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It was past her usual suppertiotten to eat His impression was confirmed when they reached the kitchen

On the table where her dinner ht have been, four round boxes sat instead Glossy boxes, he noted, each in a different shade of yellow

"Hatboxes?" Nick pro the war I haven’t read them since his return I didn’t need to I had him And," Clara said, "I knew every one by heart"

"I’ll bet you still do"

"I don’t know Getting theotten"

"The attic? Clara--"

"I’s a certain dear friend of ours added to all our walls and staircasesup and down a breeze" Clara s Charles’s stroke, hadyear of his life with the woman he loved in the farmhouse he’d always known "Elizabeth painted these boxes forshades of yelloere background On each lid was an apple tree One for every season The style was priirl who couldn’t draw any better than she could sing

The boxes weren’t works of art But they orks of love And passion, Nick thought An exuberant affection for the trees, be they barren for winter, blosso, bountiful with summer fruit or brilliant with the leaves of autumn

Elizabeth’s wintertiled frohts--like the ones that had illuirl

"When did she paint these?"

"The first year she spent the entire suht, and we had such fun On rainy days, we poked around in the attic, trying on old clothes, looking at old photographs, playing with theset Charles inherited from his father Charles’s letters didn’t pique her interest But she could tell how ihter homes than the white hatboxes I’d stored them in They definitely did, I told her, and asked if she’d be willing to decorate theest what she should draw? The seasons of the orchard?"

"IElizabeth, she shared her every thought The boxes had to be yellow, she said, because I’d painted the house yelloelcoo with the sareed--to pick four brighter shades You reht and shiny"

"I do," Nick said softly "And the apple trees? Why did she choose to paint them?"

"Because she loves thes they are--as friends" Clara touched an apple blossotime tree "When she was finished, Charles lacquered each box inside and out, sealing the cardboard and, or so we hoped, preserving her vivid paintings But they’ve faded, haven’t they?"

Not at all, Nick thought He felt quite sure they were as bright as the day eight-year-old Elizabeth had dabbed her final drop of paint But Clara couldn’t see it It was the worry he would find a way to address Beginning toht, he broached the worry that was foremost on Clara’s ht I don’t expect to hear from her, Nick Not on that topic She’s not mad at me because of what I said about Matthew Sad, hed "If anyone owes anyone a follow-up phone call, it’s me who should call her"

"But you haven’t"

"It wouldn’t be fair unless I was calling to tell her I’d decidedand he was perfect for her after all"

"You haven’t decided that"

"Not even close The more I think about it, the more convinced I become It’s better just to let so for a visit at the end of the ht, but I’ to holdtoto talk her out of it I probably shouldn’t have said anything"

"That’s not your style, Clara, not when the happiness of your family’s involved Especially Elizabeth"

"But I’ve made her unhappy I wish you’d come to the party at the Orchard Inn"

"I was behind on the remodel for Pete and Celia"

"Ha!"

"Ha?"

"You were afraid I’d have a glass of cha about Elizabeth’s Christmastime adventure and say this is the boy who saved her This is Elizabeth’s hero"

Clara had o There was more fondness now

"I was behind on the re "I’ me as that boy I just don’t want you to"

"I know, Nick And I won’t I do wish you’d been at the party, though"

"I don’t know Elizabeth, Clara There’s no way I would’ve been able to tell if she and Mattheere right for each other"

"You’d have been able to tell You’d have been able to see…" Clara sighed again

"See what?"

"That Matthew’s not in love with hter There," she continued without a pause "I’ve said what I could never say to Elizabeth But it’s what I believe, Nick And it scares me for her"