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Authors: Valerie Sherrard

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BOOK: Searching for Yesterday
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“Hey, that's a great idea!” Annie's enthusiasm almost made me feel guilty, but I reminded myself that I've come across information in less likely places. It couldn't hurt, and I was quickly running out of ideas. At least this would give us something to do.

Mrs. Norton was going to the grocery store, so she dropped us off, reminding us as we got out of the car to be home by five-thirty for dinner.

The flower shop's windows were crowded with plants and different flower arrangements. Beyond that
we could see a couple of women chatting near a counter. I pushed the heavy wooden door open and we went in while a bell tinkled overhead.

At the sound of the bell, both women looked over at Annie and I. One looked to be in her early thirties, short and slight with short, dirty-blond hair. The other was probably closer to forty, a good deal taller and a little heavier, with her brown hair tied loosely in a ponytail.

As quickly as they registered the fact that it was just a couple of teenagers who'd come in, they went back to talking to each other, though both kept a sharp eye out in our direction. I don't know if they thought we might try to stuff a cactus under our jackets or what, but I found it insulting to be watched that way. I had to remind myself that we were there for Annie's sake. Otherwise, I'd just have walked out.

The tall woman turned toward us as we neared the counter and said, “Can I help you?” in a flat voice.

“Yes, good morning,” I answered, forcing myself to sound pleasant. “We were looking for some information on the store that was here before the flower shop opened up. A craft place.”

“What kind of information?”

“Well, the name of the owner, if you happen to remember it,” I said. I hoped that she'd want to prove her memory was good — that might motivate her to tell us even if she wasn't inclined to be helpful.

“What for?” she asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“What do you need to know that for?” she repeated. Her eyes narrowed.

“I'm trying to find someone who knew my mother,” Annie said. “She used to work at the craft store.”

“Oh yeah? What was your mother's name?”

That was too much for me. The nerve of her, expecting Annie to offer personal information when she was too snooty to give us a store owner's name.

“What do
you
need to know that for?” I asked, repeating the question she'd posed to us.

She gave me a long, hard look. Then she said, “A smart mouth, huh? Well, I'd say it's about time you girls left, wouldn't you?”

We left. As soon as we hit the sidewalk I turned to Annie. “I'm really sorry,” I said. “I messed that up badly.”

“Don't worry about it. She wasn't going to help us anyway.” Annie smiled to prove she wasn't upset. Then she asked, “So, what do we do next?”

“We'll ask the people in the stores on either side,” I said. “They're likely to know who owned the craft shop.”

There was a place on the left called Inkpen & Harmony, which we tried first. It turned out to be an insurance office. There were three desks in an open room but only one was occupied — by a man who was on the phone. He looked over, smiled, held a finger up to show us he'd just be a minute, and pointed us to some chairs
along the wall. We'd hardly sat in them when he finished the call.

“So, what can I do for you ladies?” he said from across the room. He motioned us toward him and we obediently moved from the chairs by the wall to a couple in front of his desk.

“Chris Inkpen,” he said, introducing himself. He shook our hands and when we told him our names. He said, “Nice to meet you Shelby. Nice to meet you too, Annie.”

“We're not here to buy insurance,” I said, feeling a little guilty for wasting his time when he was being so nice.

“Great!” he answered. “It's about time I had a break for a few minutes.”

We explained what we wanted to know.

“Hmm. Can't say I know that,” he said, tilting his chair back and putting his hands behind his head. “But hang on a sec. I can probably find out.”

He pulled a phone from his shirt pocket and pressed a button. A few seconds later, someone answered and Chris asked for the name. He gave us a thumbs-up and leaned forward to make some notes.

“Here you go, ladies. I wish everything was as easy as that,” he said, passing us the paper. “It seems the previous owner's daughter took over the place from her mother and turned the craft store into a flower shop. I've written it down, but my boss said the daughter —
her name is Kayla Fulton — should be able to answer any questions you have about when her mother owned the place, because she worked there then, too.”

Hearts sinking, we thanked him for his help and left. Standing on the sidewalk a moment later we looked at each other in dismay.

“Let's just forget it,” Annie said. “What are the chances we'd have found out anything from her anyway?”

“We can't forget it,” I said, though I really wanted to agree with her and leave. “That woman almost certainly worked with your mother at the craft store. We've got to go back in there and at least try.”

Annie shrugged. She looked about as enthusiastic as I felt when we pushed the door open and stepped back inside the flower shop. I was putting together an apology in my head when the short woman, who was now alone at the counter, yelled out, “Hey, Kayla! Those two girls are back!”

Kayla came running from the back room where the flowers were stored. Annie and I froze in place, too stunned to respond to the strange reaction.

“We, uh, I ...,” I stammered. Kayla cut me off, her attention focused on Annie.

“Are you Gina Berkley's girl?”

Annie's mouth fell open. She seemed unable to answer, but at least she had the presence of mind to nod.

“I realized it right after you left!” Kayla said. She came around the counter and threw her arms around
Annie's shoulders. “You've got your mother's eyes, sure as I'm standing here.”

“Then ... you worked with my mom?” Annie asked.

“Worked with her! Heck, your mom and I were best friends for thirteen years.”

C
HAPTER
T
EN

When Kayla let go of her, Annie gasped and staggered sideways a little. I reached for her arm, thinking she was about to faint, but if she'd been light-headed she recovered quickly.

“Did you baby-sit me sometimes when I was little?” she gasped, “and give me horsy-back rides?”

“I sure did,” Kayla agreed, laughing. “You always wanted me to jump over things like the horses on television did, and you couldn't understand why I wouldn't.”

“I thought you looked kind of familiar,” Annie said. “But it's been a long time. And your hair is totally different. Didn't it used to be red?”

“I coloured it dark cherry for a long time, but I went back to my natural brown shade after my ex and I split,” Kayla said.

I don't know about Annie, but I
never
know what to say when someone tells me they've broken up with their
boyfriend. If you say you're sorry, you're sure to hear about how dumping that loser was the smartest thing they ever did, but if you say it's probably for the best, you're likely to be passing the Kleenex for the next hour.

Of course, this was different. For one thing, it was an adult, and for another, we had no idea if the break-up happened last month or three years ago. But it didn't matter anyway, because there was no chance for an awkward silence. Kayla was already talking again.

“You said you were looking for your mother when you were here a bit earlier, right?”

Annie told her that was right and asked if we could run a few questions by her.

“I'll be glad to help out any way I can,” Kayla said. She skittered a glance my way. I tried to look friendly, but she didn't speak to me. Instead, she turned back to Annie and said, “This isn't a good place to talk, though. All we have are the storefront, the flower room, and a bathroom. Let's walk over to Tim's.”

We did, and in short order we were seated at a table in the corner with coffees that Kayla had bought for everyone.

“So, what would you like to know?” she asked. She glanced around furtively, like a secret agent might be at the next table, trying to listen in.

Annie filled her in, briefly, on how she'd never heard from her mother again after she and Lenny went to the city.

“Lenny,” Kayla said. She made his name sound like some kind of horrible disease. “I never liked him. It was his fault that your mom and I quit hanging out.”

“What didn't you like about him?” I asked.

“Be quicker to tell you what I
did
like, which was basically nothing. He was arrogant and pushy — he was always telling Gina what to do and she'd just go along with whatever he said. He took over every last thing in her life: where she went, with whom, what she wore, what she ate. Control freak. It got so that Gina had to ask Lenny about everything. She was crazy for the guy, at least at the beginning, but I couldn't figure it.”

“Did things change?” I asked. “You said she was crazy for him at the beginning.”

“I don't really know, not for sure. I saw her not long before he dragged her on out of town, and she said she was thinking hard about going back to school, which was something Lenny never wanted her to do. He couldn't stand the idea of her being more educated than him, if you ask me. I took it as a good sign — that she was finally starting to stand up to the creep — but I guess it was just talk.”

“Was that the last time you saw my mother?” Annie wanted to know.

“Far as I can remember,” Kayla said. She sighed and her face grew sad. “I should have handled the whole thing with Lenny differently. If I could've just learned
to shut my mouth about him ... well, she might have told me her plans, or gotten in touch again sometime over the years. But not me. I always had to be flapping my yap, telling her he was this and that and saying she should get rid of him.”

Kayla rummaged in her purse and pulled out a package of mints. She popped one in her mouth and went on.

“I'll tell you girls one thing: you see a friend with a guy who's no good, tread carefully! A woman will turn her back on her friends faster than she will on a guy she's in love with — or thinks she is. But anyway, enough of that. You had some questions?”

“Did my mom use drugs?” Annie asked.

“Huh. I wasn't expecting that,” Kayla admitted. “Did she use drugs? Not the way you're asking, I don't think. I mean, when we were kids your age ... if someone was passing around a joint, she'd take a hit. But she was never what you'd call a doper, and I never knew her to touch anything after you came along. Why?”

“I thought it might be a reason, you know, that she never came back.”

“Well, it's not impossible,” Kayla said. “I mean, Lenny had so much influence over her, I could see her trying something because he pressured her to, and there's some pretty addictive stuff out there.”

“I hope that didn't happen,” Annie said softly.

“You and me both,” said Kayla.

“I'd rather think she just turned her back on everyone, including me, and started a new life. Maybe she met someone really great and she didn't want to tell him she had a kid, and they got married and had their own family and ....” She stopped there, barely holding back the tears.

“It must be rough,” Kayla said, reaching a hand over and patting Annie's arm. “And it's the last thing I'd have expected from Gina. I thought she was a pretty good mom, really. Of course, I hadn't seen much of her for the last couple of years she was around here, but when you were little she just doted on you. Only thing I can figure is that Lenny persuaded her to leave in the first place, and then things happened that kept her away. I'll never believe she left with the plan that she wasn't coming back for you.”

“For years after she left, I used to fantasize about her showing up and having some really great reason for being gone so long.” Annie blew her nose into a tissue and forced a smile.

“I imagined all sorts of crazy things. She'd been sent on a secret spy mission, or maybe she'd been abducted by aliens. Then, as I got older, the things I came up with were a little less off-the-wall. Like, I thought maybe she'd been injured and had been in a coma, or got a blow to the head and had amnesia.” Annie rolled her eyes. “I finally stopped making excuses for her a few years ago. But I still wonder.”

“Sure you do, Annie,” Kayla said. “You wanna know the truth? I do, too. I mean, why she never came back for you, of course, but I wondered how she just completely forgot about our friendship that way, too. Even though things went kind of bad between us, we'd been friends for all those years. Ever since junior high school, we'd been inseparable — until Lenny came along. We knew each other's secrets and fears and hopes — all the stuff best friends tell each other. It was hard to believe that it all went down the drain over a guy, or that she could just up and leave without so much as saying goodbye.”

“That's one of the hardest things for me,” Annie said. She raised her head and looked right at Kayla. “That she never said goodbye. I mean, she knew, that last morning, that she was leaving. Maybe she even knew she wasn't coming back. But even if she planned to at that point, you'd think she'd have wanted to say or do something special, something for me to remember and hang on to when she was gone.”

“And she didn't?”

“She wasn't even there,” Annie said. Bitterness had crept into her voice for the first time during the conversation. “When I got up, she'd gone to pick up her pay cheque at work. She could at least have waited until I'd left for school to do that. And then, when I came home, the note was there and she was gone.”

BOOK: Searching for Yesterday
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