Page 107 of Our Own Light

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Standing on the front porch of Betty Astor’s home, Floyd took a moment to compose his thoughts. Golly, was he lucky to have been blessed with such a sharp memory. Without even meaning to, he had remembered the name of Betty Astor’s street, coupled with her house number. All it had taken was seeing these things written out on that envelope he’d found on Ollie’s kitchen counter. At the time, he hadn’t known how much he’d soon need them.

Now, even though Floyd had no way of knowing whether Ollie’s relative might be willing to purchase Matt’s coin collection, he still had to hope that he could convince her to buy it from him. Floyd felt certain that Betty could eventually sell the coins herself and make a profit. Floyd, though, couldn’t very well afford the time it would take to find individual buyers his own self. He simply couldn’t be frittering money away on newspaper advertisements. He had no time to seek out the various coin collectors in West Virginia who might be interested in purchasing one or two of Matt’s coins. He was ready for his future to start now.

After one more long exhale, Floyd knocked. Moments later, someone who he assumed was Ollie’s Aunt Betty answered.

“Hi. Are you Ms. Astor?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“I’m a friend of Ollie’s.”

One of her eyebrows ticked up ever-so-slightly. “Are you Floyd?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, ma’am. I wasn’t aware that Ollie already told you ’bout me.”

“How can I help you?”

“I have a proposition of sorts.”

“Oh?” she remarked, sounding intrigued.

Floyd nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“Hm. Come in.”

As Floyd followed her through her house, he had to fight to keep his hands from shaking. Something about her made him real nervous. Aside from Ollie and the Donohues, Floyd hadn’t really spent much time with people who had a lot of money. Seeing the way Ollie’s Aunt Betty carried herself and the large home she lived in was making him feel small. He wondered how silly he’d seem to her offering Matt’s coin-collecting book. It looked like she could afford plum near anything she wanted. What need would she have for the bit of extra money could make from these little old coins?

Aunt Betty led him to a room filled with books. Floyd had never seen so many in one place before. He reckoned there was probably more knowledge on only one of the shelves than he had stored up in his entire brain.

They took a seat next to one another on a soft green couch.

Floyd cleared his throat and said, “I came here to see if you would be interested in purchasing this here coin-collecting book. I know you probably ain’t a coin collector, but I need the money faster than I could make selling each of these my own self. I thought that maybe you could take your time finding some buyers here in Charleston or even elsewhere in West Virginia. You ought to be able to make some sort of profit that way.”

“And for what purpose do you need the money?”

“I’m trying to buy a farm for my family, ma’am.”

Wordlessly, Aunt Betty held out her hand—a silent request to look through Matt’s book. Floyd hesitated for a few seconds before handing it over. When the book left his possession, it felt a little like he had lost a piece of himself. It took some effort not to let it show. Holding his breath, Floyd watched her flip through the pages.

After looking at a couple, she asked, “Are you and Oliver happy together?”

“Uh, excuse me?” Floyd felt heat blooming on his cheeks. “What?”

“If you’re worried about me being scandalized by two men having a romantic relationship, you can rest assured that I am not.” Floyd hesitated before eventually managing a nod in response, and then Aunt Betty continued on. “So, I will ask you one more time: Are you and Oliver happy together?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Then why on earth would you want to leave Rock Creek? Won’t Oliver miss you?”

“He’s coming with me. I want us to buy a farm together.”

She hummed. “Mostly with his money, I assume.”

Floyd’s face was still burning, though now it was from shame. “Yeah. Mostly.”

“And you said you have a family?”

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