Read Online Wynn in the Willows by Robin Shope - Free Book Online Page B

that she’d be able to untangle them.
    Wynn slid the photo into her shirt pocket. Next she found her birth certificate…Mother Ruth O’Malley Baxter and Father Steven Wallace Baxter. Roxie’s elementary teaching certificate and her diploma from the University of Minnesota. There was a passport. Wynn turned the pages to see it had expired without a single stamp. Last, she took out a small brown envelope. A piece of paper had the name and address of an Egg Harbor Bank along with a safe deposit box key. There was also a password: TheCove. The contents of the envelope were pocketed.
    She checked her wristwatch. More than twenty minutes had passed. Quickly, she put the birth certificate, the diploma, teaching certificate, and passport back into the box in the reverse order of how they had been removed, scattering the silver dollars on top; just as she had found them. At last, the box was placed back in the drawer which she softly closed.
    It was past time to go. As she passed the basement, she stopped. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She swallowed hard.
    It was too soon for Roxie to get home yet. They were just finishing up with lunch. It would take fifteen minutes to make the drive. There was a bit of time left—if she hurried.
    Wynn heard a vehicle pull into the drive. Panicking, she slammed the basement door and went for her purse. Where was it? Where had she left it? Wynn darted from room to room searching, but it was nowhere to be found. Out of time, Wynn scrambled down the outside steps. Just as she rounded the corner of the house near the hollyhocks, she came face-to-face with Doug Reed.
    “Whoa!” He took a step backwards.
    “Pay attention where you are walking and driving. You nearly ran me off the road the other day.”
    “I know—I’m sorry about that. I was looking down at my phone when it happened.” He pulled the red straw from his mouth.
    “Do you know how dangerous something like that is?” She tried to steady herself with a deep breath. “If you’re looking for my aunt, she isn’t home.”
    “It doesn’t matter. Roxie has a dead tree. She hired me to take it out when I had the time.”
    “Well, then I won’t keep you from your work.” Wynn hoped Doug didn’t sense her guilt. To her relief, the purse was on the floor of her car. She drove around to the Tree House.
    Racing up the stairs, Wynn gathered up the cards she’d scattered this morning in her rush. She gazed at the greeting cards, remembering how, after her dad’s death, she used to hover around her mother. Wynn squashed the cards against her heart in a big hug.
    She had thinking to do. She carried the cards outside and sat in the shade of an oak. A dragonfly with translucent wings buzzed over the red wheelbarrow glassy with rain water. Bees hummed at the edge of the woods.
    Meticulously she arranged the cards in order of receipt. This was the only contact she had from her mother in nearly two decades. Other than the sympathy card for her dog, there was one card for each birthday and one card for every Christmas. In between there was nothing but loud silence.
    The feeling of rejection by someone she needed never went away. Wynn wiped at her eyes. She still loved her mom and missed her. The cards could not replace the longing. The letters mattered.
    Wynn slipped the first card from its envelope. Inside she stared at the birthday cake scene: A group of giggling girls in party hats holding brightly wrapped packages. Inside the card was the blue ink scroll of her mother’s words;
     
    Happy Seventh Birthday, my darling. I am thinking of you all day today. When you hear the sound of laughter, think of me. All my love, Mom.
     
    Could one of the cards hold a clue as to why Ruth left?
    Although Wynn had read them many times, she might have missed something. It just might have something to do with Aunt Roxie. Had her college tuition been about guilt?
    It was then she remembered the tin container.
    The rumble of a truck made her look