Lost Girl 1. Chapter 1

_**Some say if a love is strong enough, it can overcome the physical obstructions placed in its way, it can transcend space and time together. That love, a true love, is the most powerful force a human has to offer the world and themselves. I never thought that to be true, nor did I want to believe it. Until I wanted to meet her so much, I broke all the barriers set before me. My love for her was the most powerful thing I had ever met or allowed in myself. It all started with a creaking floor board in my grandmother's house.**_

Standing in front of the old house, it still looked as good as the last time I had been here. Close to twenty years ago. I loved this little white cottage tucked up on the hills in Nantucket, the ocean wind had worn down the paint lightly with the mix of ocean salt it would carry up and out of the water, cascading down on to the cottage.

The white wooden siding mixed with the faded blue shutters always gave me a sense of home whenever I stood on the front path that led up to my grandmothers cottage. I hefted the bags in my hand and took steps towards the front door. It had been a long flight down from the city I called home to my childhood summer home.

I smiled as I stopped in front of the worn dark blue door with the same welcome sign with sailboats and shells that I had given my grandmother for her birthday when I was seven. I set my bags down and dug into the manila envelope that held the keys and all the other paperwork I needed to prove I was now the owner of this small cottage. I dumped the keys out and slid the key into the lock. Lifting up on the doorknob as I unlocked the door, pushing it open I expected a dusty, dank interior. Instead I was welcomed with the warmth of old memories mixed with the early morning sun pushing through the windows that faced the gentle cape.

I dropped my bags by the front door and walked towards the back deck, twirling the keys on my fingers as my boots made soft creaking noises as I walked across the old wooden floor. I could not hold back the small smile that crept up as with every step, more of the good memories of my time here filled my head and my heart.

I pushed open the old door that led me out onto the old deck that faced the amazing ocean view, the old Adirondack chairs where exactly as they had been all of my life. I stood and let the gentle breeze the morning offered, sift through my hair as I took deep breaths. Trying to clear out the rest of the city smells and memories I had eagerly left behind. After what felt like a few hours of staring out into the water, I pushed off the doorframe and walked back inside.

I picked up the thick manila envelope and dumped out the rest of the contents, there was the deed to the cottage and the land around it my grandmother owned. Including was a copy of her will and the last letter she left for me. I smiled as I read my name at the top of the letter I had read a million times in the last few months since my grandmother passed away. I had been named after her and I was certain because of that one fact, it was why she and I became pretty much inseparable until I moved to Toronto to find myself five years ago.

I ran my fingers over the top of the letter, smiling as I read the gentle handwriting of the woman, "Dear Ysabeau, my favorite granddaughter..." I laughed out loud, I was her only granddaughter, but she always made an effort to tell me I would always be her favorite. I set the letter down as I scanned over her last words too me and felt my heart ache at the fact I had been so distant in the last five years and allowed my self-created sadness pull me further away from the one woman who made me who I was today.

It took the last final heartbreak of my fiancé cheating on me too pack up my life one night and fly back to the states, running to the one place I felt the most love and the most at ease with myself.

I folded my arms, hearing the gentle creak of my leather jacket as I walked around the house, checking out the state it was in, my grandmother's lawyer had told me that in the last few years, she had rented out a room to a grad student or two trying to escape the mental strain of school. She had always been present until the last year when she moved into the hospice, she rented the house out to one student that had been named in her will for receiving the large collection of books my grandmother always had around her. I walked around the living room, smiling at how very little changed in the years I had been gone. I walked upstairs; checking on the spare room she had rented out, it was clean and obvious that those who stayed here cared for the room as much as my grandmother. I moved to the master bedroom and sighed as the room was the perfect spot in the entire house. Large peaked ceilings was highlighted by a large floor to ceiling window that gave even a more spectacular view of the ocean and the cliffs that I knew I could easily lose myself in.

All of the furniture was present and untouched, I looked at the massive canopied bed that I had spent many a night lying with my grandmother as she read to me from one of her many books. The only thing that was missing was the books on the bookshelves that lined the walls of her room. It was apparent the student had taken the books as soon as they could, I sighed, wishing I had been a little more of sound mind to respond as soon as I heard of my grandmothers passing. I could have at least saved the one book I loved the most. I continued through the upstairs, finding everything to be in working order. I walked back downstairs and picked up my bags, lugging them back up to the spare room and to the master bedroom.

As I dumped one of my bags of random things, I felt the floor board underneath me creak and shift. I kicked at it with my boot, noting that it was extremely loose and I would have to fix it. I smiled at the idea of getting my hands dirty with fixing the house up and brightening it even more.

I spent the rest of the morning unpacking and sorting my things out, I was staying at the cottage indefinitely, perhaps permanently. I no longer had anything or anyone to go anywhere for. I changed out of my tight black jeans, hung up my leather jacket and tossed my boots into the closet. Opting for comfortable pajama pants I walked back down to the kitchen to make coffee. I was excited that I had everything I needed to make a simple cup of coffee all the way up to a full meal. The lawyer had ensured that the cottage would be stocked with food when I called and told him I would be living there.

I held the cup of coffee in my hands, loving the heat it sent through my hands and my body. I went to go sit on the deck when I heard my phone ring upstairs, I let out a sigh. I had forgotten to call my best friend the moment I arrived at the front door, she was now panicking since it was four hours past my arrival time. I set the cup down and ran upstairs, moving to the spare room where I had set my purse down. I dug around and grabbed my phone as it vibrated and rang in the pockets.

I smiled as I answered, "You are worse than my mother."

"I will kick your ass worse than your mother ever did if you don't check in at the time we agreed, I was worried your plane crashed or you were taken away by a swarm of sea crabs." Kenzi huffed on the other line as I pictured her pacing up and down the length of her tiny apartment we once shared.

I sat on the edge of the bed, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging over the dresser. I looked tired; life had made me tired in the last few months. I ran a hand over my hair and cringed at the dark circles that made my brown eyes look darker. "I got lost in unpacking and checking out the house."

"Is it as magical as you described it Bo Bo?"

I smiled, "Even more, I missed this place. I think it's exactly what I need to start my life over." I leaned on my knees, "You are still coming down next month, right?"

"Heck yes, I will not be able to go for long without my best friend! Plus I want to see the ocean and lighthouses and eat crabs." Kenzi began talking excitedly as she rambled about food like she always did.

I stood up, smiling and laughing at the constant energy my best friend had. I walked towards the door to head back to my coffee, when I tripped on a floorboard and stumbled, "Ow, shit." I leaned against the wall, rubbing my stubbed toe and looking for the culprit. It was a pushed up floorboard that was almost under the bed. I mumbled to Kenzi as she continued telling me about her last few nights at work and how many times she was groped. I got down on my hands and knees and pulled at the floorboard, wanting to rip it out for the shock of anger it sent through my body. The floorboard pulled up easily and when I held the board up, I could tell someone had pried it up on purpose. I frowned, suddenly wondering if it was one of the students, trying to hide whatever weed they were hiding from my grandmother. I looked down into the gap and caught a glimpse of something white.

I reached my hand in and felt it was an envelope, thick with at least a few pages inside. I pulled it out and read in the most scribbled but oddly beautiful handwriting, "To the heart I lost." I squinted at it, the paper was faded, yellowed and looked to be at least a few years old. I held it, flipping it around, deciding if I should open it and take a chance that it wasn't a suicide note or some sort of weird manifesto.

"Huh? Yea, Kenz, I am listening. I just smashed my foot on an old floorboard." I sighed as Kenzi returned to rambling. I grabbed the board and set it back in place, I then stood up and held onto the letter as I walked back to the kitchen. Setting the letter down next to the coffee, I stared at it. It was drawing me in, the more I stared at the swirls and edges of the handwriting. I opened my mouth to interrupt Kenzi when I heard a knock at my front door, I turned to look at the door, "Hey Kenzi, can I call you back, there is someone at the front door. I promise I will call you before I go to bed, yes, and I will text you when I get up, and yes I will send pictures of the townsfolk and crabs I find in town." I smiled at her random yet normal for her requests. I smiled, "I love you too, Kenzi."

I let out a sigh of relief as I set my phone down and headed to answer the second knock that was echoing through the house. I looked through the small window; it was just the mail man. I opened the door smiling, "Hi Tom."

The mail man was the same old mail man that I remember as a kid. Tom had to be close to a hundred years old, since he was old when I was little. Tom had white hair and his uniform was always pristine, he smiled wide when he saw me, "Little Ysabeau? Is that you?"

I nodded as I held onto the door, "It is, not so little anymore though." I half smiled at him, "Still on the old route, I see."

Tom held his smile and nodded, "Almost thirty years and haven't missed a day." he pulled out a small box, holding it out too me, "I am sorry about your grandmother, she was quite a lady. I was surprised to see a package for this address, I was certain the last woman who was here had moved out months and months ago." I took the package and signed for it. Looking at the package made my heart twinge when I recognized my grandmother's handwriting.

I held the package close to my heart as Tom finished up, he winked at me, "Good to have you home and in this house, I will see you tomorrow Ysabeau." he turned to walk away and stopped, looking back, "If you need anything, let me know. I still live in the old yellow house down the street." he smiled and tipped his hat to me before disappearing behind the trees that lined the small street.

I closed the door, still holding the package close to my chest. I set it down on the counter, I wasn't ready to open it, and I still had a hard time with losing the one woman who I sought so much strength in. I just ran my fingers over the elegant handwriting that was always my favorite part of my grandmother and the letters she would write me all the way till the end. I picked up my coffee cup, my eyes falling back onto the yellowed envelope. I picked it up and held it against the light, there was pages full of words.

I bit my lip and walked out onto the deck, the ocean air filling me up. I sat in one of the wooden chairs and hesitated for a moment before talking myself into opening the letter. I owned the house, so technically I owned whatever I found in it, right? That was a good enough excuse. I set my cup down on the arm of the chair and ran a finger under the flap. It opened easily and I gently pulled out the thin sheets of paper.

Unfolding them, I swallowed at the amount of words that filled every page. The handwriting was not my grandmothers, but I could tell it wasn't a man's handwriting either, there was something so delicate and elegant about the penmanship, that led me to believe it was a woman.

I glossed over the first sentence and by the second paragraph, I returned to the beginning and started over, reading slower this time.

"_In constant search of solitude, and I find it. I find it doesn't suit me as much as I hoped. I love the ocean here, the lovely older woman who has entrusted me with her home as she fails ill. Perhaps it's her illness that has me looking at myself and the life I have chosen. Alone, broken hearted and consumed by a mission I cannot recall why I started, maybe it was for love. But in the end it was love that broke me and set my feet running the furthermost away from any sense of hope and love."_

The letter continued on, it was obvious the writer was intelligent as words flowed seamlessly. I felt my heart breaking for this person as they wrote their heart and heartache out onto the pages before me. I had to bite my lip as I read the last page,

"_So I pour my heart out on empty pages, hoping along the way I can find my way back to something that resembles happiness. But again, I do intend to tuck this letter into the floorboards where no one will ever see it, nor will I. Maybe that is what I need, to find hope in knowing no one will know the pain I put myself through as love continues to escape me day after day._

_To whomever may come across this, if you read this, please take all of my ramblings as my gentle advice to find a love that you will fight for and hold onto it, never lose the things that make you human and happy. Life and love is far too precious to ignore._

_-L"_

I set the last page down; my eyes were glassy from the sense of heartbreak in the words. It did put in perspective what I was going through. It was as if the writer and I had experienced the same loss, I wanted to hug whoever it was on these pages and let them know they weren't alone.

My fiancé had cheated on me and I caught him. The worst of it all was he cheated on me with someone I called a friend, someone I trusted to pour my heart out about my relationship issues; she used that to gain ground with my fiancé. I picked up and ran from the entire heart ache and loss of trust I experienced.

I sighed and looked at the date scribbled in the corner of the first page. It was dated almost two years ago. I folded the letter and tucked it back up into the envelope. I held it tightly as I watched the waves in the distant.

Something struck me, I shot up from my chair and ran back into the house, I ran to the desk next to the front door and pulled out the notepad and other stationary bits that my grandmother always kept there. I sat down at the kitchen island and scribbled down everything that was in my heart, just like the one whose letter sat close to me. I wrote and wrote, as if I was writing back to them, letting them know they weren't alone, sharing my story of how I had loved and lost and did the same thing. Before I knew it, I had filled five pages and my entire being felt light. I shoved the pages into the envelope, sealing it and setting it down in front of me. I smiled as I wrote on the front, "To the heart I will find again."

I picked up the letter and walked upstairs; I pulled up the floorboard and shoved my letter in the spot. I smiled as I set the board back and walked into the bathroom to take a long bath. Before I did, I moved the yellowed letter that inspired my own start to healing, next to my bed. I tapped it once before I left the room to run the bath. Maybe after I was long gone, after I sorted my life, the letter would find another lost soul and inspire them.


	2. Chapter 2

I took advantage of the fact that I did not have to get up for anything. The morning light poured through the uncovered windows, casting rays of light and shadows in patterns that made me smile. I snuggled deeper into the plush pillows and blankets of the giant bed. I was content to stay here for the rest of the day or my life, watching the ocean from my bed. I had slept easier than in months, after pouring my heart out on paper I felt lighter. Happier and ready to start my life again. I laid in bed for a little longer after waking up. I wanted to stay in bed, but the bare walls around me begged me to get up and start bringing them to life.

I swung out of the bed and walked around the room, loving the feel of the wooden floors on my feet, I pulled out clothes and tossed them on the bed. Today I would explore the town, see what had changed in the years I had been gone. I would also have to stop at the hardware store for supplies to start fixing things up. I smiled and hummed to myself as I padded around the room. I semi skipped to the spare room to find my baggy blue jeans, when I tripped on the floorboard again. Stubbing my toe again.

I cursed as I sat on the bed, rubbing at my abused big toe. I stared hard at the floorboard, it was loose and I was beyond certain I had secured it properly. I dropped to my knees and yanked at it, pulling it up easily and staring at it. I wanted to break it out of the anger it brought in me and the now growing bruise on my toe. "You little shit." I set it down and looked down in the hole to see if my letter was still there. I reached my hand in, wrapping my fingers around my letter and pulled it out. I was going to set it by my bed until I could properly fix the board, make sure it would not pop back up. I walked back into my room, more so limped and tossed my letter on the side table. I groaned as I heard a few pages of the older letter flutter to the floor. Maybe I should go back to bed for a few more hours. I turned to pick up the errant pages that skittered close to my sore foot. I gently folded them back up and went to set them under my letter, when I paused. My letter looked different, it was yellowed and dirty. I moved closer and picked it up, flipping it over to the front. I was confused as I read "One's heart is not to be made fun of." in the same elegant handwriting as the first letter. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the letter. I had locked all the doors, twice, before I went to bed. I had heard no one in the house or near the house all night, just the waves crashing in the distance.

I tapped the letter on my knee and took a breath, "Shit." I opened the letter and there was two pages filled with the elegant handwriting. I scanned over it, taking notice that the date was missing from the upper corner. I furrowed my brow more as I started at the beginning of the letter.

"_I am not sure if this is some sort of prank, try to get the quiet, moody grad student to emit any sort of emotion. But the words on these pages lead me to think otherwise. All though signing it Ysabeau has thrown me for quite a loop. Mrs. McCorrigan is a woman who deserves more than to be the scape goat for a silly prank or an attempt to anonymously share emotions. I am also curious as how one found the hiding spot, I was certain I had secured this floorboard to the point it would take a crowbar to pry it up._

_Aside from that, who ever you are. Your words have been heard, and it some strange way, have brought me comfort. Whether that was the intention of your prank or not, it has. I understand where you are coming from. I am not sure how you got into the house, and how you were able to find my letter, and if you are a broken-hearted burglar. But if you, are in need of someone to listen. I am here, Ysabeau._

_But first I challenge you, tell me how you found my letter and how did you get into this house? I have the only keys and I keep this house locked up tighter than my own lab. I also have a shotgun under my bed, I am not afraid to use it_."

I laughed at the last part. "Something about that last sentence has me thinking you have no idea how to use a shotgun." I held on to the pages, there was something strange going on. I stood up and set the new pages on to the table. The cottage had been empty for a few months, so I would not surprised if I had a squatter with a sense of humor to deal with.

I checked over my bags and other things, noting that nothing seemed out-of-place. I folded my arms and added better locks to my hardware shopping list. I showered and dressed in my baggy jeans, a loose sweater and tied my hair up. I looked far different from my usual city wear of black on black with a splash of black. But this was me starting over and I wanted to be comfortable.

* * *

Downstairs in the kitchen I dabble with making a bowl of cereal and pulled over the package Tom dropped off the day before. I sighed hard in between bites of my whole grain granola, it was my grandmothers writing and her careful wrapping. This was the last thing I would ever get from her and in a weird way I didn't want to open it. I finally caved after finishing the bowl and gently tore open the edges, trying to save as much as I could. The box was a plain one, one of her many shoe box type boxes she would keep her knick knacks in. it was blue, her favorite color, and old. I lifted the lid and smiled wide as I saw a book nestled comfortably in a bed of tissue. On top was an envelope, my name delicately drawn out.

I opened the letter as I set the book on the counter. It was my second favorite book of hers, an old copy of King Arthur and the knights of the round table. One that was battered in a gentle way, from all the readings I forced out of her as a kid, and occasionally as a teenager. I peeled open the letter and read the short note from my Grandmother.

"_My dearest Ysabeau,_

_I had this planned. It could take years for you to come home or it might not. I had to pay the estate lawyer extra to make sure the moment you took up the keys to this lovely cottage, you would get this package. I knew this book was one of your favorites and perfect to start your own collection, the rest of my books have found a lovely home with a lovely woman. Don't worry about them, they will be loved as much as I loved them. I do hope you can meet the dear woman, she is quite remarkable in her own right, and I think you two would get along quite well._

_This cottage is yours, forever and more, as long as you choose it. It is a magical place, in more ways than one. I never could tell you the magic it held after you left, but now, knowing you. You have taken up residence to heal a broken heart or soul. Ysabeau, you will find the love you have always dreamt of and asked me about as I read you fairy tales. In this cottage you will find it and them. I promise you, the walls of my home have the secrets, and the floors hold all the magic you will need. As long as you open your heart and your soul to the possibility of a love greater than you._

_I will always love you, my favorite and only grandchild. You brought an old woman more joy and life than you can ever imagine. I will always cherish the memories I have with you._

_Love you my dearest girl,_

_Grandma Ysabeau_

_P.S. I will give you a small hint to finding the magic I speak of, your favorite book. Search it out and everything will be revealed."_

I wiped away the tears as I read over and over my grandmothers words. She was always the one person in my life that understood me and accepted me no matter what I did. I felt my heart heavy with the regret I felt for being separated from her, by my own selfish choice. I clutched the letter to my chest as I let slow sobs out. I watched the waves and took breaths as each gentle sway of the water took away the sadness. My selfish chase of love had cost me time with an unconditional love of my grandmother.

I tucked the wrapping and the letter carefully into the box, holding on to the book I walked back up to the master room. Setting the box and the book on the shelf next to each other, they were the true start to my new collection and my new life.

Staring at the sledgehammer and the regular roofing hammer, I was lost in all that I needed to fix the bits and pieces of the cottage. I had a plastic basket in my hand, filled with glue, nails, caulk and a box of white lights that I had intentions of looping around my bed. Adding a little more fairytale to my canopy bed at night. I had spent the last hour in the hardware store trying to navigate and refresh my handyman skills. I smiled at the cashier, who I knew was staring at me trying to place where he had seen my face. I finally chose a heft roofing hammer, one I knew could be heavy enough for fixing the floorboard and possibly heavy enough to take out that suspected squatter in the middle of the night.

I walked over to the counter, setting the heavy basket down, I smiled at the salt and peppered haired man. "Did you need anything else, ma'am? Need any information on roofing or weather stripping? I have some pamphlets off to the side, next to the gumball machine."

I shook my head and smiled, "No thanks, Sid. I think I can manage fixing up the shutters and floorboards."

The older man paused in grabbing the bits and pieces from the basket. He looked at me harder, trying to once again, place my face. I finally broke, ending the guess who game, "Little Bo? Remember me? Mrs. McCorrigans granddaughter? You used to give me free gumballs after I would try and tell you it shorted me a quarter."

Sid smiled wide and blushed a little, "Bo. Yes of course I remember you. You, um, have grown up." I could see his eyes try and not roam over the curves I carried. "Last time I saw you, you were at old Natty's dress shop. Your grandmother and you were trying on dresses for the end of summer crab dance." he took a deep breath and his smile faded slightly, "Sorry about your grandmother, she was a hell of a woman."

I nodded, keeping my tight smile, "Thank you and yes, she was." I fidgeted with my purse, "I am living in the cottage now, so you will see a lot more of me." I motioned at the random tools, "I want to clean up and fix up the house, just like it was when I was little." Sid smiled and had a pep in his movements, "Well, Bo, I will be happy to point you in the right direction." he looked down at he basket, "It looks like you have a good start. The grad student that lived in the cottage after Ysabeau went into her, um. That grad student did a lot of the repairs on the roof and the back windows, herself. So you will be good when the storms come."

I looked at Sid as he mentioned the grad student, "The grad student? Can you tell me a little about them?"

Sid nodded as he threw some items in a wooden box for me, "Good kid, for the life of me I can't remember her first name. I guess it's all the wood glue I have inhaled over the years." I couldn't help but chuckle with Sid and his silly joke, "Pretty girl, real pretty. She moved into the cottage right before Ysabeau got really sick. One of your grandmothers favorite tenants, always see the two walking through town. That girl would help your grandmother with groceries and what not, but always was very quiet. Ran into the two at the farmers market and found out the girl was a medical research student, a legitimate doctor studying something I could barely understand. All I could gather was DNA, and I only know that from watching law and order over the years." Sid winked at me as he tapped at his cash register, "The girl stayed on after to take care of the house and moved out more than a handful of months ago." He looked down his nose at the total of my goods, "Let's call it an even forty dollars, sound good little Bo? Err... I mean Bo?"

I nodded and pulled out the money, handing it over to Sid, "Did this girl tell you anything more? Or leave a forwarding address?" I was suddenly intrigued by this grad student that both Sid and my grandmother took a liking too.

Sid shook his hand as he opened the register, "Nope, she was real quiet, real intelligent too. I think she felt she would intimidate us small town folk with her big words, but once in a while I could make her smile with one of my hardware jokes." Sid leaned on the counter, sighing heavy with a smile, "She was quite a looker though. Tall, blonde, pretty in all the right ways."

I smiled and laughed, picking up the box, "Sid, how would your wife take to you talking like that?"

Sid winked at me, "I tell her the same thing every night, that she will always be pretty in all the right ways. Happy wife, happy life." he walked around the counter and held the door open for me, "Like I said, anything you need, come find me. I will help you fix that house up."

"Thanks Sid, I appreciate it." I walked out into the small street and was met with the gentle ocean breeze I knew I would come to adore. Sid nodded and as I walked down the street to my car, I heard Sid, "It's good to have you home Little Bo, that cottage and this town missed you."

I paused for a moment and looked over my shoulder at the older man I used to swindle as much as possible, "Me too, Sid. Me too."

* * *

I made a few more stops at the farmers market and the tiny bookstore on the edge of town. As I drove slowly back to the cottage, enjoying the afternoon sun, I was thinking about the grad student and who she was. I would have to poke around a little more in the townsfolk and what they knew. I was pretty certain she was the heir to my grandmothers books and I knew she would have the book I wanted.

Back at the cottage I set to work on plugging up the small window air leaks, straightening molding around the rooms and lastly I set to the floorboard that was my big toes arch-enemy. I set the nails and the glue to the side and stared at the hole where I had placed my letter. I chewed at my lip for a second. I had an idea and ran back to my room and grabbed the stationary I had left out. I quickly scribbled a note.

"_Prank? Maybe, but I fear you are squatting in my house. A shotgun? Well I have a sledgehammer and the giant arms to swing it faster than you can dig out the so-called shotgun under your bed._

_The words were mine, in case you care. My heart and my soul. If you are the original author of the first letter, than I thank you. If this is some cruel prank. You better piss off and get out of my house before I get really mad. I have stubbed my toe twice as a result of your stupid joke, a third time will not be welcomed with smiles._

_Oh, and if you somehow manage to pry up this floorboard after I double nail it and glue it down, I will grant you one wish._

_Hugs and kisses._

_Ysabeau."_

I smiled wickedly as I quickly sealed the letter and dropped int back into the small void. I set to work double nailing and sealing the floor board. When I was down and the glue was set, I was positive the floorboard would withstand a wrecking ball. I kicked it with the tip of my boot in victory and moved back down to the kitchen for a celebratory glass of wine. Sitting out on the back deck with my wine, I let my thoughts drift to the mysterious grad student and how long it would take me to track her down and get the book I so coveted.


	3. Chapter 3

**So here it is, an update. I started writing this one while i was extremely sick and on a ton of meds. here is hoping now that i am med free i can actually replicate the feel i had in the first two chapters. i have created a bit of a romantical mystery here...i hope you all like it! review, message me, or whatever. just tell me if you like it and i should keep on this one! Enjoy!**

The next morning I attacked the day. Cleaning the cottage from top to bottom, repairing the little things that caught my eye and making notes of what I needed before heading into town. The day matched my mood, sunny, bright and eager.

I had my list in my hand and was in town by lunchtime. I hit up the hardware store again. Spending a few more minutes with Sid as he helped me select the tools and supplies I needed. He filled me in on the happenings in the town. Upcoming festivals, who was doing what. I could not wipe the smile off my face as I listened to the older man. As I set all of the things I needed down, or at least Sid suggested I needed to fix the cottage, he began to tally the total. Pushing keys on the same cash register that I remember from when I was kid. He looked at me above his glasses, "So little Bo, how does a fifty spot work for you?"

I smiled as I dug around in my purse, handing over the money. Sid was giving me a huge discount, "I am not going to shake the little Bo name, am I Sid?"

Sid blushed slightly and smiled as he opened the register, "Sorry, old habit. There was two Bo's in this town for a long time." He closed the register and grabbed an old peach box from under the counter to start packing up my things. "How are you settling in so far?"

I helped him, tossing bags of nails in, "Better than I expected. I love that cottage and it is such a peaceful place. I had forgotten what it was like to sleep with nothing but the sounds of the ocean to keep me company." I set a tape measure on the top, "Hey Sid, Do you know anyone who might be able to tell me about the blonde grad student? You know the one that's pretty in all the right ways?" I winked at Sid as he cleared his throat.

Sid shoved his hands deep down into the pockets of his apron, taping his carpenters pencil on the counter, "Hmm. You could try Tom. You remember old Tom the mail man? He knows everyone up and down this whole little town. Let's see, Natty is another one. I know your grandmother used to go to her once a week at least to pick up yarn for her Afghans. The last few months before your grandmother moves, that pretty girl never left her side. Making sure she got where she needed to with ease." Sid picked up a jar of gumballs and pushed them towards me, "For old times' sake." He smiled as I took one, "I wish I could remember that girls name for you little Bo, but it's been awhile since I saw her last and like I said, she never really said much. Just waited for your grandmother to do her business."

I thanked Sid and grabbed my box of things. I took a deep breath of the afternoon air, loving the sunshine and the smell of the ocean in the breeze filling around me. I looked around as I pulled on my sunglasses, Natty's dress and things shop was still where it had been since it opened in 1963. It also looked the same as I am sure it did day one. I had a notion to walk over and reunite with Natty and ask about the pretty in all the right ways blonde. But when I moved closer, I saw the closed sign and laughed to myself. Natty was still closing up shop on Wednesdays so she could go to the beach and dig for clams. I felt like I was in a time warp as everyone I met from my childhood, never changed one bit.

I walked to my car and pushed the supplies into the back seat. I would have to look in the barn and see if the old blue truck was still there. I had an overwhelming need to put my city life completely behind me while I was at the cottage. I drove back to the cottage with the windows down and the radio blaring.

* * *

I pulled into the drive path and saw Tom walking up to the house to drop off mail. I hopped out of the car, leaving it running so I could catch him. I almost startled the old man when I yelled his name. He clutched the mail to his chest when I stopped in front of him, "Jeez scare an old man like that Ysabeau and you're mail won't make it to the door." He took a breath and handed me a thin stack of letters. "Where's the fire." He smiled a little. I blushed and shrugged, "Sorry about that Tom, I wanted to catch you and ask you a few questions about the cottage. Sid pointed me in your direction."

Tom laughed, "Sid? Oh boy, what does Sid have to say about anything? All he knows is nails and how to sniff the wood glue and not get caught."

I shook my head and laughed with the old man, "That is true, Tom. Sid told me that you might be able to fill me in on the last renter that was in the house before my grandmother passed." I suddenly felt sheepish in my intense need to find out who this blonde was and why my grandmother was so taken with her. And to find my books.

Tom pushed his blue postal hat up as he wiped at his brow, "Hmm. There was that young man, English major. He was always trying to publish the next great novel. I had to hand him the rejected manuscripts back almost once a week. Then there was the German girl, engineer student. She helped your grandmother fix the roof trusses, big girl. Strong girl." Tom raised his eyebrows at me, "I do mean big. Then there was the blonde medical student. Pretty girl and your grandmother's favorite." Tom looked at me, "She was the last one to live here. She packed up the house when your grandmother was moved to the hospice. Took her mail to her every day. Good kid."

I bit my lip at the memory of when I received the phone call telling me she was being moved. I was too caught up in my own life disaster to give it or her a second thought. It has become one of my biggest regrets, not going to spend more time with her during that time. I gripped the letters in my hand, "Do you happen to remember her name?"

Tom cocked his head to the side, "Oh shoot, I should. I saw her every day for two years. Chatted with her and everything. Smart girl, like Einstein smart." He furrowed his brow, "I will have to ask my wife, I never forget names and faces but for some reason I am drawing a blank." He smiled and winked at me, "Maybe you scared it out of me Ysabeau. " He turned and started to walk away, "I must finish my rounds! I will see you same time same place tomorrow." Tom patted me on the shoulder as he shifted his mail bag.

I sighed hard and looked at the mail in my hand; it was random junk mail and a letter from the city. I sighed harder when I saw it was his handwriting. I moved back to my car when I heard Tom come back around the bushes, "Lauren! Her name was Lauren!" he smiled wide and tapped at his temple, "Still as sharp as the day I was born."

Waving back at Tom as he disappeared back around the bushes, I let out a breath, "Lauren. It's a start." I walked to the car with a smile and a plan forming in my head of how to track this blonde Lauren down.

* * *

After emptying the car, I set to work on the little things I wanted to get done before dinner. I had planned on going to the grocery store and picking up a few things to try and make the crab cake recipe I found in the old recipe box still jammed in the one cabinet. In the meantime I fixed shaky cabinet doors, resealed a few of the kitchen windows and the giant window in the bedroom. I smiled at my handiwork and that there was no longer a draft pushing through the gaps.

I wiped off my hands and walked past the spare bedroom when something in my heart and mind told me to stop and check the floorboard. It literally felt like someone was pulling on my heart as I walked by the door; so much so, I had to place my hand over my heart to feel if there were strings attached.

I was pushed into the room and I gasped lightly when I saw the floorboard that I had nailed, glued and almost welded down, pried up and loose. I knelt to the floor slowly, hesitating for a moment before picking at the edge. Finding the board moving easily, I pushed it to the side. I took a deep breath as I sat on my heels, slowly reaching my hand inside the hole. My fingers grazed the edge of an envelope. I pulled my hand back quickly as my heart raced. Looking around the room, I tried to find anything that would clue me into that someone had gotten in while I was gone.

I hopped up and ran around the cottage, checking doors and windows. Finding everything intact I raced back up to the spare room. Dropping to my knees at the hole in the floor. My heart was racing, my hands shaking as I dipped back in. once again feeling the edges of the envelope. Grasping it between my thumb and first two fingers, I pulled it slowly free.

The envelope was yellowed, like the others, and sealed. Veritably untouched. I flipped it over and the same messy but elegant handwriting was scrawled across the front. "_My one wish."_

My finger moved on its own, tearing open the letter. There was only one page, but it was filled. I didn't skim the words as I had before, this time I read slowly.

"_You must be the infamous little Bo. Mrs. McCorrigan has told me stories upon stories about her favorite granddaughter. But she also told me that you have been living in Toronto for the last year and a half, which makes me semi question, the validity of your words in your last correspondence._

_If you are the brunette in the pictures on the wall in the sunroom, I dare to say you would have a hard time swinging a sledgehammer at my head."_

_I paused reading, holding the letter against my thigh. I had moved to Toronto three years ago, and then my grandmother became sick eight months later. Glancing at the letter, something was nagging in the back of my head. I returned to reading the letter._

_"I took your letter to Mrs. McCorrigan, she just smiled and said I should keep writing you. That you would be a good pen pal to have, that you would also surprise me. Then she told me that I should tell you to look in the barn behind the truck? Whatever that may mean._

_However, your grandmother has never been wrong about anyone she has met, including me. She offered me a home when I was lost and did not have one. She gave me a place to find warmth and hope in a heart that was long given up on. So, I am going to write back to you and hope that this isn't some elaborate prank or joke on my behalf._

_You words, in your first letter, gave me the feeling that I was not alone in how I feel about the world around me and how I fit into it all._

_My one wish, since you owe me one for prying up the floorboard you thought to be impenetrable, is this, that you find the peace in your heart and find someone who can appreciate you for you. I can tell in your first letter that you are just more than a beautiful broken hearted girl. Whoever broke your heart didn't deserve you._

_I hope you write back, the house is lonely now and I have rather gotten used to seeing this floorboard poking up as if to say hello. Hm, maybe that is two wishes._

_Oh, and by the way, my name is Lauren. It's nice to meet you Ysabeau, Little Bo._

_Till next time,_

_- L."_

Lauren. The pretty blonde grad student. Another piece to the puzzle I was searching for.

I folded the letter back up, tucking it away in the envelope. I stood up and walked to my bedroom, setting the letter on top of the other two. Lauren's words echoed in my mind. I could tell in her letters that she was intelligent as Sid said. But there was something more to her word, something that made my heart skip and fill up with a strange, long forgotten sensation. I walked to the large window, folding my arms I stared out into the waves. My eyes catching onto the lighthouse that sat out on the cove. I stared at it, thinking about the strange comment about when I moved to Toronto. There was not date on this letter like there was on the first. A small mystery was brewing in the floorboards of my cottage and it filled my mind. Chasing away the linger thoughts of why I had left Toronto in the first place.

I chewed on my lip, thinking for a little while. I eventually went back to the kitchen and grabbed the grocery list, knocking the small amount of mail Tom had given me earlier onto the floor. His letter was staring at me like a red flag, a stop sign and everything else you could identify with stopping in place.

I picked it up, my jaw clenched. I tossed it in the small basket that held the extra keys to the cottage. There I spotted the barn key. The words Lauren passed on from my grandmother slid to the front of my mind. I snatched the bulky keys up and ran to the barn.

The smile on my face when I saw the beaten up blue truck felt like it was going to split my face. The old 1947 ford pickup truck seemed to grin back at me. The paint was peeling, there were rust spots dotting the entire length of the truck, but I didn't care. The old truck was a sight for sore eyes and made my heart swell more at the memories it brought back to me. I ran my fingers down the side as I walked slowly around the truck, relishing the feel of the pebbly metal. This had been my grandmother's sole form of transportation from when I was four years old until she stopped driving.

Making my way to the rear of the truck, still smiling and eager to find out if the old girl would still run, I saw it. An old trunk tucked a few feet behind the rear hatch. Again the feeling that my heart was being pulled into that direction, I moved to it as if my legs and feet were being controlled by someone else. The old steamer trunk was one I had vaguely remembered hiding in the back of the closet in the front room. I never went into it as a kid, knowing it was private and special to my grandmother. I never touched it and soon forgot about it.

I bent in front of the lid, smiling at how perfect the condition was. It was easily as old or older than the Ford. The lid lifted easily when I pulled it open. On top of the jewelry tray was a single envelope with my name on it in my grandmother's handwriting. I smiled and picked up the letter, slipping it into my pocket I lifted the tray to find all of the photographs that filled the hallways and the albums that filled the spots on bookshelves that were not taken up by the massive collection she kept.

Tears fell as I glanced at photos of my grandmother and I when I was little, when I was an awkward teenager and to the last time I saw her. Right before I moved to the city. I picked up the picture in its plain wooden frame, sniffling. How could I have ignored this woman, the one woman I cherished more than anything else? All for a love that I thought was all I needed. I held onto the frame with both of my hands, running my fingers over the picture. I missed my grandmother painfully in this moment as she continued to give more than I deserved.

After a moment I went to set the frame back with the others when I caught the edge of a picture out of a frame. I tugged at it, thinking it was another of the collection. Instead of me and my grandmother, the picture was my grandmother sitting on the patio with a blonde. The blonde in the picture was young and absolutely beautiful. One look at her had my heart beating quickly; I unconsciously bit my bottom lip at how stunning this woman was. Long blonde hair that was trying to fight the ocean wind did nothing to cover up the deep golden brown eyes of the woman and the gentle, genuine smile she held. There was something in her eyes that kept me staring. It took me a minute until I read the letters on the blonde's shirt, MIT. The blonde had to be Lauren, the Einstein smart, pretty in all the right ways blonde girl.

I flipped the photograph over, hoping there was a date or a note on it. Nothing. I chewed on the inside of my lip, tapping the photograph on my palm. Standing up I closed the trunk. I held onto the photograph and found that I kept looking at it and the beautiful woman sitting across from my grandmother. There was something about her that had me drawn in, it was similar to the feeling I got every time I walked past the floorboard or curled my fingers around the yellowed envelopes.

I was now on a mission, not just for groceries, but more pieces to the puzzle. Before leaving the barn I checked the old Ford, yelling in victory when it started up on the first try and purred like it had just rolled off the factory floor. I pulled the truck out of the barn, pulling my black sports car in its spot. Covering the last part of the city I had visible with an old canvas tarp. As I was about to pull out of the drive path, I stopped. Running back into the house and to my bedroom I scrambled for the stationary I had jammed in the bedside table.

My hand moved fast as I wrote.

"_My grandmother was the first one to call me little Bo. It seems I will never shake that nickname loose. Even know, years after I left this town, I am still recognized as little Bo._

_I am curious as to what my grandmother has told you about me. Most of it could be good, but most of it could be embarrassing. Since you went over your wishes, I will ask one from you. What has my grandmother told you about me?_

_Tell her that I found the trunk behind the Ford. Tell her thank you, I have long forgotten about all those pictures and what they meant to me._

_You must be someone pretty special yourself. My grandmother has a way of finding the special people and giving them a home and a place to be themselves. That's what she always did for me growing up._

_I must say Lauren that whoever broke your heart or whatever broke your heart to make you feel so lost. They don't deserve you being heartbroken or sad about it. You do that and whatever it is, has won. You seem to be smarter than the average bear, don't let the weaker ones have power over you. Follow your heart and be true to it. I understand heartbreak and have lost myself in it over the last little while, but being here in this cottage and finding my grandmother again. It's the light at the end of the tunnel._

_She is right, about being pen pals. This cottage can be lonely when it's empty. Almost too perfectly lonely._

_ I have also gotten used to the strange letters in the floor and I think I am beginning to look forward to them. So, yes, if this isn't a weird creepy prank. Please write back._

_Oh, can you tell me when my grandmother told you I moved to Toronto and why? And last question, what is the date today?_

_- Bo aka Little Bo_

_p.s Did you go to MIT and what for?_

_P.p.s. can you tell my grandmother that I love her dearly, always will and that I am sorry."_

I sighed as I scribbled out the last line. I had always hoped I could tell my grandmother one last time that I loved her. I slipped the letter into an envelope, sealing it and taping it closed. I scribbled on the front of it _"one wish, two wish."_

Kneeling on the floor in the spare bedroom, I lifted the loose board. Setting the envelope into the hole. Pushing it into the sub-floor to make sure it was in there as good as it could be before I put the board back. I then lightly nailed the board back into place, kicking it for good luck with the toe of my boot. I stared at it, wondering how it was possible that these letters were making its way into a sealed house.

The thought lingered in my head along the drive back into town, my eyes constantly drifting to the picture of the beautiful blonde named Lauren in the photograph I had stuck in the dashboard next to the speedometer


	4. Chapter 4

The first stop I made when I was in town, was Natty's shop. I grabbed the photograph of Lauren and tucked it into my back pocket before hopping out of the old truck. The sun was warm and as I shut the truck door, I realized I did not remember that many sunny warm days in the city. I would only take notice of the dark gloomy ones. But now, here everyday seemed warm and bright. I wondered if it was a sign.

Walking into Natty's old shop was another time warp event for me. Literally nothing changed, even Natty standing behind the counter sorting through her boxes of yarn. Natty still looked as eccentric as she did when I was a kid. Wild silver hair that didn't make her look crazy, just made her look like she was always caught in a windstorm. Natty always favored old baggy jeans and the thick sweaters that came with living on the eastern coast near the ocean. Her jewelery is what I remember most, big rings with turquoise stones, still on her fingers almost twenty years later.

The bell above the door tinkled as I walked in, Natty never once looked up as she hollered towards me, "Questions? Ask them, looking is free and welcomed." I smiled at her thick accent that made her sound like she belonged to the Kennedy family. Natty was born and raised on the coast and I was certain she never left it. I uttered a quiet thank you and took the opportunity to look around the old shop. This was where my grandmother and I had picked out my dress for the end of summer dance, my prom dress and the last time I saw my grandmother, picking out a cocktail dress for the event in the city where I had met my fiancé. The shop was still filled with dresses, sweaters, and all sorts of random knick knacks that made Natty's a one stop shop for anything your summer cottage would need.

I picked up a large sweater that was soft and perfect for the cold nights I knew were to come as summer began to drift away into fall. I walked over to the counter and set it down, Natty peered over her glasses, "Oh good choice, those are handmade in Pennsylvania by the Amish." She looked up at me and had to push her glasses up as she squinted, "Little Bo?"

"Hi Natty."

Natty smirked, "Well I'll be, old Tom had mentioned the cat drug you back to town." She pulled off her glasses, as she reached for my left hand. Holding it up as she leered at the ring finger, "I thought you were engaged to that handsome man boy from the big city. The reason why you disappeared like a bad rash around here." She turned my hand slightly before letting go. I tucked it under the sweater feeling embarrassed.

"I was."

Natty smiled, "Was. That's why you're back in town. Broken hearts need the ocean air most." Natty picked up the sweater, "Tom tells me you've taken over the cottage. About time someone brought life into that old house."

As she folded the sweater I gripped onto the edge of the driftwood counter, "How long has the cottage been empty?"

Natty tossed her head back and forth, "Ehm. Almost a year now, the girl moved out about a year ago."

"Lauren?"

Natty nodded as she expertly folded the sweater, "Shame to see her go, she was a good kid. Smart girl."

I took a steady breath, "What was she like, Lauren?"

"Pretty girl, very pretty girl. Treated your grandmother like she was her own, even took care of her right up until she moved into hospice." Natty wrapped the sweater in tissue, tucked it into a old burlap bag and set it on the counter. "She seemed a little lonely, a little heartbroken. Same look in her eyes you carry now Little Bo."

I swallowed and looked off to the side, "Do you know where she moved too? Lauren?"

Natty sat on the stool behind the counter, "I think she moved to Seattle, months and months ago. Last day I saw her, she was picking up some sweaters and blankets. She thanked me for my kindness and was endearing. Told me she had gotten some job as a research doctor in a fancy hospital." Natty waved her hand, "Don't ask for the name of the hospital, you know I don't give two clams about details that have nothing to do with me." Natty smiled as I laughed lightly, "The girl took care of your grandmother, and she had huge part in figuring out what was ailing her. Created a treatment that had the last few days Ysabeau's life pain free and happy."

I bit the inside of my mouth to hold the tears back, "I should have come home sooner."

"Yes, you should have. Your grandmother loved you dearly but would snap at anyone of us that spoke ill of your disappearance and not being here for her." Natty frowned and raised her eyebrows, "but you are home now, your grandmother was one of my best friends and I have always looked you as a niece I never really had. I am happy you are home to brighten that cottage back up." Natty patted my hand, "I still dig clams up on Wednesdays if you want to join me. Best clam chowder you will ever have." She winked at me.

I smiled, "Thanks Natty. Is there anything else you can tell me about Lauren?"

"Nope, you know all I know." Natty paused, "Wait, she did mention something about your grandmother being something special, I already knew that. But the girl was adamant on telling me there was more to just her kind heart. She tried to get me to tell her where Ysabeau's family was and how to get a hold of them." She frowned lightly, "No one knew where you were in the city, little Bo. I'm sorry."

I felt my chest tighten as I nodded. "That's my fault. I was wrapped up in a man boy, lost my way." I whispered that last part. I picked up the burlap bag, "Thanks again Natty." I turned to walk away out the door when Natty called after me. "There is one weird thing, hit me like hurricane. Lauren, right after your grandmother went in to hospice, started asking about you. What you were like and when the last time you were at the cottage, mentioned something about letters?" Natty shrugged and furrowed her brow. "The girl was under a lot of stress though, your grandmother and her finals."

I paused in mid-step, I turned as my throat suddenly became dry, "How long ago was that?" my heart was pounding as the words came out.

"Like I said, right after your grandmother became really ill. Almost two years ago. You had been gone awhile by then, kid."

I tried to smile to hide the strange feeling that washed over me, two years ago. It correlated with the date on the first letter I found. But how could it be? Two years and yet I was getting letters in the floor within days, like it was nothing. I promised Natty I would stop by for clam chowder next week and walked out into the street. What was going on? This strange puzzle, mystery of this apparently amazing blonde was getting deeper and stranger.

I tossed the sweater into the truck and climbed in, pulling out the photograph, I held it in my hands. Staring at Lauren. Who was this woman? Why was I so drawn to her? Why did the simple looks of her picture make my heart beat in a way that I never felt before and how was she writing me letters from the past?

* * *

I was quiet and lost in thought as I went to the grocery store for supplies before heading back to the cottage. I was extremely sad about the things Natty told me about my grandmother and me being gone than anything else. I put the groceries away and went right to the trunk full of photographs. I busied myself through lunch and into late afternoon, sorting through the photos and hanging them all back up in the hallway and in my bedroom. All the photographs were a part of my life where I was happiest and I threw it all away in a moment for a blue eyed man boy who promised me the world.

When I was finished, the entire cottage was filled with photographs of my childhood. I found another photograph of Lauren and my grandmother. It was obvious that Natty took it, since both women were knee deep in mud holding up clams. I laughed and couldn't help but run my finger over Lauren's face. She was absolutely stunning I could not ignore that; something in her eyes told me so much. I could see her heart in the gentleness of her eyes; I could also see a slight sadness to them. There was something deep inside of me that made me want to know this woman, meet her and hug her. Hug her sadness away and hug her for being there for my grandmother when I wasn't.

I let out a sigh and walked up to my bedroom, setting the photograph on the almost empty bookshelf holding the single book my grandmother had sent to me. I walked to the side table and picked up the few letters from Lauren and set them next to the book. His was mixed in with hers. I groaned. I should read it in case he was determined to come after me.

I walked back to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine or anything strong to help me read his letter. I passed the spare bedroom and glanced in, my eyes locking on the floorboard pushed up. I smiled lightly and walked over to it. I didn't hesitate to pull it open and wrap my hand around the letter I knew would be there. I held it up in the dwindling afternoon light. _"As you wish._"

I set her letter off to the side, next to the large bottle of wine I had stashed in my bag. A last minute pilfering of the man boys expansive an expensive wine collection. It only seemed fair.

I tore open his letter and blew out a puff of irritated air, it was typed not handwritten. Typical of him.

"_Dear Bo, _

_I hope that you know what you have done. I have already moved your things into storage and passed the key onto that little annoying Russian friend of yours. She felt it necessary to call me a selfish pig asshole, interesting coming from a street urchin. Kenzi will be bringing you the key and you have three months to clean out the storage unit, I have graciously paid three months' rent for you. _

_I know I apologized for my actions, but your reaction and unwillingness to listen and accept some facts, proves to me you have a lot of growing up to do. I have moved on and so should you. _

_I do appreciate that you mailed the engagement ring back to me, saves me some time having my lawyer draft up the request. _

_I wish you the best and hope you realize that I did love you, Bo._

_All my best, _

_Christopher." _

I crumpled the letter up and ripped it apart, stomping outside and throwing the pieces into the wind. Yelling at the ocean as tears streamed down my face. The ocean only responded by crashing the waves harder against the show. Drowning out my screams of anger, sadness and utter hurt.

I stood outside well after the sun dipped down into hiding, leaving me in darkness. Just the rotating light from the lighthouse at the edge of the cove my only company. I went inside when the cold was too much, I set my wine glass into the sink and picked up the bottle and Lauren's letter. I needed to drown myself in a large, hot bath and bottle of wine. Christopher was an asshole, a pompous, self involved asshole man boy. I was agitated as I filled the bath with the hottest water I could pump out of the old pipes. Taking large sips from the bottle, shook my head and laughed at how stupid I was about Christopher and falling for him.

I cringed happily as I dipped myself into the almost lava hot water, enjoying the sting as it burned away the anger left from the impersonal and pompous letter from him. The bubbles came up to my neck, I let the wine bottle float around in my hand as it graced the top of the water. I closed my eyes as the heat and alcohol did their job. I began to relax. I rolled my head to the side and saw her letter sitting there. I traded the wine bottle for the yellowed envelope as I pushed up to keep the paper from getting wet.

I smiled instantly at the sight of her sloppy handwriting.

"_Little Bo, _

_First. Today is August 23__rd__, 2012. Thursday. I normally am diligent about the dates on anything I put to paper, but I think my last few letters to you have been rushed. _

_Your grandmother has told me nothing but good things about you. She truly adores you and as she tells me more stories about you, I can see why. A feisty, courageous, smart as a whip, big hearted girl. All her words. She told me the story about when you were nine years old and you stood between her and the man who tired to take her purse. She said it was that summer you convinced her to go to the movies in the city? Mrs. McCorrigan told me to have you tell me the rest of the story. _

_I dare say I am far from special, I just think she has taken pity on me and allowed me to stay with her. To answer one of your postscripts, I did indeed go to MIT. Genetic research with a minor in curative medicine properties, basically DNA doctor wannabe. I am almost done with my graduate degree and am looking forward to a short break. Can I ask why do you ask about MIT? _

_My heart was broken, it is one of those things that come in life and how we all navigate it. Love is one of those things we all deserve, but not all of us can navigate its roads successfully. Maybe one day I will ramble on about it to you, my pen pal, after I have had a night of heavy drinking. Till then, all I will say is thank you. These two glasses of wine I have had while writing you, is truly not enough liquid courage to spill my heart to a floorboard and the beautiful woman under it. But, Thank you for the words of encouragement, Bo, and making a Yogi bear reference. _

_I have to keep this letter short, I promised to take your grandmother out to see Natty later today. I should shower and put the wine bottle back in the cupboard. _

_Oh, Toronto. Your grandmother told me you just moved to the city a few months before I came to live here, that you met a handsome man that swept you off your feet. Natty calls him man boy in her usual sarcastic tone. Mrs. McCorrigan said to tell me all about the man boy so I can relay it to her. I think she likes these letters as much as I do. She is as curious as I am about the one who whisked you away from this lovely little ocean side town. _

_She also wanted to say your welcome for the trunk, that it will take you back to your heart and what it will need to find it again. Just keep looking. I did sneak a few looks at some of the recent pictures she had of you, how could anyone break the heart of a woman as beautiful as you. It amazes me, the world is a very confused place. _

_These letters have been a small comfort, I find the more I ask about you the more Mrs. McCorrigan lights up. The more I light up, too. _

_Till you write again, _

_Lauren._

_P.s. Mrs. McCorrigan says she loves you more than the ocean and the sea. There is nothing you have to be sorry for, she is still with you. You just have to look in the pages. (I am quoting her words exactly, as she requested.) _

_p.p.s I should apologize for my comment about how beautiful you are, I have drank a little too much wine. But you are very beautiful, Bo. You probably need to hear that more, maybe you can ask the man boy to tell you everyday. You deserve that."_

I could not help but smile at how many times she called me beautiful, even if it was apparent the wine was doing most of the talking. It didn't matter, it helped take the edge off of Christopher letter. I sighed and set the letter down, dragging my lobster red body out of the hot water, I dressed for bed. I walked to my bedroom, bringing the rest of the wine with me as I crawled into bed with my stationary.

I sat for a minute, recalling when I was nine and had done my best to scare off a mugger trying to take my grandmothers purse. I laughed at how brave I thought I could be when it was my grandmother who talked the mugger down and gave him enough money to satisfy his need for a clean bed and a hot meal. I started scribbling the story down for Lauren when it hit me. I snatched her letter back up and looked at the date she had written. It was two years ago exactly. I set the letter in my lap, how was that possible? Maybe it was a mistake, but how could it be? She was talking to my grandmother while she was still alive. Then there was what Natty told me, Lauren had been inquiring about me and mentioned something about letters. I rubbed my eyes, trying to rub out the buzz I had from drinking half a bottle of expensive wine in a hot bath.

I stood up and grabbed the photo of my grandmother with Lauren, the date printed by the old developer at the drugstore read July 12th, 2012. I sighed and rubbed my eyes again, my mind was having a hard time absorbing this small facts. I crawled back into bed and started a new piece of paper, the only way I would get more of this puzzle is if I asked.

_"Lauren, I need a nickname for you since you seem to attached to the little Bo name like the rest of this town._

_You told me that today is August 23__rd__, 2012. but my calendar says August 23__rd__, 2014. Which one of us has had far too much wine?"_

I paused, my eyes were growing heavy as the wine was now mixing with the emotional exhaustion I had from the day. I didn't want to not leave a letter for her, so I scribbled quickl_y._

_"I think I have had too much wine, I can barely stay awake. I promise, first thing in the morning I will write until my hand falls off. The mugger story, the man boy who is the biggest pompous dickhead in the world, and how I could ever think I was in love with him...ugh._

_All of it, I will tell you._

_Till tomorrow,_

_Little Bo._

_p.s. Thank you for calling me beautiful, it was something man boy never told me enough, you are right._

_p.p.s You are also beautiful, stunning if I dare say it. I found two pictures of you tucked in the trunk, that's how I knew about MIT. You have the most gentle honey gold brown eyes I have ever seen, I wish I could take away some of the sadness I see in them, Lauren. Because you are equally as beautiful, or more._

_p.p.p.s I owe you for taking care of my grandmother. Natty told me that you were with her every step of the way and did so much for her_."

I stopped writing as tears began to hit the paper, smearing the ink I had just freshly put down. I wiped away the tears, leaving smudges. I was now drunk and sobbing, I tucked the letter in an envelope and stumbled to the spare room. Writing on the front of the letter, _"I promise you tomorrow."_

Out of nowhere I kissed the letter before I dropped it in the hole, covering it up with a a gentle slap of my hand. I pushed up and stumbled back into bed, passing out in sobs while the wine pulled me into a deep, drunken sleep. A sleep that was hinted with images of a blonde woman that seemed to be in the past while I was in the future.


End file.
