The Miser's Secret

“Jon Richards, CEO.” It was the name written on the wooden door that I was facing. A square glass pane provided a view of the office behind the door where a person was working behind a desk. That person was not Mr. Richards though, because she's a woman. I entered the room and saw that Sonia, the secretary was on the phone. On the left side of the room, there was a bigger desk with an expensive-looking notebook on it. A man was sitting behind it. That's our CEO. In addition to being tall and well-built, his tan skin made him an imposing figure. If it was not fo his clean-shaven face and the pair of glasses hanging on his nose, he would have been mistaken for an athlete.

“Got all the paperwork, Tom?” He asked.

“Yes, sir. I got everything.”

“Let's get this over with. Sonia, is the car ready?”

“Mr. Dat is waiting for you in the lobby sir.” The secretary answered. “Sir, will you be meeting with the creditors this evening?”

“No, let Jim handle it.” said Jon without pausing to think. Walking towards the exit, I saw his personal black van waiting with his driver Mr. Dat waiting by the open back door.

“Where to, sir?” The friendly Vietnamese driver asked as we both entered the car.

“Lowry's General Store. Don't rush, we have time.” He took off his suit and tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “I hate those guys.” He started reading the newspaper he had been carrying since morning.

“The Lowrys?” I asked, wondering what could two small store owners have done to offend him

“No, I meant creditors. I can handle the Lowrys. Creditors are annoying. All they want is their money back. Fortunately, James Foley is very good in dealing with them.”

“Isn't that yesterday's paper?” I noticed the date on Jon's paper, which was very odd since people usually did not read old newspaper.

“It is indeed.” He answered, smiling slyly like a fox.

I had been working for Richards' Corp. for two weeks but I still hadn't learnt everything about it. All I knew was Jon Richards was the CEO and James Foley was his main deputy, who was also the head of the finance department. As part of the legal department, my job focused solely on paperworks. Contracts, deeds, agreements, that kind of stuff. We were heading towards Lowry's General Store to negotiate something with them. What exactly we were negotiating, I didn't really know.

“What are we doing with the Lowrys?” I decided to ask.

“We're closing them down.”

“Excuse me?” The non-chalant reply kinda shocked me a bit, although it shouldn't have. I have heard stories about Jon Richards in my two weeks working for Richards Corp. He was a miser. He had no compassion. He was ruthless. He didn't care about other people than himself. Apparently, he picked up those traits from his father, who had founded and built the corporation. The rumor was that Douglas Richards, Jon's father, bribed the mayor to sell him the land now known as the Summertown Industrial Complex. He built his first factory in the area. Within a decade, half of the former commercial district had been taken over by Richards one by one, while the other half consists of distribution centers, warehouses and stores selling their products. Jon continued his father's policy of expansion, until you almost could not find a building not owned by Richards Corp in the complex. Those strong enough to resist, like the Lowrys, were threatened to have their rent increased tenfold, unless they agreed to enter some kind of a deal.

“You read the contract. They're giving discounts on other company's product.” He explained.

“The contract doesn't say they can't sell other company's products.” I browsed through the paperwork to refresh my memory.

“They can sell them, but they can't promote them. That's the deal. Oh, here we are.” The car pulled over into a small store, with a plank above the door that said 'Lowry's General Store, since 1961”. Wow! They've been here for almost fifty years. I was impressed. We both got out of the car and approached the store. Sure enough, more than half the racks were filled with Richards' products. Two elderly couple stood behind the counter, reading today's paper as there was no customer to serve.

“Mr. Richards! What a surprise.” said the man, putting down his paper.

“Mr. Lowry, Mrs. Lowry. This is Tom Whitfield from legal department.” Mr. Richards introduced me to the store owners.

“How do you do? I'm Ray, This is my wife Molly.” Despite the cold breeze outside, their hands felt warm as I shook hands with them.

“Nice store you have here. Since 1961?” I said, trying to make small talks.

“It's our legacy. We're proud of it.” Molly said, her face brimming lightly.

“Unfortunately, that legacy will end, Mrs. Lowry.” Jon's sharp words immediately turned both the Lowrys' faces pale.

“I don't understand, Mr. Richards. What do you mean?” She asked.

Jon laid down the newspaper he carried and pointed out an advertisement. I peeked at it and realized what it was. Oh no! I said silently. They had made a mistake. “You advertised that you slashed the prices of our competitors' products.” The advertisement in question showed the Lowry's logo, followed by pictures of non-Richards product. Next to each picture are two numbers, one higher than the other, with a straight line going through the higher number indicating that the products were being sold at the new lower price.

“But Mr. Richards,” Ray said, fear clearly showed in his voice, “We're trying to sell those products off as soon as possible. We wanted to make room on our racks for your products.”

“You know the rule, Lowry. You can't do a promotion on products that are not ours. This advertisement here counts as a promotion. You know what this means.” Unfortunately for them, Jon was right.

“Sir, please. Can't we let this one go. It's just one advertisement. We'll put a bigger one to promote yours.”

“That's not how business works, Lowry.” Jon's voice became sterner and sterner as the conversation went along. “Our current contract is void. Either you pay the current rate of rent, which is ten times than what you're paying now, or you sell your store to us.”

“But we can't afford the current rate of rent.” Molly protested.

“I knew that. I would make the preparation if I were you. I'm sorry it had to end this way, Mrs. Lowry. I really am.” Jon picked up the newspaper and started to walked out of the store. “You will hear from our lawyers. Come on Tom, we're done here.”

As we got into our cars, I could here Ray Lowry screaming. “You can't do this, Richards! This land doesn't belong to you! Your father got it illegaly! Someday, you're going down, Richards!”

“Goodbye, Mr. Lowry.” We drove away from the store with the Lowrys still screaming at our car. “Tom, prepare the paperwork.”

“Yes, sir.” Wow. What did I get myself into?

*

It had been two months since we took over Lowry's but time had not made me feel better. I drafted the legal documents of the purchase of Lowry's General Store by Richards Corporation. I felt guilty about it. Although It was not my decision, I felt like the executioner in that event. At least the amount was pretty good, definitely enough for their retirement. I doubt it would be a good enough solace for them though, as they seemed to enjoy working with their store. I was hopeful that I did not have to close down any more small businesses for the sake of Richards' expansion policy.

The hope turned out to be an empty one, when one day I received an email from Richards. He wanted me to prepare all the paperwork on the Trotts Orphanage. A meeting with the Trotts had been arranged the next morning. “Surely he's not going to close an orphanage!” I thought. Gathering all the relevant paperwork, I learnt that the orphanage's lease would expire in three months. “Maybe we're meeting to discuss an extension.” I tried to convince myself that Richards was not so bad that he would close down an orphanage and forced the children to live in the streets.

The next morning, I made my way to Mr. Richards office, only to find his table empty, with Sonia the only human being in the room.

“Good morning, Tom!”

“Is Mr. Richards not here yet?” I asked.

“He just called and said he's meeting with the board so he will be late,” she answered. “And he's moved the orphanage meeting to two.”

“What do you think he wants with the orphanage?”

“What do you think? He's closing it down. He just confirmed to me that we're going to use it as a warehouse. Oh, don't look so surprised. That's typical Richards," she said, smirking. "He would close down his mother's flower shop to expand his company."

I could not believe what I heard. I went back to my desk to prepare for the meeting. As I browsed through the sea of paperwork, I refreshed my memory about the status of the orphanage. They had a twenty year lease on the land and the building and it was about to expired in three months. Jon Richards could not force them to move until then. Unfortunately for them, Richards Corp had the first option on lease extension, meaning if corporation did not want to extend the orphanage's lease, they did not have to. The orphanage itself was visible from my window. I could see its light blue roof and beige wall, with a patch of green surrounding the building served as a reminder of what the area used to be, a lush park. Staring at the building, memories of the past started to enter my head as I drifted to a waking dream.

*

“Tom, I'm open!” I looked up and saw my teammate Andy waving furiously at me. I nervously set the soccer ball with my left foot and sent it towards him with my right. My momentum caused me to fall down and I was forced to watch him slyly rounded the other team's goalkeeper and put the ball in between the two sticks that we used as goalposts. “That's five! We win!” Andy jumped up and down in joy as we scored our fifth and winning goal.

“That was great Andy! You're probably the best six year old soccer player in Summertown!” I rushed towards him and congratulated him. Three-on-three soccer was one of our favorite past times. We had transformed the backyard of the orphanage into a multi-function sports field. Soccer, baseball, even basketball had been played on those grass. We did not have much equipment though so we had to use sticks as goalposts.

“Tom! Come in. There are a couple of nice people wanting to meet you.” It was the voice of Jack Trotts, who was the only father I had known until I was six years old. He and her wife Helen ran the house that I shared with the other orphans. I walked into the house and saw that he was having coffee with two strangers, a man and a woman. “Tom, this is Mr. and Mrs. Whitfield.”

It was time for me. I had seen it before with the other kids. One day the Trotts would pull one kid aside and introduce them to a couple for a potential adoption. For the lucky ones, they would get a family. For those who were not so lucky, Jack and Helen would raise them until they finish high school, then they can decide for themselves what they wanted to do. Some went to college, with the help of a student loan. Others stayed to help with the day-to-day operation of the orphanage. I was one of the lucky ones.

The living room was quite, with no other children in sight. It was always expected when Jack or Helen met with prospective parents to talk about adoption. Compared to the well-dressed couple sitting in front of him, Jack was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of shorts as usual. He was always very casual, very easygoing. I walked slowly, shyly towards the Whitfields and shook their hands. “Nice to meet you, sir, ma'am.”

“I'll leave you three alone.” Mr. Trotts left me with the couple who would become my adoptive parents. In two weeks, it was settled. I would leave the orphanage and be renamed Tom Whitfield. I still remembered the day I left. Saying goodbye to the kids, to Mr. Trotts, to the orphanage itself. I never came back, although it had to be fate that brought me to work for its neighbor, the Richards Corp. Unfortunately, I found out that my boss was not very neighborly, and the idea of working for someone who was about to destroy my childhood home suddenly made me feel very sick.

*

“Mr. and Mrs. Trotts here to see you.” The clock on my desk said 12.50 when the receptionist informed me of their arrival. I had not seen them since my adoption day, although they called several times to check on me. Embarrassingly, I had to admit that I did not think of them much, having been absorbed into a new life and a new family. I had only come back to the orphanage two times, a number that I wished had been higher after learning the impending fate of my former home.

"Thank you, Marie." I hung up the phone and headed to the reception area to meet the couple who took me in after my parents were killed in a car accident. As I approached the waiting room, I saw them. They're still the same selves, just older. I noticed Jack's hair had turned completely gray, and the wrinkles in Helen's face had become difficult to disguise. Nevertheless, they were still full of smile exchanging pleasantries with Susan, our receptionist.

“Jack, Helen, How are you?” I gave them each an honest hug from the bottom of my heart as I was truly happy to see them.

“Tom! We were pleasantly surprised to hear that you work for Richards. We're neighbors!”

“Let's hope it stays that way.” My sigh quickly reversed the atmosphere 180 degrees. “I heard Mr. Richards is not extending the lease. Oh, there he is!” A black van passing by the building gate suddenly alerted me to the arrival of the devil. From the second floor, I could see the van pulled over to the parking spot reserved for the upper management, close to the lobby. As Mr. Richards made his way out of his car into the building, I motioned to my guests to lead them to the meeting room. “Let's wait in the meeting room.”

While waiting for Mr. Richards, Jack explained that he had been trying to secure a permanent place for the kids. But the economy boom of Summertown had made it impossible due to the steadily increasing price of lands and houses. The development of the industrial complex also had made the area unideal for children to live and play in. Parks had been replaced with pollution spewing factories, and the school that used to stand within walking distance to the orphanage had closed, forcing the children to commute thirty minutes everyday to reach their school.

“Mr. Trotts, Mrs. Trotts, I apologize for my tardiness.” Jack's story was interrupted by the arrival of our CEO. “I didn't expect the board meeting to go for hours.”

“Mr. Richards, thank you for meeting us,” Jack said. “As we have said in our letter, we would like to extend our lease, keeping the current rate, on the orphanage for another ten years.”

“Mr Trotts, I have discussed this matter with the board, and I'm sorry to deliver a bad news. The board wanted to use the building as a warehouse and therefore, will not extend your lease, and especially not at the current rate. The value in this area had increased considerably in the last twenty years. I'm afraid you have to vacate the property in two months. I'm really sorry but you have to find another place for your children.”

“We have pursued alternative places to house the children, but we can't afford the lease anywhere else. This current rate is all we can afford.”

“Mr. Richards,” I interrupted. “Our warehouse upstate is operating at under forty percent capacity. We do not need another warehouse.”

“Tom, that warehouse has always been a temporary one. We have been wanting to use the orphanage building as a warehouse for many years.” He answered.

“Mr. Richards, please think of the children. They need to be taken care of.” Jack tried to plead, sounding desperate.

“This is not a third world country, Mr. Trotts. The government will take care of them.”

Mr. Richards maintained a straight, stern face throughout the meeting, which last about thirty minutes. Because of the nature of the lease deal, the Trotts did not have much leverage in the discussion. They were at the mercy of the corporation, and, despite their and my best effort to persuade Richards, the mercy did not come. The decision had been made. They had to leave the orphanage in two months with very little chance of finding a new place by then. Jack and Helen maintained a dignified posture as they left the office, although I could see the stress and sadness painted on their face.

The rest of the day flew by in auto-pilot. I sat in my desk with my eyes gazing across the street. A yellow bus stopped in front of the orphanage, dropping off the older children from school. Younger children were playing ball in the backyard under the supervision of an adult volunteer. Those were just some of the activities that I could witness to alleviate myself from the boredom of work. Thanks to Mr. Richards, I would witness them no more.

*

It had been two weeks since the meeting and the hammering of the nails on the orphanage's coffin. I spent those two weeks contemplating. Who is this guy Richards anyway? Do I need him? No, I don't need him. I can find work anywhere else. Why should I work for a heartless man who destroyed my childhood home, and the home of many other children. And I had made my decision. I finished typing a letter and thought about sending it by email but I decided against it. I would give it to him in person. With the press of a button, the content of the letter copied itself from the monitor to a piece of paper. I took letter, my resignation letter, and kept it in my drawer, because Mr. Richards was not in the office so it had to wait until Monday. As I was getting ready to go home, an email was suddenly delivered to my inbox. It was from Jack Trotts. What could be the matter? I double-clicked the email to enlarge it so I could read it:

Hey, Tom! Good news. The Summertown Charity Foundation had decided to take us in and they had found a new place for our new orphanage. Their benefactor had donated some money to us but unfortunately, we're still short so we're going to do some fund raising. I'm going to meet with them this evening. Why don't you come down to the Foundation and check out the details. The address is 55 Mission Ave.

Regards,

Jack Trotts.

Ah, good news. It was nice to know that people still cared. I heard about the Foundation before. Their headquarters was located not far from my apartment, so I decided to stop by on the way home. No one knew who established the foundation. It just appeared out of nowhere one day. They had done lots of goods to the city though, so I can't complain about their existence. I was thinking about how I could help. Maybe I would help with the fund raising, or I could donate some money myself.

As I parked my car, I noticed a familiar black van. Isn't that Mr. Richards' car? I shrugged off the thought. A miser like him had no business being here. Immediately behind the double door was the lobby area. To the left was a long couch, long enough to fit three people. A line of potted plants decorated the right side of the lobby. Above them was a banner with a slogan written on it. It said 'GIVING BACK TO SOCIETY', all in capital letters. Directly in front of me was the reception area. On the table was a newsletter, apparently their own. I noticed two familiar faces on the front page. It was The Lowrys! I picked one up and read that the foundation rent them a place near downtown where they set up their new store. I was happy and relieved to here the news, and helped reduce my guilt for closing down their old store.

“Can I help you, sir?” A male receptionist asked.

“Is there a Mr. Jack Trotts here? I heard he's going to be here.”

“I'm sorry sir. Mr. Jack Trotts is having a private meeting with the benefactor. They have asked not to be bothered.”

“Oh, okay them. Mind if I look around?”

“Go ahead sir.”

I walked through a long hallway behind the receptionist. A billboard on the wall showed the projects that the foundation is working on. I didn't see anything on the orphanage though. As I made my way to the second floor in this three-story building, I heard two people talking inside the first room from the stairs. It must have been the meeting room, I thought. I peeked through the window pane and see Jack, who was having a meeting with another man whose face I could not see well, who was probably the benefactor. He looked rather young, maybe in his late thirties. As he turned a little bit to his left, I could see his more clearly. Too my surprise, it was an all too familiar face, the face of Jon Richards. Surprised, I stayed close to the door to hear their conversation.

“Mr. Richards, thank you very much for helping us. I was surprised to find out that you're the benefactor of a charity foundation.”

“Why is that?”

“Let's just say the reputation of your father is not very flattering, and his blood runs in yours.”

“Actually, it doesn't.”

“It doesn't?”

“Mr. Trotts, the reason why I build this foundation lies in my past. I am not a Richards. Like the children that you're caring for, I was an orphan. Douglas Richards adopted me when I was five, because he and his wife could not conceive a child. They raised me as their son and eventually I inherited my father's company. Despite all this, I can't forget my past as an orphan. I decided to build this foundation to help the unfortunates like my father had helped me, but I wanted to be discreet. A lot of things that we do here have conflicts of interest with the corporation, such as the situation with your orphanage. That's why I hid my identity and used a fake name when building this foundation.”

“Why didn't you just let the old orphanage be?”

“What many people didn't know is that I didn't make all the decisions. We have a board of directors and we vote on important decisions. I tried to defend the orphanage, but the board wouldn't budge. They wanted the whole area for the corporation. I'm sorry I couldn't save it.”

I had heard enough. I quietly left the building not knowing what to think. So Jon Richards was an orphan, and he had been running a charity foundation secretly. I tried to make sense of all this. How could someone run two different organizations with two very opposite goals? One was built as a money making machine while the other a money giving one. Regardless, one thing is clear. I went home knowing that the orphanage could be saved.

*

The following Monday, I received another letter from Jack about the new orphanage. It was in a nice location upstate, closer to the school. It turned out that it was owned by Richards' Corp. but Jon managed to convince the board to sell it on the cheap, with him funding half the cost through the foundation. The rest would have to be funded through other means, such as a fund raising event that Jack had planned. In the end, the orphans would have a new, better home. I reached for my resignation letter and promptly tore it apart and threw it to the empty trash bin underneath my desk. There was no need for that letter now, because I discovered the miser's secret.

The Grandma Diary

Sunny weather greeted a red sedan as it pulled into the driveway of a small wooden house. Its wall consisted of several logs stacked on top of each other, interlocked with notches at their ends. The red paint of the front door showed some luster but the window on the other end of the front wall was very clean and well-kept, as one could see the bedroom quite clearly on the other side. An old woman could be seen peering through the window, expecting the arrival of the car. A middle-aged woman ran sprinting out the front door to greet the two car passengers.

“Mrs. Tanner, how are you?” She said as she helped the driver opened the front left door. A woman stepped out the vehicle, her friendly smile disguising her tiredness after a long drive.

“Hello, Nelly!” Sarah Tanner gave the stout housekeeper a hearty hug. Her blue blouse and black trousers were a sharp contrast from the house's rural surroundings. “How's my mother?”

“She's been better. Dr. Gladstone will come tomorrow to check on her.” Nelly looked inside the car as if she was looking for someone. “Where's Miss Kara? Isn't she coming?”

“Kara, come out of the car.” Sarah shouted to the other person in the car. A youthful girl stepped out of the car's right hand side but her complexion was the exact opposite from that of the two older women. Instead of a broad, friendly smile, her lips formed an arching frown. There was no spark coming out from her eyes, only a sharp stare fitting for a demon.

“Hello Nelly,” said Kara Tanner unenthusiastically.

“Miss Kara, it's been awhile!” Nelly maintained her friendly tone despite the teenager's attitude. “You didn't come last year. Your grandmother missed you.”

“I almost didn't come this year.” Kara said as she lazily walked towards the house.

“Kara, bring your bag!” Her mother unsuccessfully tried to give her an order.

“It's okay, Mrs. Tanner. I'll bring Miss Kara's bag.” Nelly opened the trunk of the car and the two women grabbed the two luggages that had been sleeping tightly inside the compartments. “Miss Kara doesn't seem so happy.” Nelly expressed her concern to her mistress' daughter as they dragged the bags into the house.

“She's had other plans for the summer,” Sarah said. “But she didn't come last year so I insisted that she come this year.” She sighed. “Teenagers can be a handful.”

“Sometimes I feel lucky I never got married.” Nelly laughed as they entered the house.

The log house was rather old but very welcoming with its wooden architecture giving a countryside aura, perfect for anyone who wanted to escape the busy cities. The main door lead directly to the living room, where a television stood proudly like a king surrounded by its furniture subjects, which included three sofas and a coffee table. The kitchen retreated to the back, with a dining table separating it from the living room. On the right side of the room were two doors guarding the entrance to the bedrooms, one smaller than the other. As they entered, the door to the larger bedroom gave way to a wheelchair with the mistress of the house on it.

“Hi Sarah! Why are you wearing work clothes?” said the elderly woman, noticing her daughter's out of place outfit.

“Hi mom! I had a meeting with our supplier and it was on the way here so,” explained Sarah. “Anyway, how are you, mom? What did the doctor say?”

“Oh, don't you worry about what the doctor said.” She turned her head and saw her only granddaughter sitting motionlessly in one of the sofa. “Hey Kara! You come this year! Wow, you've changed a lot in the pass two years.”

The teenager walked over and gave her grandmother a brief hug. “Hi grandma.”

“Oh, dear. You sound tired. Long drive?” her grandmother inquired, noticing the weak tone coming from Kara. “Oh, I just know the thing that will energize you dear! Nelly, bring the cupcakes!”

“Cupcakes?” Kara managed to pull out her first smile of the day.

“I know you love them. I made some for you last year but you didn't come. Your mother ended up eating your portion.”

Sarah laughed listening to her mother's story as Nelly walked out of the kitchen with a tray of cupcakes. “I didn't eat them all. I gave some to our neighbor.”

“The Ferringtons? I made cupcakes for them every week. Come on girls, have some.”

Kara needed no invitation as she grabbed one before her grandmother finished her sentence. The sweet taste of the pastry seemed to brighten her spirit as it made its way down her throat, if only temporarily. “Where do I sleep mom?” She asked her mother, hoping to catch some nap before dinner.

“Do you want to sleep with me in the guest room or do you want the attic?”

Kara weighed up her options and decided that she needed the privacy. “I'll sleep in the attic.” she said as she grabbed her bag while finishing her cupcakes. “I'll be napping till dinner.” She went up the stairs located next to the kitchen and disappeared from sight.

“I'm sorry. She's still very upset that I forced her to spend part of her summer here.” Sarah apologized for her daughter's behavior.

“It's okay if she doesn't come.” Her mother assured her. “We see each other in Thanksgiving. Besides, she's a teenager. I'm sure she has other plans.”

“Thanksgiving is just one dinner per year. I want her to spend more time with her grandmother.” Sarah said. “Besides, if what the doctor said is true...”

*

Kara entered the attic bedroom and dropped her bag next to the single bed in the middle of the room. Other than the bed, a small dresser and two nightstands made up the furnishing. Despite being the darkest area of the house, the lighting was very good as the ceiling lamp was complimented with a light stand. From the window, one can see the Ferrington farm, one of the neighbors in the small countryside town. Kara lied down on the bed while her fingers were busy punching several buttons on her cellphone. After a few seconds, her call was answered.

…
“Hi Elaine! Are you guys in L.A.?”
…
“Oh, how lucky you are.”
…
“I know, I wish I'm there too but my mom forced me to spend two weeks in this place.”
…
“Yes, it sucks but what can I do? She's my mom.”
…
“I don't know what I'm going to do for two weeks. There's barely anything in this town.”
…
“Yeah, okay. Have fun guys!”
…

“ Why am I stuck here while my friends are having fun?” she thought. She picked up her bag and put it on top of the wooden dresser. Her hands rummaged through her clothes but did not find the item she was looking for. “Oh, damn”. She sighed. “I forgot to bring a book.” Closing her bag, she lied down again with her hands on her face. “What am I going to do now?”. Her eyes circled the room and were drawn towards the nightstand to the left of the bed. Its single drawer was slightly open, inviting her to look inside. She reached for the open drawer and found a single item: a book. It was slightly covered with dust. She picked it up and blew away the dust, revealing that it was a diary. Though it was in a good condition, the discoloration of its pages betrayed its age. “This must have been here for a long time.” Kara thought. She turned the cover and the only sentence on the first page revealed the book's owner.

“This diary belongs to: Julia Rollins.”

“Who's Julia Rollins?” Kara tried to remember if there was anyone in her family named Julia Rollins but she was certain there was none. On the bottom of the page, a date was written: January 13, 1965. “1965! This book had been here for 45 years!” Surprised, she started to flip the pages of the book and got to the last few pages. She did not know why the diary suddenly interested her as she read one of the entries:

June 10.
Dear Diary,

I am so happy today. We finally arrived at grandma's lodge. It was a long trip, three hours from Summertown. Grandma looks older and thinner, but she's very cheerful as usual. Jason and I competed to see who can ate the most cupcakes. Grandma makes very delicious cupcakes. My brother beat me 5 cupcakes to 4. She promised to make more tomorrow! Oh, I can't wait to have more. Afterwards, the three of us took a walk to the lake. I love that lake! Mom and Dad didn't want to come. They said they had to discuss something with Dr. Kendricks. We played at the lake until 6, then we went back for dinner. I can't wait for tomorrow!

“I wonder who she is.” she thought as she let out a yawn. She put the diary back into the drawer and closed her eyes. “I have plenty of time to read it. It's time for a nap.” It was the last thought that entered her mind before she drifted off to sleep.

*

Whole roast chicken, potato salad and onion soup had been prepared by the expert hands of Nelly when Kara made her way to the dinner table. She took her seat on one end of the rectangular table as the housekeeper set the table for a four-person dinner. Glancing through the window, she could see that her mom and grandmother were chatting on the front porch.

“Want me to call them, Miss Kara?” Nelly asked.

“No. Let's wait for them. I'm not that hungry.” As they waited, the diary she found in the bedroom suddenly aroused her curiosity. “Nelly, do you know who Julia Rollins is? I found her diary in the attic.”

“Of course, I do.” Nelly answered. “I used to play with the Rollins' kids. They used to live here before your grandparents bought it forty five years ago right after they got married.”

“She wrote that her grandmother made very nice cupcakes.

“Her cupcakes were just as good as your grandmother's.” Nelly looked at her mistress' granddaughter intently and asked “Miss Kara, you don't seem happy seeing your grandmother. May I ask why?”

“I'm supposed to go to Los Angeles with a bunch of friends, Nelly.” Kara explained. “This is our summer together. Next year everyone will be off to college.”

“Last summer with your friends?” Nelly paused to think about something. “Miss Kara, maybe you should know...”

The front door suddenly opened and the two women who were conversing on the porch entered.

“Looks like dinner's ready!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Nelly makes the best onion soup.” said her mother. “Isn't that right, Nelly?”

“You're just flattering me ma'am.” The housekeeper blushed. “If you or Kara want me to make a specific meal, please let me know.” She said to Sarah.

“It's okay Nelly. Kara and I will cook tomorrow. Won't we, Kara?” Sarah winked at her daughter, only to be responded with a frown. “Okay, I'm starving. Let's eat.”

*

Sarah Tanner laughed out loud as she finished her last piece of the potato salad. “That is so funny! I never got bored of the story.”

“It's not funny. It's embarrassing.” Kara expressed her differing opinion. “I don't want you to tell it again.”

“Okay, dear. I promise. But it was a long time ago. You should be able to laugh at it now.” Her grandmother laughed. “I should retire now to my bedroom now. You're welcome there anytime dear. I want to listen to your stories.” The elderly woman wheeled her chair into the bedroom.

Sarah picked up her dishes and brought them to the kitchen, followed by her daughter. As she looked around the kitchen, an idea suddenly entered her head. “Nelly, what time does my mom usually wake up?”

“She usually wakes up at 6, ma'am.” answered Nelly while washing the dishes.

“Let me help you with that.” Sarah grabbed a dirty plate and started to pour warm water on it. “I think we should surprise grandma by preparing breakfast tomorrow. What do you think, Kara? Can you wake up at 5 and help me make breakfast?”

Kara thought for several seconds but answered negatively. “Not tomorrow, mom. I don't feel like it.”

“You don't seem well. Are you okay?” Sarah asked her daughter.

“I'm fine. If you don't need me here, I want to get back to my room.” With those words, she left the kitchen and headed to the attic.

Kara had barely reached her bed when the bedroom door suddenly opened. Her mother had followed her into the room with a noticeable change of mood.

“What is the matter with you, Kara!” Sarah said with a scolding tone. “I took you here so you can spend some time with your grandmother!”

“I had made other plans, mom!” answered Kara with an equally high tone. “Next summer we'll be off to college. This is the last time I can spend summer together with my friends.”

“If you really don't want to be here, you can take the bus tomorrow morning and go home!” The usually composed mother stormed off the room, leaving Kara alone and unhappy.

“Whatever,” she thought. “No book, no DVDs, no entertainment. Maybe I should go home tomorrow.” She closed her eyes trying to fall asleep but her earlier nap had made her eyes unwilling to comply to her intention. After thirty minutes, she gave up and picked up her cellphone. 1 new message. “It must've been sent while we were eating.” She quickly opened her inbox to retrieve the message.

“Hey Kara! We're in Disneyland! Do you want anything? We're going to shop now. Text us back!”

Disgruntled, she threw her cellphone into her bag. “All I want is to be there with you guys.” She looked around the room looking for something to do. Seeing no other choice, she picked up the diary and continued reading.

June 12.
Dear Diary,

I'm sorry I didn't write yesterday. Grandma suddenly got ill and we had to take her to the hospital. She looked very pale and weak. We didn't do much but sat by her side. Dr. Kendricks said we have to prepare for the worst. We're all praying and hoping for her recovery. Today was more or less the same. She's not getting better. I'm so afraid. I don't want to lose her. I will miss her cupcakes. I will miss her cheerfulness. I will miss spending my summer with her. Pray with me diary. Please.....

“Doctor?” Suddenly the story in the diary felt closer to home. “Didn't mom say something about a doctor treating grandma? Could it be?” Suddenly something new filled her very soul. Concern had replaced resentment. “What if grandma is ill like her grandmother?”

June 13.
Dear Diary,

It's the saddest day of my life. Grandma passed away this morning. My brother and I couldn't stop crying. My mother said we shouldn't be sad for too long. Instead, we should remember the memories. The happy memories of spending time together every summer at the lodge. Remember her advice, her food, her laugh. Harder said than done. But I know we have to try. This is what grandma would've wanted us to do.

Julia's words struck her heart as if they were talking straight to her. The feeling of anger at being forced to change her summer plans had completely gone, replace by guilt. Memories of her own grandmother started to fill her head. “She sounded very sad when her grandmother died. I still had mine. Why am I so selfish? I should cherish every moment while she's still alive.” She immediately got up and headed straight down. She had an apology to make.

*

The clock showed 6 o'clock when the smell of maple syrup and corned beef hash filled the log house. As Nelly pushed her mistress' wheelchair to the dining room, Sarah and her daughter had been busy preparing the table.

“Did you make breakfast already, Nelly?” asked the old woman.

“No, ma'am.” she answered. “Our guests made the breakfast.”

“Oh, you two shouldn't have bothered. We have Nelly.”

“We wanted to do something nice. Besides, we woke up really early and couldn't get back to sleep so, we decided to make breakfast.” Sarah said.

“Look, grandma! I can make pancakes now.” Kara said excitedly. “Just like you taught me.”

“That's wonderful, dear. I'm glad you feel happier today.”

“I'm sorry for yesterday, grandma. I would love to spend this summer with you. Why don't we go to that lake this afternoon.” Kara suddenly remembered the lake that Julia wrote in the diary. “I heard it's very beautiful.”

“That's a wonderful idea, dear.” Her grandmother said as the whole family prepared to spend the first day of summer together.