Page 91 of Dream a Little Dream

Jonathan closed his eyes. “It’s a metaphor, Savvy. You’re going to leave this place better than you found it.”

“Yeah. That I can get behind. But first? I think I have to figure out how this all happened. Lindy had to have known something. She and my mom weren’t just sisters, they were best friends.”

“Then you know where you have to start.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

The Key to It All

My guests that week had checked out two hours earlier, which meant I had the all-clear to head up to the attic of the Airbnb, where two boxes belonging to my aunt remained. With the attic mostly cleared out, I hadn’t been in a rush to go through them because, as best as I could tell, they simply contained old playbills from shows she’d seen and trophies and artwork from when she was a kid. It was a hail Mary that I’d find the information I was looking for, but I planned to turn every damn stone I could.

With a deep breath, I sank to my knees and opened the first box and then the second, finding much of what I expected. Odds, ends, sketches from her artist phase, and mementos. I smiled at the little reminders of Lindy but sighed as I sifted to the bottom of the final box. I texted Jonathan.

Nothing but dead ends. The attic was a bust.

As I awaited his reply, I looked down at the last piece of artwork in my hand. A sketch of a winding pathway through a serene landscape. Honestly, Lindy had been a fairly decent artist, having taken multiple classes at the local library. The shading was quite good. Next to her penciled-in signature was the name she’d given to the work:Find Your Key to Happiness. It was an interesting title, and when I looked closer at the sketch, I could see that there were actually tiny gold keys hanging from many of the branches on the trees along the path. How unique. I sat back on my heels.I might just have to frame this one, I thought, gently running my hand across the paper in reverence. That’s when the smile fell right off my face.

The jumble of keys.

For as long as I’d known Lindy, she’d always had a key ring in the drawer near the fridge. Four or five keys on a tiny keychain that saidEat More Cake. I’d allocated all but the smallest key in the bunch to things like the shed out back, Lindy’s bike lock, and several spare keys for her house and car. The little one’s destination had eluded me, and I figured I’d get around to figuring it out someday. Yet I remembered right where I’d stashed those keys and headed down to grab them, then rushed out the door.

On pure adrenaline and with the jumble of keys burning a hole in my pocket, I stood in line at the bank.

“Hey, Savanna, you got a deposit for me?”

I don’t know why I felt the need to keep my voice low, but I did. “I actually just had a question. I think my Aunt Lindy, um, Lindsay Bright had one of those locked boxes. Here is the key. Would you be able to check for me?”

After a round of typing, she smiled. “Right this way.”

I was in absolute shock. I was escorted to a vault-like room I’d never seen before with an entire wall of safety deposit boxes.

“This one is Lindy’s. You’re listed as an authorized accessor as well. I’ll just need you to sign in and we’ll each use our keys.”

This was astounding. I actually couldn’t believe the series of events that had led me here, but I managed my expectations until I knew what might be inside that box. Two minutes later, Michelle placed the long rectangular box on the table in front of me. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Thank you,” I said, and slid it open.

I peered inside and my breath caught. Goose bumps erupted on my arms. There was an envelope inside with my name written in those recognizable swoops. My mother’s handwriting. I lifted it reverently and opened the flap. Her words rose off the page, and for a minute, it felt very much like she was right there in that room with me. In fact, I knew she was.

Savanna Rose,

If you’re reading this letter, it means you’re all grown up. I plan to hand over this letter to you once you’re eighteen. Maybe not on your birthday, though. No seriousness at all on my girl’s special day. The precocious two-year-old playingat my feet as I write these words is already on her way to being a kind and smart human being. I can only imagine what you’re like now at eighteen! I have no doubt that you’re my very best friend.

I have so many hopes for you that are ready to burst from my chest at any given moment, which is why I’ve decided to put pen to paper now. This letter is as much an outlet for me as it is sentiment I want to communicate to you.

First you should know that your father and I love you more than I ever realized was possible. We talk nightly about what an amazing little baby you are and how we were blessed “with a good one.”

I worry a lot, however. I stay up late, tossing and turning, because I want to protect you from the world while also being as open and transparent as possible. I’m not sure how to make both exist. Because your start in this world, Savanna, and our journey together wasn’t exactly the cookie cutter model. I don’t want my journey to motherhood to in any way interfere with your sense of self-worth. I’ve done what I can to shield you from the choices that I’ve made, but I will always wonder if it was enough.

By now you’ve known for years that your father isn’t related to you by blood but, in my firm belief, is a true soul connection instead. You two were meant to be together, two peas in a silly pod. I can feel it as much as I can the rays of sun on my skin each day. Our family is a perfect one, just the way it is.

That brings me to how I came to have you. While you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, the man who you are biologically related to wasn’t someone I was in love with. We met at a party and I was dazzled by things that were designed to dazzle. It was clear to me that he wouldn’t be a positive influence in your life, so I made the choice to ask him to stay out of it, which he agreed to. Up until now, you’ve been aware of his existence but not his name. I have it for you now because as an adult, you have every right to explore that part of you. His name is Don Faber, and last I heard, he was living in Dreamer’s Bay, South Carolina, where I grew up.

I sucked in air because my mother’s words just confirmed it. Donald Faber was my biological father. I took a moment with the full realization, holding it in my hands and coming to terms with the truth. And then an important understanding clicked into place. I stared at the wall, and it was almost as if I could feel my mother’s hand on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and let the feeling wash over me. At the very same time, something else washed over me as well. Strength. The will to overcome all of this. If my mother could fight so hard for me and my well-being, I could fight for me also. In fact, I felt like I owed it to her. She’d be devastated to see me roll over and give in. I wasn’t alone. She was with me, and so was my dad.

In case anything should ever happen to me, I’ll be handing this letter over to my sister for safekeeping. Though I imagine I’m not that easy to get rid of. I love you, Savanna. You’re the best damn thing that could have ever happened to me.

With all the love in my heart,

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