She never told Kevin that she’d found out where his dad was, or that he had all those kids. She supposed she should have told Kevin he had a flock of half-siblings—then again, he didn’t know about the baby girl she’d given up for adoption, either. But Kevin was a nice boy—kind and sensitive—and she knew those things would upset him terribly. In any event, she was grateful that he looked like her, so she wasn’t constantly seeing the image of the man who she’d once married.

Together, Donna and Kevin had a good enough life. She did, however, feel guilty about not telling him where his dad had gone, especially when he snuck off to Red Sox games, as if she didn’t know, as if she hadn’t figured out that he was trying to find his father. She’d found a ticket stub once, in Kevin’s jacket pocket. Another time she found a list of the lineup when the Sox were playing the Yankees. Kevin must have been convinced that his dad wouldn’t have missed that one.

Both Donna and her son had a similar reason for their very different goals: for Donna, the trunk represented a secret to a better life; for Kevin, finding his dad meant the same thing. Donna knew they had about the same odds—none—of reaching their goals. But she refused to let that stop her. And though she was sad for Kevin that he never saw his dad again, she was elated when she found the Vuitton.

The first thing she did the day she brought it home was tuck the ticket stub and the Sox/Yankees lineup in a pocket inside the lid, along with a handful of photos of Kevin with his dad that he did not know existed. Then Donna locked the trunk—to be opened at some time in the future. Like the tiny case for doll clothes, the Vuitton would keep her secrets safe.

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Monday morning, Annie worked for a couple of hours then walked down to her cottage from the Inn. After having left a voice mail message for Larry the night before, she’d gone back to her temporary room in the half-finished Inn, then tossed and turned all night. She hadn’t even talked to John when he’d called to say good night; she chose, instead, to have him think she was asleep.