“My first reaction was that it was over a century old too.” Annie couldn’t help staring out the window as she spoke—the highway to Bar Harbor always delighted her with its scenery. “Which leaves me wondering if the box and its contents were already at Grey Gables when Gram and Grandpa bought it. Or did they buy them at an antique store or craft show?”
“Are you sure they’re not part of your family’s history? Maybe the Holdens brought the pieces with them when they moved in,” Kate said.
“I’ve thought about that. But one of the things I loved doing every summer I visited was sitting next to Grandpa while he whittled on the porch of Grey Gables. As he turned the wood in his hands, he would tell me stories about the Holden family. How Justinian Holden had come to New England from Lancashire in England in the early 1630s, and how the family eventually settled in Maine. He told me about all sorts of folks in our family line, some noble and some rascals. He firmly believed there should be no such things as skeletons in the family closet.” Annie sighed. She missed Grandpa.
“Maybe they came from Betsy’s side,” Peggy said, her cheeks now back to their usual hue.
“But Gram was the same way as Grandpa; she liked to tell family stories too, usually while we were picking rose hips or walking on the beach, looking for sea glass. I’d go home chock-full of stories of Gram’s family from Scotland, and I loved it. Mother and Father told me stories too, but mostly stories from their mission work. I simply have a hard time believing that Gram wouldn’t have shared such beautiful artifacts, if they held a place in our family’s history.” Annie missed them all.
Mary Beth smiled up into the rearview mirror and spoke softly, “Yes, you’re right, Annie. Both Betsy and Charlie were like that.”
“They were safe confidants for those who needed someone to talk to,” Alice continued the theme, “but they were open books about themselves.”
“Which leads us right back to a big fat mystery,” Peggy proclaimed.
“I guess we can just pack away the questions until we get to the museum. Hopefully, someone there will have more information that will shed some light.” Annie gathered the photos and poem that Peggy, Gwen and Kate handed her, tucked them back into her tote, and settled down into her seat to soak in the beauty of the small towns, rocky shore and wildflower fields they traveled past.
****
“We’re almost there. I’ve just turned onto Mount Desert Street.” Mary Beth’s voice pried its way into Annie’s reveries. Annie sat up straighter and peered out the window again.
Bar Harbor featured a village green, not much different from Stony Point’s town square, even down to the gazebo shape and color. But Annie had spent enough time in the small Maine town to realize each community had its own unique combination of spirit, history, and personality. Just past the green on the left, Annie saw a red and gold flag waving in front of a white shingle-style building with dark green trim. “Oh, there it is! What a charming building!” she exclaimed.
“The building has the feeling of the summer homes of families like the Vanderbilts or Carnegies, only smaller, doesn’t it?” said Gwen. She closed the book she’d been reading.
“Much smaller.” Kate carefully gathered the crochet she had been working on during the ride and slipped it into a bag. She bent over to slide it under the seat. “But I like it. Makes me wonder what’s hiding in the dormers.”
Peggy started to make her way out of the van but stopped, pointing out the window. “There’s Stella’s Lincoln Continental, heading back down Mount Desert. Looks like Jason has already dropped Stella off.”
“Stella probably hasn’t been here long, then. That’s a relief,” Alice joked, wiping imaginary sweat from her forehead. She slid her purse over a shoulder and jumped out of the SUV.
The group walked past the stone and metal museum sign. The bright flag swayed in the soft breeze. Peggy stopped to watch it for a moment. “The red and gold on the flag really pops. Whatever design I find, I hope those colors will work with it.”
“I’m partial to how they created the logo with the cutouts in metal,” said Kate. “The tree would lend itself beautifully to crochet.”
Annie paused to say over her shoulder, “Kate, just about anything would end up beautiful if you made it in crochet. And I’m not just saying that so you’ll teach me new techniques.” Kate smiled her thanks.
Entering the museum, the first person they saw was Stella. She stood before the admissions desk, deep in discussion with the young woman behind it. A broad smile on her face, the woman handed Stella a small stack of brochures. Stella nodded her thanks and then turned to greet the other Hook and Needle Club members.