Page 87 of Save the Drama for your Mama
Cooper looked pleased. “I’d appreciate the help, although I have a feeling it will take a while to go through everything up there.”
“I may have tomorrow off as well,” I said, still surprised he said yes. “I’ll find out later, but at least I can get started for now and see how far I get.”
Cooper nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll get you the key when we get home.”
My mind raced with possibilities of what else I might find up there. More old photos and letters, antiques, mysterious boxes filled with who knows what. It pleased me that I could do something useful for him, although the idea of uncovering more hidden secrets in that old attic thrilled me to no end.
Alfredo eyed the two of us. One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Seems like you two are getting along nicely as of late.”
Cooper and I exchanged a quick glance.
I felt my cheeks grow warm.
“Well, you know . . .” I playfully leaned closer to Cooper and bumped shoulders with him. “He grows on you after a while. Like fungus.”
He smirked. “And she’s almost bearable now.”
“Hey!” I said, laughing, then poked him in the side.
“I see, I see.” Alfredo nodded, still wearing that little smirk, then eyeing the ring on my finger. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me? Any plans for the future?”
I held up my finger. “Oh, no, this? It’s not what you think. The ring got stuck when we were messing around.”
“Messing around, huh? That is a term I am familiar with,” Alfredo said.
“Notthatkind of messing around,” I said.
“Just a little joke between us, so don’t read into it too much,” Cooper added. “Anyway, I need to get back to my writing. We’ll see you later, Alfredo.”
We both gave him a hug, then walked back to the house.
“I really like him,” I said, as we got to the front porch.
“He’s a good man,” Cooper said. “Bearable, like you.” He laughed and nudged me with his arm. “Just kidding. I’m enjoying your company.”
“Likewise,” I said, nudging him right back.
I was over the moon when we got home and Cooper handed me the attic key and grinned. “Make me proud.”
“Oh, believe me, I will,” I said. “Good luck with your writing.”
I was touched by his trust in me.
Eagerly climbing the attic stairs, I wondered what treasures awaited. Right away, I found a gorgeous hand-carved gemstone globe tucked inside a box. After admiring it and taking notes, I uncovered antique linens, including an exquisite century-old wedding veil. Digging deeper, I found vintage cameras and, to my delight, an ammunition box filled with rare coins, including my favorite buffalo nickels. This collection was worth a fortune.
Finding such treasures thrilled me and made me wonder if appraising and collecting was my true calling.
I smiled when I uncovered a hand-carved antique rocking horse, imagining Cooper playing cowboy on it as a boy. Then I came across a box marked “Sandra’s Manuscripts” that contained early drafts of her novels. They offered a window into her creative process that I found fascinating.
After a brief break to use the restroom and eat a sandwich, I continued in the attic. The day flew by. This was amazing fun, not work.
Later in the afternoon, I found a folder labeled “Contracts.” Curious, I opened it to find a thick packet with legal documents. It outlined an opportunity to adapt Sandra’s novels into a major television series, for an enormous sum of money. I was stunned because the contract wasn’t signed. Why on earth had she turned down a life-changing amount of money and exposure?
Hoping for some answers, I perused Sandra’s diaries from the same era and read for almost two hours straight before I found what I was looking for.
Hollywood had offered Sandra a fortune to adapt her novels for television. Despite being flattered, she declined, given her diagnosis of only having two years to live. She knew those shows on TV would be a constant reminder to Cooper and Chad that she was gone. She hadn’t told a soul about the diagnosis or offer, and just wanted to cherish their last days together and see each morning as a gift.
I stared at the entry in the diary, the words blurring. It took a few moments before I understood the significance of what she had written.
