Chapter Four

    Sandy had been keeping her own excitement in check.  She wanted to be calm and collected for April's sake.  There was no way April could be disappointed in the outcome, now.  The chest was stuffed with all manner of letters and cards.  A huge grin began to spread across her face.
    "Well, that's certainly not you grandmother's napkins," Sandy giggled.
    "Indeed," Dr. Clayborne interjected.  "I see nothing about the interior of this chest that contradicts my original conclusions.  April, you do indeed have an authentic colonial piece here.  And it looks as though you have plenty of documentation of its history.  Congratulations, my dear."
    April was speechless for once.  She desperately wanted to reach in and touch the letters.  She needed to prove to herself that she wasn't dreaming.  But before she could, Sandy shot a look at her that stopped her cold.
    "This is more than we could have hoped for, but you people need to get back and stop breathing on it now," Sandy ordered.  "April, you asked me along to make sure that if there were any paper items in there that they would be properly preserved.  Like it or not, that's what I'm about to do.  No one touches a thing in there until I can get it to the documents lab under controlled conditions."
    Sandy was right of course.  As much as April's natural curiosity was at a fever pitch, she knew she had to let her friend take custody of her treasure.  Dr. Clayborne temporarily rigged the lock so that the chest could be closes again without getting latched and handed it over to Sandy.
    "It's still early.  I can get this over there before they close up for the day, if I go right now.  I know how much this means to you, April, and I promise that I'll get to work on what's inside right away."  She hugged April and hurried out the door with the chest.
    April turned to her mentor.  "Thank you so much, Dr. Clayborne.  I thought that chest might be more than one of Grandma's flea market finds."
    "I am honored that you would let me see something from that period first hand.  You will let me know more about its history once you've studied it's contents?"
    "Absolutely, sir," April beamed.
    "Very good, then.  Now if you will excuse me, I have some things I need to finish up before I leave for the day," he said in dismissal.
    "Thank you again, sir," April said as Patrick escorted her out the door.
    Patrick was still holding onto her as if she were going to drop.  She didn't realize it, but she was still trembling.  He walked along with her back to the coffee shop until he was sure she was going to be fine.  They parted company about half way across campus, and April began her long wait.
    Within a couple of days, Sandy was ready to start handing over some of the letters found inside the chest.  April fussed and paced all over her apartment.  She might just strangle Sandy, though.  Sandy wouldn't give even a little hint about what she  was bringing over.  All she knew was that there were several letters in good condition, and that Sandy would drop them by tonight.  The anticipation was killing her.
    Just as she was about to rearrange the magazines on the coffee table for the fourth or fifth time, the door bell buzzed.
    "It's about time you showed . . . " she started to say as she pulled open the door.
    But, instead of finding Sandy on the other side, she found Patrick standing there grinning from ear to ear.
    " 'Patrick, so nice to see you.  Do come in,' " he mocked.
    April made a face and groaned as she walked away from the open door.
    "I take it Sandy's not here, yet."
    "No," was her curt answer.
    "She called me, told me that it was urgent, that I should get my butt over here," he explained as he wandered into the kitchen.
    He dropped the duffle bag he'd been carrying and helped himself to a bottle of water from the fridge.  April was sill fidgeting around the place and came into the kitchen with him.
    "Oh, god!  What is that smell," she gagged.
    "Is it that bad?"   
    "Uhg, you're such a guy!  What have you been doing?"
    "Sam Masters is back at the University.  They promised him a brand new facility and no telling what else, if he'd coach fencing for them.  He invited me over to check out the new digs," Patrick explained as he drained the water bottle.  "And there's no way I'm meeting Masters at his new fencing facility and not spar a bit.  He's still the best blade around, but he didn't win every round," Patrick smiled.  "We had just finished up when Sandy called.  I thought she would be here within a few minutes, so I rushed over."
    "Gee, thanks for coming right over to stink up the place," April responded in acid tones.
    "Let me borrow your shower for a bit and I will stop being so offensive, then."
    She stood there for a moment and then retorted, "You're waiting for me to deliver fresh fluffed towels?  Go!  Make all haste!"
    Without another word he tossed the emptied water bottle in the trash and took his bag to the bathroom.
    "I'm glad I didn't have a real brother," April mumbled to herself and wandered back out into the living room. 
    The bell buzzed again, and April raced to the door.  She opened the door to find Sandy dressed to kill in a gorgeous black cocktail dress.  Her blond hair was swept up in shiny curls atop her head, and her blue eyes sparkled as she beamed with a huge smile. 
    "Wow, you look divine.  What's the occasion," April asked as she let Sandy in.
    "Mark's taking me out for a romantic dinner at that new place on South Beach."
    After five years of dating, Mark finally got enough nerve to marry Sandy.  Over a year later she was still such a blissful newlywed, that she had recently made it her mission to make the rest of her friends just as blissful.
    "Is Patrick here, yet," Sandy asked.  "I told him to get right over."
    "He's in the shower," April said off-handedly.
    "He's where?"
    "The shower?  What!?"
    "I had no idea such things were going on between the two of you," Sandy teased.
    "Oh, please, give me a break.  Me with Patrick?  No, that opportunity passed us by ages ago.  You called him while he was sparring with Sam Masters.  He rushed over here without cleaning up.  I couldn't stand the smell of sweaty locker room, so I sent him to the shower."
    "Oh," Sandy deflated.  "It's too bad you feel that way, though.  You two would  be great together."
    "Will you give it up, Sandy?  He wasn't interested when we were in college, and he's far from interested now.  We're friends and I don't think it will ever go beyond that.  Anyway, that's not why you're here.  You promised me letters."
    "Yes, yes, I'm sorry.  At the top of the pile inside that little chest of yours were several letters to Grandma Irene.  They were all in excellent condition.  I just needed to get them into some protective sleeves so that you could look at them with the minimum wear and tear," she explained as she handed a binder to April.  "I didn't really read through much of them.  I wanted to get them taken care of and move on to some of the more delicate items.  April, there are several generations of cards and letters in that chest.  I haven't gotten to the bottom, yet, but I've come across stuff dating back to the Civil War so far!"
    "Are you kidding me," April was incredulous.
    "No, this is the most amazing," Sandy started to say when her cell phone started buzzing.  "It's Mark wondering what's taking me so long.  We have reservations."
    "Then what are you still standing here for?"
    "Thanks, we'll talk more soon," she said as she turned to go.  "Tell Patrick hi for me."
    "Scoot!"
    "Ok, bye," she said as she hugged her friend and hurried down the hall.
    April looked down at the binder and hugged it to her.  She was so eager to dig into it that she forgot all about Patrick.  She dropped herself on the couch and began to leaf through the letters.  There were pages and pages from her grandfather to her grandmother.  They all looked like love letters for the most part.  No wonder Grandma Irene hung on to them.  As she began to read through them, she began to get a picture for what had happened during that time.  Even though they where just the letters from him, he responded to things she must have wrote him.  After he had shipped off, Irene had a falling out with her mother over marrying Howard.  He suggested that she go see his family in Houston for a while and even promised to write them and let them know she'd come.  She did go to see them and while there found a job in a factory.  He was happy she had decided to stay in Houston while he was gone.  The love and longing to be near her was all over every page.  Grandpop had been head over heels in love with Grandma.  She was actually tearing up over a particularly poignant letter when Patrick came bounding out of the bathroom.
    "Hey, you ok," he asked.  "I leave you to take a shower and come back to find you in tears, what's going on?"
    "Oh, nothing," she said as she tried to pull herself back together.  "The letters Sandy had ready for me were love letters from my Grandpop to Grandma.  He had a way of saying things that go straight to the heart."
    "Oh," was all he could come up with.  After an awkward pause he added, "so no clues as to where the chest came from?"
    "No mention of it in anything I've read so far.  But there's still a lot more to read," she said as she showed him the short distance she'd made through the binder so far.
    "I'm getting hungry.  Care if I order us some pizza?"
    "Sure, go ahead," she mumbled as she went back to reading.
    Patrick picked up the phone and called one of the pizza places around the corner.  By the time he succeed in placing the order, he wished he'd gone out and got it himself. 
    "I hope those jug heads can find the place," he grumbled as he joined April in the living room.
    "Who'd you call," she looked up from the binder.
    "That Caesar's place up the street."
    "Oh, yeah, the service there is terrible.  But if the pizza manages to show up it will be worth it.  Cold, but worth it," she said as she looked back down at the letters.  "Come here and look at this.  Not all of these letters are from Grandpop."
    Patrick sat next to her on the couch and began reading over her shoulder.

September 2o, 1942

My Dear Irene,

My apologies for treading in family business, but I believe that, no matter your mother's feelings, you should know she is not well.  She took ill a couple of weeks ago and now has taken a turn for the worse.  Her doctors have insisted that she needs to be admitted to the hospital, but she refuses to go.  No matter how much the doctors have tried to convince them, your brothers will not go against her wishes to be at home.  They are not very hopeful of her recovery.

She has softened of late in her feelings about your marriage.  She has been willing to speak of it lately.  I think this might be an opportunity for the two of you to make amends before it's too late.  She loves you so much, Irene.  She just thought that one of your other suitors would have given you a better life.  You can't blame a mother for wanting the best for her daughter.  But if he loves you like you say he does, there's no amount of worldly comforts that can take the place of love like that.

I do hope this letter finds you well.  And I hope that you will consider coming back to see her very soon.

Your Loving Sister,
lydia

    "So she really did leave Charleston on bad terms with her mother.  How sad," April mused.
    "Keep reading, April, I'm afraid that's not all," Patrick said as he skimmed ahead to the next letter.

September 23, 1942

My dear Irene

I write again today with the saddest of news.  Your mother slipped into unconsciousness a day ago.  And today she took her last breath on this earth.  I am so sorry to have to tell you this.  It breaks my heart that you did not have a chance to talk with her once more. 

I do believe that you were on her mind at the last.  She had called your name in her delirium often, as if she was looking for you.  The last time she had spoken to me about you, she said she would like to see you.  She said there was something important she needed to tell you.  I asked her what it was, but she would not tell me.  I think she wanted to tell you she was sorry.

Arrangements are being made for her funeral and for your brothers' sakes you really should be here.  She did not mention it, but it is our wish that you have the little family chest.  It's been rightfully yours all along.  None of us are interested in breaking with family tradition just because you two had a disagreement. 

Please let me know when you will be arriving.  Your brothers need you here.

Your Loving Sister
Lydia
   
    "So that's where she got the chest.  It sounds like it's been passed down within the family several times," April said in awe.
    "I can't wait to see what else Sandy comes up with out of that thing," Patrick added.
    Once again the doorbell buzzed.
    "That could be the pizza.  I'll get the door," Patrick said as he got up.
    He paid the delivery guy and set up their dinner on the coffee table.  They sat up way into the night reading Irene's old letters.