moment," she said to Sandy as she went back to the counter.
    Sandy sat quietly, studying the little wooden chest and sipping the last of her beverage.  Within a few minutes all of the rest of the coffee shop employees came in for the morning shift.  April made sure that they were all ready for the coming morning rush, and then made her way back to the table.
    "Even if the chest turns out to be a complete nothing, it's not a total waste of time," she confided in her friend.
    "Ok, go on."
    "Until we found this the other day, I always thought that both Grandma and Grandpop were from Houston.  Anytime they talked about family, she talked about them as her brothers, sisters, cousins.  I had always assumed that some were hers and some were his.  Turns out they were all his.  Mom says she's met some of Grandma's family, but can't remember with any certainty who or when.  She does know that Grandma's maiden name was Ashley.  So, I've started working on a family history.  Maybe I can track down some of Grandma's relatives."
    "Not much to go on.  Finding documents in that chest would be very helpful," Sandy remarked.  "I guess I know where I'm going to be later this afternoon."
    "Thanks, Sandy," April said as she hugged her.
    "Well, you've got me hooked, now.  I have to see how this turns out," Sandy smiled as she started to get up from the table.  "I think I'd better get to moving on before you get swamped here.  I'll see ya later."
    "Can't get a morning started without a good cup o' joe," April quipped as Sandy made her way out the door.  Once the little brass bell started jingling this time, it didn't rest again until well after ten o'clock.