Page 104 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

“It has been,” I agreed. I’d probably be crying again too if I hadn’t already cried so much.

“There’s one last room to show you. If you’re interested,” she shrugged.

“Of course,” I smiled. I knew I couldn’t stay here forever and that we’d be leaving in a few days. But while I was here, I wanted to get to know my family.

She crooked a finger and led me back into the upstairs hallway. She opened a door at the end that had a narrow staircase leading up to the attic. “This is where my craft room is. It used to be downstairs, but it started taking over the whole house, so Doug told me I needed to move it somewhere else. I like it up here. It’s quiet. And since Doug is too lazy to climb the stairs I can get a lot done.”

The stairs opened up into a spacious attic. The sides of the room were sloped but you could move freely around the middle of the room. There were lots of storage organizers and a desk with paper spread across the top.

“I guess I’ll have time to show you how to make those stars,” she laughed, bumping my shoulder lightly like we were friends.

“I guess so.”

“You know, they call them lucky stars,” she mused.

“I need all the luck I can get,” I joked.

“Come here,” she led me to the desk where there were pre-cut strips of paper. “Sit down,” she insisted, pulling out a chair.

I did as she said and listened intently as she described the process of making the small paper stars. It didn’t seem too difficult, but knowing me it would be impossible.

After giving me the instructions, she grabbed a strip of paper and I watched as she turned it into a star.

“Now you try,” she handed me a piece of blue paper.

I made the knot and began to do the folds. When I finished, I glared at the monstrosity I had created.

“Mine looks nothing like a star,” I grumbled.

“Try again,” she coaxed. “It’s not that difficult once you get the hang of it.”

I tried again, watching her carefully as she folded her own small star. My second attempt was far better than my first, but still not perfect.

“See,” she smiled, “you’ve almost got it.”

Almost wasn’t good enough.

Turns out, third time was the charm.

“Beautiful,” Margaret clapped her hands together excitedly like I was a child that accomplished something mesmerizing.

She grabbed a piece of pink paper and began making another star. “You know,” she tapped her finger against the paper, “you can write a message on the paper before you turn it into a star.”

“Like what?”

“Anything you want,” she shrugged, pinching the points of the star. “Usually it’s exchanged between couples,” she winked and I blushed. “I have something I’d like to give you,” she said softly, moving away from the desk and to a far corner of the room. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for something on the top shelf of a large bookcase. She cradled a large mason jar in her hands. It was filled to the top with brightly colored origami stars. “Here,” she held it out for me to take. “I want you to have this.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, gazing at all the stars as I turned the jar around in my hands.

“Your father made those,” her voice grew quiet and she looked away from me as tears pooled in her eyes.

“I can’t take this,” I tried to hand the jar back to her, but she refused.

“No,” she shook her head hastily. “I want you to have it.”

“I can’t take this,” I whispered. I wanted them, after all it was something my dad had made, and all I had to remember him by were the photos my mom gave me, but it didn’t seem right to take them. They obviously meant a lot to her.

“I insist, honestly,” she forced a smile. “I have plenty. I don’t need these and you should have something of his.”

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