Sisters' Treasure by Mary Jane Russell

Author:Mary Jane Russell [Russell, Mary Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781935216353
Amazon: 193521635X
Publisher: Intaglio Publications
Published: 2012-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

“I’m glad to see that you do occasionally venture out of the basement.” Mitch stood beneath Tracey in the large gallery on the main floor of the museum. She straddled the top of a twelve-foot stepladder.

Tracey looked over her shoulder. “Isn’t this amazing? Alese found a treasure trove of World War II items donated by local black veterans. All branches of the service are represented. I didn’t even know the boxes were in the collections room.”

Mitch looked at the half-dozen cartons, opened to display uniforms, flags, and Allies and Axis personal effects. “I’m ashamed to admit that the boxes were in a corner behind items that had been catalogued when I took over. I assumed all of it had been accounted for in the database when the job was handed over to me. My bad.”

Alese joined them. She wore an apron over her street clothes. “See there. You thought I was taking naps down there. I knew my father and several of his buddies had given away their collections brought back from Italy and Japan. My mother was superstitious enough not to allow possessions pilfered from dead soldiers to stay in the house after they married. She wasn’t the only wife of a veteran to put her foot down. My father never saw anything wrong with having pocketknives and medals taken as spoils of war.” She held up an elaborate compass. “These are going the way of the slide rule.”

Tracey studied the uniform jacket she was hanging—a short Eisenhower jacket favored by many of the men. “Do you have any photographs of your father? This is going to make a great exhibit to mark the sixty-fifth anniversary of the end of the war.”

“I’ve a few packed away. I’ll check with my brother.” Alese sighed. “There were so many of us to divide my parents’ possessions among that it’s all scattered far and wide by now. I’ve forgotten who ended up with what, and much has been handed on to the next generation, I’m afraid.”

Their conversation paused at the sound of approaching high heels—a faux pas for those who cherished the oak floors of the museum.

“I know what you’ve forgotten.” Harriet stopped short of Mitch, who remained standing protectively at the base of the ladder.

Harriet was dressed for work in a smart linen suit and pale lavender blouse. Her hair was cut above her collar, ends flipping under slightly. Little gray showed in her blond gone to brown hair. She was a stickler for being liberal with hairspray so that not a strand moved out of place during the day. Rory teased her that she didn’t have to worry about him smoking in the house for fear of combusting the remnant aerosol.

“Hey, Mom. What’s up?” Tracey glanced over her shoulder but continued to concentrate on her work.

“Where’s your cell phone?” Harriet asked.

Tracey patted her pocket. “I left it on my desk so I wouldn’t chance crushing it against the ladder. Sorry.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry, too. I needed to talk to you, so I had to take an early lunch.

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