All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

“Same, Quinn.”

He kisses my wrist, and then he goes back to his paper, and I nibble on my breakfast, sip my coffee, and scroll through Instagram. It’s the only social media app that I have, mostly because I enjoy the photos my friends and family post of their loved ones and vacations. It’s not typically politically driven, and I like that too.

I also follow some of my favorite artists on the ’gram, although I haven’t posted my own artwork there.

Once I’ve caught up online and finished my coffee, I get out of bed and get ready to spend another long day at the office.

No, I’m not built for this much deskwork. I’ll be so glad when the case is over.

“I think you’re going to want to see this,” Quinn says much later at the office. We’ve been here for hours and haven’t found a damn thing.

“Please tell me it’s the fourth receipt.”

“No, sorry, but it’s pretty incredible.”

He passes me an old, yellow letter in an envelope.

November 14, 1910

My dearest Muriel,

I can’t believe that today is our wedding day. After waiting for months, it’s finally here. It’s like a dream, my sweetheart, that very soon you’ll be my wife.

You are the object of my desire, loving you is the only reason that I exist in this world. I will spend the rest of my life searching for what brings a smile to your lips, for you are more precious than I can tell you.

Life is fleeting, of this I am sure, especially since losing my papa this year, and I’m grateful that I get to spend the rest of my days with you by my side. I’m proud to stand as your husband, your friend, your lover. From now until my last breath, I do.

Yours always,

Lawrence

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and read through it again.

“It seems Great-Grandpa Lawrence was a romantic,” I say as I sniff and Quinn passes me another handkerchief. “Where do you pull these out of? Thin air?”

“My father taught me that a man should always keep a handkerchief on him.”

“Well, he raised you right.”

I dab at my eyes and fold the letter back into its envelope. “I’ll have to take this with us to my parents’ house so they can read it.”

“I’m sure they’d like that,” he says before kissing my forehead and diving back into his box.

This project has been stressful, time-consuming, and tedious. But I’ve found so many wonderful family treasures that otherwise might have been lost forever.

“You know what’s really sad?”

“What’s that?”

“From what I’ve been told, Muriel died giving birth to their second child, about six years after they were married.”

“So not long after he needed the loan from Reginald.”

I nod. “Man, poor Lawrence had a rough few years.”

“Did he remarry?”

“I found a marriage certificate a few days ago for Lawrence and a woman named Rose. So, I’m assuming yes.” I reach for the folder and find the certificate. “He married her in 1920. She was twenty-three.”

“How old was he?”

“Thirty-five.”

“I wonder if they had more children?”

“I don’t know. I realize that I know way too little about my family any older than my grandparents’ age.”

“Well, it makes sense. They’ve all been dead since before you were born, so it’s not like you could ask questions.”

“True. And I never really thought about it much until I started this.” I check my watch, surprised by the time. “I guess we should wrap it up for the day and head over to my parents’ house.”

“Do you get together for dinners often?”

“About once a month. It’s a way for my mom to check in with us.”

“Am I about to get drilled?”

“Oh yeah. Put your attorney hat on, Counselor.”

“It’s always on, sweetheart.”

“Here, Lou, you wash and peel the potatoes,” Mom says as she pulls a bag of potatoes out of her pantry.

“Why do I have to wash them if I’m going to peel them?” Louise asks.

“Because I said so,” Mom replies, but she softens the retort with a kiss to Lou’s cheek. “Now that the boys are out in the garage, and out of listening range, tell me about Quinn, Sienna.”

“He’s an attorney,” I reply, concentrating on chopping carrots.

“Yes, that I know,” Mom says dryly. “I want to know all the other things. And let me just say right now, that man is handsome. I didn’t really get a good look at him at the will reading because we were all surprised and distraught, but now that I have, well, he’s one good-looking man.”

“Mom.”

“If I was thirty years younger, I might give you a run for your money.”

“Mom!” Louise and I exclaim at the same time.

“What? I’m sixty-five, not blind.”

“Thirty years ago, you were married to Dad,” I remind her, but she just waves me off.

“What does he do for fun?”

“All the adrenaline junkie things he can find. Race car driving, hiking, zip-lining, you name it.”