I touched what appeared to a water spot on the page but knew it was my aunt’s tear and my heart ached for her. Having finally fallen in love, I could understand what she meant. The thought of losing Ian, never seeing him again added to the tears in my eyes that had gathered there for my aunt. And a single tear fell from my eye to join my aunt’s tear on the journal page.
“Pep, what’s wrong?” Ian asked suddenly in front of me.
Tears trickled down my cheeks as I looked up at him suddenly standing in front of me. He hurried to sit on the couch beside me and take me into his arms.
“Tell me, Pep,” he urged.
I heard the worry in his voice, and I couldn’t stop a few more tears from falling, since it spoke clearly of how much he loved me. I pointed to the journal in my lap and tapped the page, then rested my head on his shoulder.
The logs crackling were the only sounds in the room, well that and a slight snore from Mo as Ian silently read the page.
“I fell in love with you like that, Pep. As soon as I laid eyes on you I knew I loved you. I could feel it in the maddening beat of my heart. I knew I would never be happy with any woman but you. I guess I’m much like my uncle.”
“I didn’t want to admit I liked you… more than liked you. I was afraid I’d mess up any chance with you, so I denied how I felt until I couldn’t deny it anymore,” I admitted more to myself than Ian.
He laughed and kissed my cheek. “I didn’t give you a chance, Pep. You were mine from day one and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, in the end I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”
“Like yourself do you?” I said with a poke to his rib.
“Nay, lass, it’s that I love you more.”
He kissed me again but not on the cheek this time.
We settled comfortably in each other’s arms.
“Our meeting was by chance just like your uncle and my aunt, only they never truly got to be together like we have,” I said.
“I’m just grateful they met, fell in love, and took the chance and remained together in secret or we would have never met.”
“I wished they could have had more,” I said.
“They loved each other, Pep, and they never stopped loving each other. They had a lot more than most people. How about I read more of your aunt’s journal.”
“Definitely. With your brogue it will be as if your uncle is reading it and is here with us along with my aunt.”
I closed my eyes, seeing my aunt in my mind’s eye as Ian read and when she mentioned missing the man she had met, I saw Max clearly smiling at her. We were all there together and I couldn’t be happier.
I don’t know when I fell asleep, or when Ian scooped me up and carried me to bed. But I did know when he wrapped himself around me and whispered, I love you, Pep, and I always will.”
20
I spent the early morning getting work done on my journal project, then I did a quick blog on document safety. It’s so important to make certain original documents, birth certificates, marriage licenses, death certificates, wills, certificate of title for vehicles, etc., and such are secured safely in a fire and waterproof safe box. More importantly is having that safe box easily accessible to grab and go when evacuation is necessary, or heaven forbid if there’s a fire in your home or water damage. It’s good to have copies of important documents but when it comes down to it, the original documents are the ones you’ll need for a multitude of things. I mapped out how to secure your documents and added purchase links to safety boxes I knew were reliable.
Once I finished, it was time for a cup of tea and, of course, one look at the dining room table loaded with all the information collected on the Carson case drew me to it. The suspect list, my dad’s notes, newspaper articles, interviews, things Stan had told me, notes I took on anything my dad had said in reference to the case, Marsh and the mayor’s conversation I heard and what both men confessed to my dad, what Betty Carson had told Amy, and for some reason I couldn’t find a cohesive thread. An old saying popped into my head, everything thrown in but the kitchen sink.
That was how it felt. Too many things and none of it making sense, nothing truly connecting.
My cell rang and I saw it was Amy.
“I tracked Pete Carson down. At least I think I did, and I got a phone number,” she said excitedly. “But I don’t have time to pursue it right now. I’m texting it to you. Let me know if he’s the right Pete Carson and how it goes. Can’t talk, got a client zooming in.”