The Memory Keeper: A Heartwarming, Feel-Good Romance(53)







It was just like Gran to have a suggestion for how to save a little money on the arrangements by thinking outside the box. She read the last two sentences again, her own memories of dancing with Gran in The Memory Keeper to songs from the old record player surfacing. Hannah turned the page and scanned the next entry.

June 18, 1943



I haven’t been sleeping very well lately. I keep thinking about the grievance flowers I’ve been delivering—there are so, so many… My evenings stretch all the way to nightfall, delivering to family after family, and knowing that all of them have lost someone important to them. I am met with tears over and over, and it’s terribly taxing. But I love working in the flower shop so much that I’ve been asking around to see if I can find a place in a nearby town where I could open my own business. The idea seems too daunting at times, and it’s probably never going to happen, but I feel something niggling in my gut, telling me that my frustrations about the life I’m leading right now are the whispers that I’m not where I’m supposed to be yet.





Hannah read that last line again, the hairs on her arms standing up. She’d never considered that before. Gran had gone on to open that flower shop she’d thought about, and all her talk about being on the right path was starting to hit home.

Hannah’s phone sounded with a text. Georgia was asking to be picked up at the records office. She closed the journal and headed out of the room, taking the journal with her. She couldn’t wait to hear how Gran had gotten from Kentucky to Tennessee, where she’d open her own floral shop. It all gave Hannah hope that there might actually be another path waiting for her in life. And if so, could she find it?

She got into her dad’s truck and drove across town to the public records office, where she reached across the seat to unlatch the door for Georgia.

“Find out anything new?” she asked.

“Nope. Nothin’,” Georgia said. “I feel like they’re so close and yet so far.”

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said. “Give it time. Someone has to know them. Maybe I can show Gran your photos when I go to see her again.”

“Yeah,” Georgia agreed, but the disappointment on her face was clear.

They drove to The Memory Keeper. It was time to get the shop ready to close. As Hannah made her way there, she knew that, just like Georgia’s nameless photos, there was no easy answer for The Memory Keeper or Gran.





Nineteen





“What’s that going around the ceiling?” Georgia asked, pointing up to the lone rail that lined one wall of The Memory Keeper.

“I’m not sure,” Hannah replied. “As a kid, I never really noticed it. I’ll have to ask Gran.”

“Hm.” Georgia gazed up at it.

Hannah went over to the counter and dropped a new box of file folders and the journal onto it, taking a sip of her to-go coffee they’d gotten on the way and assessing the mess.

“I suppose we should start to get rid of what we don’t need and pack up the rest,” she said, overwhelmed by the task at hand. “We’ll get the shop looking as good as it can be while it’s still open, but keep the inventory minimal. Then when we finally close, we’ll have less to get rid of.”

“Sounds good,” Georgia said. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Let’s sort all these papers. I’ll label the files and put them over against the wall, then hand you a document and tell you which file to put it in. Once we get all this organized, we can start cleaning and painting.”

“Yes,” Georgia said. But then she stopped, running her fingers over the journal. “Whose is this?”

“My gran’s. She gave it to me to read for my birthday.”

“Have you started it yet?”

“Yes. It’s really interesting. Her boyfriend is missing in the Second World War, and she’s working at this factory she hates and delivering flowers in the evening.”

“Wow. Sounds like she’s had an interesting life.”

“Should we read an entry before we get started?” Hannah asked, dying for any chance to procrastinate and dig back into Gran’s life.

“Absolutely!” Georgia hopped up on the counter, scooting the papers out of the way, and sipped her coffee.

Hannah picked up the journal and opened it. She began to read.

June 23, 1943



It was incredibly hot yesterday. But I didn’t have to worry. Mama got together with her friends in the neighborhood last week, and they all sewed us new clothes. Mama used the pillowcases we have to make us all shorts for the summer as a surprise. She even reused the lace and sewed it to the collar of one of my shirts, creating a matching outfit that is just tops. It felt so light and airy that I asked if I could take a walk down to the soda fountain yesterday, and I saw Warren! I hadn’t planned to stay so long with having to go to work the next morning, but I told him all about Charles, and it was so nice to have someone who understands and listens. I confessed to him how much I hate working at the metal factory and how it really does get my spirits down, even though I’m so thankful to have employment. Warren asked me if I’d come back tomorrow. He said he’d buy me a Coke.



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