Find What is Missing

Lydia sat in her car looking ahead at the home of her aunt. While the house still stood, it no longer held the same charm as it had when she was a child. The wind chimes that tinkered in the breeze no longer stood from the porch ceiling. The strawberry pink roses that grew wild and lush no longer climbed the railing of the porch where it caught meddling fingers and airy clothes in its short thorns. It was the first time in years that she had been at this house. Not since that accident when she was a child.

Slowly getting out of her car, Lydia made her way through the individuals gathered near the front of the home. She gently opened the screen door and walked inside to look around. Her beloved aunt, Jeanette had passed away. She didn't even know she was sick. It was a rare but fast moving cancer that was diagnosed too late. The doctors had very bleak outlook and it wasn't long after that she succumbed to its undesired will.

Some of her family members have been called in to look around and take one item that she had left behind. In her will, she wanted each of her nieces, nephews, children and grandchildren to come in and keep a piece of her. Plus, in her mind, It was a way to keep down the fight and dissension from her worldly belongings. If they had the chance to pick what they want, then they shouldn't have a reason to fight or claim unfairness.

Lydia walked around until she came to her aunt's desk. she remembered as a child how she used to sit across from her aunt and color as she pretended to be managing books like her. Her aunt used to work the finances for her old farm. Since she no longer had livestock, she produced small things like honey, canned fruits and vegetables. She would take them to the market early on Saturday morning and allow the children to help her make samples for the table and help the customers. The smell of the fallen dew hung in the air like freshly washed sheets just hung out to dry in her memories.

Her fingers traced the wood of the chair like a caress of a gentleman caller. It was deft and seemed to not disturb the dust that had begun to gather.

She opened one of the drawers on the side of the desk and felt choked up for a moment. It was her aunt's ledger. I was covered in a delicate blue leather that was strong and supple. It had creases where the front and back covers met with the seems; worn from her aunt's opening and closing of it. It had gold calligraphy letters that said "ledger" on the front. It was elegant but in a rustic way that was just like it's owner.

Removing it; she sat in her aunt's chair while suppressing a weird, melancholy air that passed. Lydia almost got up and went to the other side of the desk but thought against it. She was being paranoid for nothing.

Lydia gingerly unbound the cords that held the book together as there were many loose pages and letters stuffed among its parchment colored innards. As she looked through her aunt's sharp but flowing script, she had to close it. It hit Lydia that she wouldn't see her aunt again or her handwriting. Reaching in the open drawer, she looked for another tissue to dry her eyes. She didn't find one but she felt her fingers brush what felt like a finger hold in the side of it. Gently pulling the drawer out, she noticed that drawer was much shorter that the width of the desk. Hooking her fingernail in more firmly, she slid the panel back. Inside was an envelope with her name written in that familiar scrawl. Her throat choked up again as she ran her fingers across the letters; it was her name wrote in a deep blue that reminded her of her aunt’s slightly hooded eyes.

Before she could open the letter, she heard voices at the end of the hallway. She quickly tucked the envelope inside the front cover of the ledger and redid the bindings. Shutting the drawer and making moves to stand up, she heard the knob begin to turn.

Her cousin Anna stood there like the splitting image of her mom. Rye colored hair that was thick with a slight coarseness that came from constant coloring. Deep cobalt blue eyes that glittered like sapphires in the moonlight. She stood at a tolerable height of five foot, eight inches with a tolerable shape by most beauty standards.

Anna’s eyes looked at Lydia with unshed tears held in their depths. Slowly, her arms came up beckoning Lydia to return the silent request for a hug. She came over with ledger in hand and held her tight. The women stood locked in embrace for several minutes as if making sure the other would not simply wisp away. Time seemed to remind them of other tasks not finished. Lydia gently eased out the warm hug and crossed her arms in front of her chest clutching the blue-bound book to her chest.

Anna gave her a watery smile as the tears fell is a slow march down her splotchy cheeks. “I’m sure she wanted you to have it. Momma knew how you loved the blue of the pad and how she occasionally let you doodle at the top of pages, saying-“ “It’s missing something special here.” They both finished and looked at different spots on the floor.

“It sure is missing something special.” Anna said after a few moments of silent reflection. Lydia’s hazel eyes were red from all the tears shed. They heard a masculine voice come down the hallway calling for her cousin. She shifted to open the door and poked her head out. She gave Anna another look but she saw her tracing her fingers across the spines of the other tomes, eyes closed in reverence.

Lydia slipped out the door and made her way back to her car to look over her treasure. Driving back to her hotel room, the trip seemed like it took only a couple minutes to return. She parked and walked in to the lobby and made her way to the hallway where her room was located.

Stepping into the small but charming room, she toed off her pumps and padded over to the room’s lone wing back chair. Opening the bindings again to the ledger, she extracted the letter once more.

The envelope was worn even though it had been secluded from the drawers contents, safe and sound. Lydia opened it as if it was going to disappear from her hands like snow hitting the warm grounds. Inside was a small, black notepad with an inlay depicting a tree with falling leaves on the bottom corner. The odd thing was that it had four closures in the middle held tight by a wax seal. Out the envelope also tumbled a folded piece of parchment not unlike what in the ledger. Opening and turning the paper the correct way, Lydia's hand came to rest across her full lips.

“To my dearest Lei lei,

I know my end comes closer each day. If you've found this note, I'm gone from the world and my will has been done. Don't make that face at me, butter lump. I came prepared. I left knowing all of my children were taken care of, and you were included in that.

The black notebook in this envelope contains notes on all my canning recipes since you always stayed under my feet in the kitchen. Take this to Kemmit Savings and Loan and look for a woman named Gaelyn. I left a safety deposit box with twenty-thousand dollars for you and she knows why I say this to you.

After your accident as a child, I've always felt you would be special. My own children are no less special but each have found their path and took solid steps on it.

But you, my little Lydia, you were not cut from the cloth of simple colors that worked well in every pattern. You were my chest of quilting scraps. All shapes, sizes and colors. A handful of textures and all have no one thing they are best suited for. But together in the hands of a master, took shape to something that tells stories of rich history and laid bare for all to see. You were shaped in hands of love and patience! Every waking moment you spent in a master's hands, your perfect imperfections cover and warm your very essence.

Our ancestor, Sophie Beaudeau, always said “Trouver ce qui manque” which means 'Find what is missing.' Keep going until you find what is missing from your happiness and hold it tight my butter lump. Don't let them pry it from your hands with out giving a fight they will remember.

Always in your heart,

Aunt Jeanette.”

Lydia's hand trembled as the impact fully made itself known. Her aunt had made sure she wouldn't stress out about her finances. She thought of their last phone call. She told her aunt that she was about to switch jobs and relocate. She had been scared and unsure and as much as she loved her mom, her aunt was better at this type of advice. They had talked until the battery began to die and even after, with the help of phone chargers. Words spoken had assuaged her fears and courted her sense of excitement; all of which her aunt could hear. Her parting words had been “We take care of our own, even when they don't expect it.”

Glad that she had chosen to sit instead of remaining on her feet, she let out a choked sob. All Lydia's strength and composure left in the silence of the room. The people in the pool below her window and the sound of people talking in the next room did nothing to relieve her. Tears trekked down the plump, caramel cheeks leaving salt crusted paths. Her nose ran as she sniffled and swiped at her face. Each cry seemed to dig into her heart and gouge out the emotions she refused to embrace in public.

A short time later, she exhaled a shallow, shaky breath that looked like a petal blown into a spiderweb. Making her way to her room, she slipped out the clothes and pulled on her pajamas. Knowing that she had packed up her tiny apartment of four-hundred square feet, she called it God's plan and Aunt Jeanette's subtle push. After her mom called and told Lydia of her aunt's passing, she packed up her apartment, paid the last month's rent and called her job to quit. In the same breath, she called Bruche & Pettier's Business Solutions and confirmed the position was still open for her to accept. She was asked what changed her mind as she had more time to think the offer through. Her simple reply was “I was told to let go of fear and take a walk on faith.”

Lydia had a long morning ahead of her beginning with a trip to the local bank and a two hour drive to her next destination: St. Lundry. All of this to begin her new career and find what was missing from her happiness.