Union Street Bakery (9781101619292) by Taylor Mary Ellen

Author:Taylor, Mary Ellen
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin USA
Published: 2012-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I read the journal six times,” Margaret said. “Incredible.”

“So what happened?” I leaned back in my office chair, grateful to see Margaret. The cavalry had arrived and saved me from Mom’s questions.

“What are you two talking about?” Mom asked.

“The journal Miss Mabel gave to Daisy,” Margaret said.

Mom arched a neatly plucked brow. “Mabel gave Daisy a journal?”

I filled her in on the details, which only seemed to make her frown deepen. “Why would she do that?”

“We’ve no idea,” Margaret said.

“Mom, did Mabel ever say anything about me?”

Mom shook her head. “She showed an interest in all my girls.”

“She ever say anything about my birth mother? Did she ever mention Terry, perhaps?”

“No. Why on earth would she know anything about her?”

I rose from my office chair and worked some of the stiffness from my hips and legs. “She said the day before she died that she’d once seen me with my other mama.”

Mom peered over her glasses. “I don’t know how she could have. We ran a couple of articles in the paper looking for her and no one said a word. And I know Mabel read that paper cover to cover every day of her life. She would have said something to me.”

I searched her face looking for any sign of shift or concern that might hint to a lie. I know Mom would never lie to be cruel but she’d deceive to protect. “She never said a word?”

She peered at me, her gaze hardening with a hint of annoyance. “Honey, I would have told you about something as important as that.”

“I’ve seen you forget to tell Dad details that he was happier not knowing.”

She waved away the comment. “Your father is different. He really is happier not knowing how much I spent on a purse or a new mixer. Or if one of you girls failed a test or got a tiny ding in the fender. I know you like to know things, but Daddy is happy not knowing.”

Margaret cleared her throat. “So does anyone want to hear what I have to say?”

My gaze lingered on Mom, and hers on me, until we both reached some kind of silent accord. If Miss Mabel had known about my birth mother, then she had not shared the secret with my mother. And of course, this was all supposing that Miss Mabel wasn’t totally senile toward the end and hadn’t mistaken old articles she’d read for memories.

Shoving out a breath, I shifted my body toward Margaret. “Yes, please tell us what you have found.”

She grinned, glad to have the floor. “I’ve been doing some digging.”

“And?”

“First, let me read you the entries. It won’t take long.”

“Sure.”

Margaret gave me a recap of some of the events in the young girl’s life but the entry that stuck with me the most I read for myself:

I saw Emma today at the bakery. She spoke to Seymour, who manages the shop. I overheard her say that her brothers were sold yesterday at Bruin’s to a man who owns a plantation in South Carolina.

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