She pushed talk and listened to three rings. Four. Five. It was an hour later in Chicago. Maybe Aunt Gladys had already gone to bed. She could feel Jeremy tensing up.

“Hello?”

“Oh, uh, hello.” Bea cleared her throat. “Is this Gladys Fennel?”

“Yes, yes.” The voice was warbly and soft. “This is Gladys. Who is this?”

“Um, well . . .” Bea glanced at Jeremy, and he nodded his encouragement. “This is Beatrice Jensen. Juniper Jensen’s granddaughter.”

There was a long pause, and Bea could almost hear Aunt Gladys blinking.

“Put it on speaker,” Jeremy whispered.

Bea hit the button.

“I haven’t talked to Junie in ages,” Aunt Gladys finally said. “How is she? Is she still living in that old house?”

“Yes, she is. She’s . . . okay. She’s having a few health problems right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Aunt Gladys clucked her tongue. “Does she know you’re calling me, Beatrice?”

“Um.” Bea hesitated. “No. But she mentioned her stay with you in Chicago, and I was wondering—”

“She told you about that?”

Bea held the phone tight. “Yes.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Poor Junie. She never was the same after everything with the baby. Wouldn’t speak to me after that.”

Bea glanced at Jeremy, her heart jumping. “Baby?”

“I thought it was awful the way her parents pressured her to give him up.” Aunt Gladys sniffed. “I never agreed with it. That’s why I told her she could live here with me. We could raise him together. But she was so young . . .”

Bea swallowed. What a hard position to be in. “What happened?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard it all already. She got pregnant out of wedlock, and her parents were ashamed. They said she couldn’t come home unless she put him up for adoption. She was scared, you know. Hated the big city.”

“Him?”

“Yes, indeed. A mighty fine baby boy, born right over at Mercy Hospital.”

“When?” Jeremy asked.

“Oh! Who is that?” Aunt Gladys asked.

“That’s my husband, Jeremy.”

“You’re married? How wonderful.”

Bea smiled but didn’t want Aunt Gladys to get sidetracked. “So when was he born?”

“I can’t believe Junie has a granddaughter old enough to be married. Makes me feel ancient.”

“Aunt Gladys—”

“I am, of course. Ancient. Only two more months and I’ll be eighty-nine.”

“Yes, that’s amazing. But when was the baby born?”

“I’ll never forget.” Aunt Gladys paused. “I’ve never seen a woman so broken. It was August 17, 1976. Junie was barely eighteen. She thought the adoption would be better for everyone, but . . .”

Bea chewed her top lip. She wasn’t that far from eighteen herself. “That’s a big decision to make at that age.”

The same words Dad had used to protest her marriage to Jeremy.

Aunt Gladys sighed. “I wish I knew what happened to him.”