“Did you open it?”
“I think so?” he said uncertainly. “I honestly don’t remember. I was looking for a fiddle. I think I remember seeing some folded-up paper, but I could have invented all that by now.”
“I have no idea where it would be,” she said. She reminded him of how, a few months after Nora’s death, the five siblings had met in Georgia to go through the house—picking out what they wanted, selling or donating or throwing away what they didn’t. She didn’t remember seeing any envelope, but the house had been packed with sixty years’ worth of family life, and she’d seen only a portion of it.
“I thought Joyce had all the paperwork, but I can ask everybody for you.”
“They won’t be very cooperative. But if the Markses’ lawsuit goes away then I guess maybe their own lawsuit has a better shot?” He laughed humorlessly.
“I don’t have to tell them it’s for you. I can say I was just curious.”
“That would be awesome,” he said. “Thank you. Do you know who bought her house?”
“No idea. We just hired a realtor and sold it. But if you’re thinking we left stuff up in the attic, you can think again. I know Thurston and your mom spent days up there, dragging everything out. I think your mama was convinced there were family jewels hidden in the walls. We ended up hiring a dumpster and throwing almost all of it away. The house was totally empty when we sold it.”
He had a mental image of that yellow dresser lying on its side, green eyes staring up at the sky, surrounded by moth-eaten winter coats and old Stevie Wonder albums.
Rochelle and Ray talked for another twenty minutes or so, then finally slid out of the booth. “What are you up to today?” she asked.
“Just wanted to see you,” he said, slinging the violin onto his shoulder. “I’m leaving for Des Moines tonight, but my flight doesn’t leave until six o’clock.”
“Good,” she said. “Let’s play hooky. Let’s go to Reading Terminal Market and wander around the city some. I never get to go places like that and I’ve been wanting to.” She eyed his violin. “Are you taking that everywhere?”
He shrugged. “When I’m traveling, I don’t leave it behind. The case is indestructible, and honestly I don’t even notice it anymore.”
“Okay, well, we’ll make a tourist out of that fiddle,” she said.
They spent the day wandering around central Philly—the stalls and great food of the Reading Terminal Market, down into Chinatown, over to the Liberty Bell.
They were crossing Franklin Square when Aunt Rochelle nudged him and pointed with her chin. “Look, look,” she said.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Look at her,” she said. “Don’t you think she’s cute?”
A young athletic woman was crossing in front of them, her toned ass bouncing with every step in her black leggings. She had her hands jammed into the pockets of her red puffy coat, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore red earmuffs.
“What? She’s aiight.”
“I’ll give you a dollar to talk to her.”
He stopped in the middle of the street. “Are you serious? I’m not doing that. I have a girlfriend.”
Now it was her turn to stop. “What? When did you find a girlfriend?”
“We’ve been together for a while now.”
“You have? How long? You have a picture? Let me see. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you got a girlfriend.”
So he told her about Nicole—how they met, how often they could see each other. Relaxing and chatting with his aunt was the most fun he’d had in weeks. He was sad when she drove him back to her condo to pick up his rental car to head out to the airport. But they promised to be in closer touch. It was a good day.
A few days later, true to her word, Aunt Rochelle emailed Ray.
Hey sugar, still thinking about that philly cheese steak I got at Central Market! I need to find an excuse to go back again lol. So I asked all the sibs about any paperwork and they all said they’d look. Your mama kept asking why and I told her I was curious about family history. Not sure if she believed me or not but we’ll see what they come up with.
A week later:
Just wanted to give you an update, which is no news. Joyce did have mama’s and daddy’s birth certificates but nobody can find anything about PopPop. They promised me they’d keep looking but they think they probably threw it out.