“Wasn’t there a Titanic connection with teddy bears?” Maggie asked.

“There was. After the Titanic sank in 1912 the Steiff company made five hundred black teddy bears and advertised them as presents to give to those in mourning.”

Diana made a face. “Gross. And depressing.”

“There were happier teddies. Like the one A.A. Milne gave to his son Christopher on his first birthday. That teddy was the model for Winnie-the-Pooh, published in 1926.”

“I never thought about toys having history,” said Diana.

“Don’t get her started; she hasn’t even mentioned Smokey the Bear,” Maggie pointed out.

“And don’t forget Paddington!” said Gussie. “That’s why I love children’s books and toys. They’re a part of our lives.”

“By the way, Gussie, if you ever want to do an exhibit of special Roosevelt items, like teddy bears, and maybe Theodore Roosevelt games or cards, we could also include prints and political cartoons related to him. And perhaps Franklin Roosevelt, too. Did you know FDR was a major collector of American prints? He started collecting when he was governor of New York State, looking for views of the Hudson River between Hyde Park, where he lived, and Albany. Then when he was Secretary of the Navy he collected American navy prints to decorate his New York City home. Both his collections went with him when he moved to the White House. Today they’re all in his library at Hyde Park.”

“Interesting, Maggie. But right now I’m not focused on history. I’m focused on getting into my new house before my wedding. If we’re going to get everything packed up, we need to start,” said Gussie.

“Got it. Sorry,“ said Maggie. “I get carried away when I’m thinking about history and prints. Where do you want us to begin?”

“Most of my stock is down here in the shop area. It’s already in boxes. I only need to add bubble wrap, find tops for the boxes, and label them,” said Gussie. “I can do that myself because everything’s at a level I can reach. You ladies go on upstairs and start on the closets. Just pack everything.” She sighed. “I’ll go through things when I unpack. Cartons and packing materials are in the living room. Maggie, you can show Diana.”

“Will do, boss,” said Maggie, saluting Gussie. “Come on, Diana. Let’s see how fast we can get this done.”

They started on the two hall closets. “It’s amazing how much can be crammed into closets, isn’t it?” said Maggie. “These seem to be full of Christmas decorations and china. Why don’t you stand on the ladder and hand the china and boxes down to me? I’ll sort, and then we’ll both wrap and box so we don’t mix up the Santas with Gussie’s demitasse set.”

Within minutes they’d finished the top shelves of both closets. “I wish Gussie hadn’t emptied her kitchen first,” Maggie commented, failing miserably to separate tangled Christmas tree lights. “If we had plastic kitchen bags I’d try to put the strings of lights in separate bags.”

“Those are so tangled we’d be here all afternoon trying to separate them,” Diana commented. “I did those sorts of things at my house in Colorado when I had to clean it out.”

“Did the house sell?” Maggie asked.

“Not yet. I left a few boxes in the garage, and some furniture in the rooms. The real estate lady said it would be easier to sell if it looked like a home. It didn’t feel like my home anymore, though. If it sells while I’m away she’s going to have a few things, like the Christmas ornaments I want to keep, put in storage for me. The rest will go to Goodwill if the new owners don’t want it.”

“It must have been hard, going through everything alone.”

“It was hellish. Everything there reminded me of my mother, or my father, or of what my life would have been like if they hadn’t died.”

“What did your dad do in Colorado?”

“I don’t exactly know. He had an ordinary, boring job. He worked for a bank. He didn’t talk much about it, and I didn’t ask.”

“And then one day he just disappeared?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that! He died, or at least everyone thought he’d died, in an awful accident. It was a snowy night. He was on his way home from a business meeting on a slippery road in the mountains. His car went off the road and burst into flames.”

“And there was no doubt?”

“That he died? No! It was his car, and people at the meeting saw him get into it. The car completely burned up. There was nothing left. A policeman knocked on my dorm room door at college and told me.” Diana’s eyes filled up. “There was a death certificate. Someone at the bank helped me plan the funeral. No one ever questioned that he was dead.”

“When did all that happen?”

Diana blew her nose, and then wrapped the last of a group of fragile Christmas ornaments. “A little over two years ago. Somehow I finished the semester and then I took a leave of absence. I had too much to do, and I wasn’t ready to go back to a dorm and focus on books.”

“And you haven’t been back to school since.”

“No.” Diana looked guilty. “Mr. Dryden said you’re a professor, right?”

“I teach at a community college in New Jersey.”

“You probably think I was stupid to drop out.”

Got that right, Maggie thought. “People go back to college at all ages. It’s up to you. You have to decide what you want to do. But college can help you do that,” she said. “Have you thought about your future?”

“Not really. That’s one of the reasons I left Colorado. I decided to just drive. See America. So far I haven’t seen much. I decided to start in Winslow, so I drove straight through. I thought maybe since my family had come from the Cape, I’d feel at home here.”

“But?”

“I found Dad. But he wasn’t happy to see me. He was angry, and I was angry, and then he disappeared, and now he really is dead. I guess I should have stayed in Colorado. I feel worse now than I did there. And instead of answering questions, now I have more of them. My dad and I had a second chance to get to know each other, and we blew it. Big time. The little time we had together we argued. I wanted to know what happened? Why he made me go through all that? Why he was here in Winslow using another name?”

Maggie finished folding a stack of holiday napkins and handed them to Diana to fill the carton where she’d stacked boxes of Christmas balls. “What did he say?”

“He never answered anything. He kept saying what he’d done was best for everyone. And that I shouldn’t have come to Winslow.”

“Did Cordelia say anything?”

“She doesn’t talk! Freaked me out when I first met her, but now I’m getting used to it.”

“I mean, how did she react when you arrived?”

“Okay, I guess. I was curious about her, but Dad didn’t tell me much about her. He’d never told me I had a cousin to begin with. He always said we didn’t have any family; it was just us. I thought I was the only one in the family alive. He could sign to her, like you can, though, so I figured he’d known her a long time. It’s all so new, and so strange. He was a different person here. He even looked different. But he was still my dad.”

Diana paused.

“It’s all happened so fast. I drove across the country, feeling free and independent, maybe for the first time in my life. Then suddenly to see Dad again and know he was still alive, but somehow had turned into someone else, someone I didn’t know, and I had a relative, but I couldn’t ask her all the questions I had, and now, zap! Dad’s gone again. And here I am, cleaning out the closet of someone I don’t even know, and talking to you about it all.” She looked at Maggie. “I feel as though I’m in a movie or something. As though maybe the last week never happened, and I just arrived from Colorado. Maybe Dad was never here. Maybe I imagined it all.”

“That would make it a lot easier to understand, for sure,” Maggie agreed.

“I don’t know what I should do, now,” said Diana. “Dad didn’t want me to tell anyone I was his daughter, but when he disappeared I figured it wouldn’t make any difference. Now I’m wondering. Do you think maybe it does? People here knew him as Dan Jeffrey. Maybe that’s who he should be.”