Sarah's Legacy by Valerie Sherrard

think your great-aunt would have eventually realized that she wasn’t getting married and gone ahead and used them.”
    â€œIt’s strange that Sarah never married,” Mom said in a faraway tone. That’s the way she sounds when she’s sort of talking to herself, so I didn’t bother saying anything back.
    â€œShe was quite a beauty, you know.”
    â€œOld Sarah?” The idea astonished me. There were a few pictures of her around the house. I couldn’t quite imagine the wizened-up old woman whose likeness looked out sternly from gold-edged frames ever being attractive.
    â€œOh, yes. She was lovely. I guess you wouldn’t remember seeing her photographs in your grandmother’s album.”
    A clear recollection of black and white photos came to me, pictures I’d looked at many times in my grandmother’sliving room. As I lifted more doilies from the chest a face rose in my mind.
    â€œShe wasn’t the girl beside the tree with the big hat on, was she?”
    â€œThat was her.” Mom sounded pleased that I’d remembered.
    â€œBut she…” I sneezed as cat hair floated around my nose. “That couldn’t be her!”
    â€œAnd why couldn’t it?”
    â€œShe looked like a movie star in that picture!” “Yes, she did. I imagine there were all sorts of young men interested in her too.”
    â€œMaybe she liked cats and dogs better, even then,” I said grouchily. I was almost at the bottom of the chest by then and it was becoming clear there was nothing of any value in it. I lifted the last few items out and added them to the pile beside me on the floor. A layer of paper lined the bottom and I took it out just in case but there was nothing underneath.
    â€œEverything that matters is in the chest and I’m passing it on to you.”
    Remembering Sarah’s message, I felt cheated. What a weird thing to say about a quilt and a bunch of old pillowcases and stuff.
    â€œI suppose that Aunt Sarah wanted you to have these things for the day that you’re married,” Mom said, as if she’d read my mind. “These are all handsewnand embroidered. She must have put a lot of work into them.”
    I wasn’t cheered by the thought that her message had anything to do with me getting married and using all this junk someday. Most of it was yellowed with age anyway. But at least the chest itself was nice. It would look good in my room.
    I stood up, brushing cat hair off my jeans and trying unsuccessfully to hide my disappointment.
    â€œI’ll see if I can find out what kind of detergent might take out the age stains,” Mom said, as if that might perk me up. I tried to look happy at the idea, though I was secretly hoping it would all fall apart in the washer. I’d much rather use the trunk for my own stuff.
    I was startled from those thoughts by a ringing sound. It was immediately followed by the sound of Stoolie saying, “Hello? Hello?”
    â€œOh, I almost forgot to tell you. I had a phone installed today,” Mom said, as she hurried off to answer it.
    I followed her down the hall and into the living room where she was lifting the receiver and saying hello. The big question in my mind was who could be calling us. After all, if she’d just had the phone put in, no one would have our number yet.
    â€œSarah and I were just looking through a hope chest that my aunt left to her,” Mom said brightly. “No, no, it’s not a bad time. We’ve just finished. I can chat for a bit.”
    I decided she’d probably called Grammie and Grampie in Ontario and given them the number. Very likely they’d phoned back when I’d be there so they could speak to me. I plunked down on the sofa waiting my turn. It would be great to talk to my grandparents.
    â€œExcuse me for a second,” Mom said. She put her hand over the mouthpiece then and turned to me. “Is there something you