chest she gave you up to your room?”
I shook my head. Even in the gloom of the night garden, he saw my gesture. Quietly, he asked, “Have you opened it yet?”
I sighed. “No.”
“Why not?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer the question because to be honest, I didn’t know. I’d looked at the hope chest so many times. I’d traced T. P. E. again and again.
I finally said, “Piper wrote me a journal that’s in there, along with presents she’d bought me over the years. She wrote the journal so that I’d know her. But that’s not how I want to find out about her. I want her to tell me. I want to hang out with her and get to know her in person like I’m getting to know Fiona and Ned and you. If I read the journal, it’s like I’m admitting she’ll never be around for me to get to know in person.”
Logan didn’t make light of my feelings. He simply reached over and pulled me into his arms. “I have an idea.”
I was tired. Too tired to come up with any new ideas of my own. Jaylin knew me well enough that she was sending me only minimal work. I knew that meant she was picking up the slack, but I was too tired to argue with that, too.
“What’s your idea?”
“Come out with me tomorrow.”
For one second I thought he was asking me on a date, but then he added, “I’m volunteering at Ms. Pip’s food pantry. It’s been a few years since Ms. Pip’s been well enough to run things. Cooper has taken over the management, and a lot of Ms. Pip’s kids have volunteered to help.”
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
I would like to see the food pantry that Piper had opened in my name.
“And, Siobhan, you should open the chest.”
I tugged at the locket I still wore daily around my neck. “I will, just not yet.”
We sat quietly for a long time.
There was something soothing about the garden. The leaves rustled. I’d never thought about it, but the sound of leaves changes. In the summer, there’s a soft brushing noise when they rub together in the breeze. Like a cotton shirt that brushes against the closet door as you take it out. But now, as we approached mid-September, the leaves weren’t as lush and soft as they had been. They were tired and changing colors. It was as if they sent all the vibrancy into that change, and afterward they were simply tired and dried out. The sound they made was louder, and I knew as the season progressed and they dried out more, they would become louder yet. Would I still be here to witness that change?
The harder question was, would Piper still be here?
The next day, I went over to Piper’s early. Fiona was still asleep, so I made myself at home. It was easier now. I didn’t feel like such an interloper.
I started to do some basic chores. I wasn’t sure where things went. If I couldn’t make an educated guess, then I piled them up on the table at the bottom of the stairs, hoping Fiona would take care of them.
She did. She took a pile of clean clothes upstairs, and then she came down with a huge box.
“Hey, we’re cleaning up, not getting out,” I teased.
She laughed. “This is going next door with you.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I asked Mom about getting you copies of her newer books. She said that there are older ones in the chest, but it was full, so she started a box in the attic. She told me where to find it and . . .” She thrust the heavy box into my arms. “Here.”
I set it down and opened it. There was a copy of The Marshmallow Coat . The picture on the cover was of a girl with dark braids wearing a vibrant yellow coat that did look remarkably marshmallow-esque.
“Open it,” Fiona said.
I did. On the dedication page it read, “For Ned, Siobhan, and Fiona.” Underneath in her handwriting was a note.
Dear Siobhan,
I hope you’ve never been hungry or cold. I hope your life has been filled with laughter, warmth , and love. Know you’ll always have a home here.
Piper
I closed the book, put it back in the box, and
I shook my head. Even in the gloom of the night garden, he saw my gesture. Quietly, he asked, “Have you opened it yet?”
I sighed. “No.”
“Why not?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer the question because to be honest, I didn’t know. I’d looked at the hope chest so many times. I’d traced T. P. E. again and again.
I finally said, “Piper wrote me a journal that’s in there, along with presents she’d bought me over the years. She wrote the journal so that I’d know her. But that’s not how I want to find out about her. I want her to tell me. I want to hang out with her and get to know her in person like I’m getting to know Fiona and Ned and you. If I read the journal, it’s like I’m admitting she’ll never be around for me to get to know in person.”
Logan didn’t make light of my feelings. He simply reached over and pulled me into his arms. “I have an idea.”
I was tired. Too tired to come up with any new ideas of my own. Jaylin knew me well enough that she was sending me only minimal work. I knew that meant she was picking up the slack, but I was too tired to argue with that, too.
“What’s your idea?”
“Come out with me tomorrow.”
For one second I thought he was asking me on a date, but then he added, “I’m volunteering at Ms. Pip’s food pantry. It’s been a few years since Ms. Pip’s been well enough to run things. Cooper has taken over the management, and a lot of Ms. Pip’s kids have volunteered to help.”
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
I would like to see the food pantry that Piper had opened in my name.
“And, Siobhan, you should open the chest.”
I tugged at the locket I still wore daily around my neck. “I will, just not yet.”
We sat quietly for a long time.
There was something soothing about the garden. The leaves rustled. I’d never thought about it, but the sound of leaves changes. In the summer, there’s a soft brushing noise when they rub together in the breeze. Like a cotton shirt that brushes against the closet door as you take it out. But now, as we approached mid-September, the leaves weren’t as lush and soft as they had been. They were tired and changing colors. It was as if they sent all the vibrancy into that change, and afterward they were simply tired and dried out. The sound they made was louder, and I knew as the season progressed and they dried out more, they would become louder yet. Would I still be here to witness that change?
The harder question was, would Piper still be here?
The next day, I went over to Piper’s early. Fiona was still asleep, so I made myself at home. It was easier now. I didn’t feel like such an interloper.
I started to do some basic chores. I wasn’t sure where things went. If I couldn’t make an educated guess, then I piled them up on the table at the bottom of the stairs, hoping Fiona would take care of them.
She did. She took a pile of clean clothes upstairs, and then she came down with a huge box.
“Hey, we’re cleaning up, not getting out,” I teased.
She laughed. “This is going next door with you.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I asked Mom about getting you copies of her newer books. She said that there are older ones in the chest, but it was full, so she started a box in the attic. She told me where to find it and . . .” She thrust the heavy box into my arms. “Here.”
I set it down and opened it. There was a copy of The Marshmallow Coat . The picture on the cover was of a girl with dark braids wearing a vibrant yellow coat that did look remarkably marshmallow-esque.
“Open it,” Fiona said.
I did. On the dedication page it read, “For Ned, Siobhan, and Fiona.” Underneath in her handwriting was a note.
Dear Siobhan,
I hope you’ve never been hungry or cold. I hope your life has been filled with laughter, warmth , and love. Know you’ll always have a home here.
Piper
I closed the book, put it back in the box, and
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