Free Regarding Anna by Florence Osmund

had ever called me Gracie was my mother. I pleaded with my emotions to remain under control.
    I told her about the box of mementoes and other things I’d found in the attic, including the photo of the woman I was convinced was Anna holding a baby I was convinced was me. Then I told her about the second photo of the woman in the rocking chair and the inscription on the back, CELINA THALIA VARGAS—JUST HOME FROM THE HOSPITAL, and my own photo of me as a baby wearing the same dress as the baby in the first photograph.
    “What does that prove? Maybe your mother and Anna knew each other.”
    “But the inscription on the back of the one in the rocking chair wasn’t one a friend would write—it’s something a mother would write.”
    “All babies look alike. Maybe that wasn’t you.”
    “But the dress—”
    “Walk into any Monkey Wards. They have more than one copy of the same dress.”
    “And here’s the other thing, Minnie. My middle name is Thalia. And the baby she’s holding has the same middle name. And guess what Anna’s middle name was. Thalia. That’s a pretty uncommon name, don’t you think?”
    “Well, I’ll give you that.”
    “So you’ll help me?”
    She shrugged. “I’ll tell you everything I know, but I’m not sure how much that will help you.”
    “Thank you.”
    “God only knows why, but I like you.”
    “I like you too.”
    “Of course you do—you want something from me.”
    “No, it’s—”
    “How’s the Scotch?”
    “It’s beginning to grow on me.”
    “Another?”
    “Maybe just half, and while you’re pouring, may I ask you something?”
    “Do you see anything stopping you?”
    “What made you change your mind on talking to me?”
    She turned to face me and heaved an audible sigh. “You put a lot of thought into that winterberry bush, and a lot of effort getting it here, even if it was utterly stupid to think it would survive a winter planting. But stupidity aside, I was touched by what you did—says something about your character.”
    She handed me my glass and sat back down.
    “So do you want to know what I know, or do you want to spend the next hour getting all sappy over each other?”
    “I like a little sap now and again.”
    “Well, I don’t, so here’s what I know.” She looked down at her lap and played with one of the buttons on her dress. For a brief moment, I thought she was going to say something else that would fit into the category of “sappy,” but then she didn’t.
    “I think I told you after I lost my Clarence and little Muriel, I couldn’t live in that house any longer, so I sold it and bought this place. It was the summer of ’43. Apparently, Anna didn’t have a will or any family because I bought it from the state. And the funny thing is that less than a week after I bought it, someone offered to buy it from me for a thousand dollars more than what I paid for it. Can you imagine that?”
    “Do you remember the name of the person who wanted to buy it?”
    “No. But I never throw anything away. If I wrote it down, I probably still have it somewhere. I’ll hunt for it if you like, even though I don’t know how it will help you.”
    “I’d appreciate that. And if you don’t mind me seeing all the closing documents, they may reveal something as well.”
    “Okay. Like I said, I don’t throw anything out.”
    “I’m sorry. Go on.”
    “I didn’t know what had happened to Anna before I bought the house, and when I found out, I was horrified.”
    “You had started to tell me last time about some rumors going around about Anna.”
    “Let me tell you about the boarders first. Then I think the rumors will make more sense.”
    I was feeling a little buzz from the alcohol and was afraid I’d forget some of what she had told me by the time I got home. “Do you mind if I take notes?”
    “Be my guest. The boarders. They were something else. Let me tell you about the dead one first—Mark Smith. I bought the house in late May, moved in