| Romance Fiction posted September 24, 2025 | Chapters: |
...24 25 -26- 27... 
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Rachel Makes A Discovery
A chapter in the book Yesterday's Dreams
The Untold Story Chap 4
by Begin Again
The bell over Whitman's door gave one short chime as Rachel stepped in. The pharmacy smelled of cologne, coffee, and floor cleaner. A few customers waited by the counter with prescriptions. The photo desk sat empty except for a small sign: Film Processing — Ask Noah.
The rack of reading glasses was new; the card carousel and the photo counter weren't. When she was ten, her mother had stood at that counter circling something on a slip of paper and tapping a quarter against the glass while Rachel read candy labels to stall another fight in the car. She remembered as if it were yesterday.
Noah appeared from the stockroom with a carton of printer paper and a pencil behind his ear. He had the same look he'd had in high school — quick smile, blue eyes, and brown wavy hair. He stopped short when he saw her.
"Hey, stranger," he said. "Aren't you a surprise? It's been a long time."
"How've you been?" she asked.
"Oh, same old, same old — until you walked in. My day's already looking brighter."
She felt heat rise in her cheeks. "You never change."
He lifted the counter flap and came around for a quick hug. "Not when it comes to you. Some things don't." His voice softened. "I was sorry to hear about your mom."
"Me, too. I wish things had been different, but it is what it is." Rachel glanced around the pharmacy, trying to compose herself. Finally, she turned back to Noah, taking the canister from her pocket. "I found an old roll of film." She set the black tube on the counter.
He picked it up and turned it in his hand. "Thirty-five millimeter. Looks like it's been around a while." He glanced up. "Do you want the usual — develop and print?"
"Please."
*****
Outside, a bucket truck idled at the curb. Two utility workers were halfway up the pole. One waved a gloved hand to someone down down the block.
Noah noticed. "Heads up — the power company's working outside and might be cutting juice for a bit. If they flip it, my machines nap for a while. Let me get this into the dark bag before that happens."
She took a breath. "Thanks, Noah. I'll wait."
He grinned and nodded toward a small table by the front window. "There's coffee. Help yourself." He slipped through the swinging door with the roll in his hand.
She poured half a cup and took the chair that faced the street. The morning was gray and ordinary — dog walkers, a school bus, someone sweeping on the far side of Ashland. Her phone buzzed once with a text from Mark — Lawyers are calling at ten. She let it go dark.
Five minutes later, the bell above the door chimed again. Denise Karr slipped in with a scuffed bakery box, cheeks pink from the air. "Morning, Lizzie." She handed a box to the girl behind the counter. "Tell Noah that these are for his dad." She spotted Rachel and smiled. "Rachel — hello. Nice to see you.
"You too, Mrs. Karr."
"I've been trying your mother's cinnamon roll recipe," Denise said. "Not as good as hers, but I thought Mr. Whitman might like a box."
"That's kind of you. I bet he'll love them."
Denise lowered her voice. "If you need anything, I'm only a few houses away. I can sit with you a while if you want."
"I'm okay, thank you."
Denise nodded. She glanced around the room and then lowered her voice. "Has your mom's friend been by?"
"Mom's friend?"
"Your mom used to walk on Fridays," she said. "I saw her sometimes when I cut through by the cemetery. She wasn't alone."
Rachel kept her face steady. "I didn't know that. Who was it?"
"William?" Denise said, then winced. "Or maybe she said Tom. I might be wrong. Older man. Nice. Tipped his blue cap when I saw him. They just walked and talked. Nobody thought it was scandalous except your brother, of course."
"Scandalous? Did my brother ask you not to tell me that?" Rachel asked.
Denise looked uncomfortable. "He said the women in town were always telling stories, and he didn't want me starting anything about his mother. I'm not starting anything. I'm just remembering what I saw. I thought he might have come by since I didn't see him at the funeral."
"What else —" Rachel started to ask, but Denise suddenly became upset.
"Oh, dear, I suppose I shouldn't have said anything. I did promise, but —" She shrugged and left with a quick wave.
Rachel watched the street for a while longer. Who was this William or Tom? And why wouldn't Mark want her to know? Before she could draw any conclusions, Noah returned with a small paper envelope.
"First few prints are done. I'll finish the rest after the power folks are gone."
Rachel slid one photo free — Julia at the lake, head tipped back, laughing. The bird charm at her throat caught the sun. Rachel's breath snagged and then eased.
Noah peered over her shoulder. "That's your mom, isn't it? She was quite a bit younger there, but I can still tell it was her. Quite the looker."
Rachel nodded, trying to control the tears threatening to wash down her cheeks. "You're right. She looks so young — and happy."
"Kind of tough to see her and remember, huh? It's okay to be upset." He squeezed her shoulders and then quickly added, "If you want adjustments, say the word. And if you find more rolls, bring them. I'll take care of you."
"I'll look," she said, and thanked him, eager to be alone.
Outside, the air was crisp. Rachel stopped for a moment, breathing in and out, her mind swirling around the woman in the picture — she looked like her mom — except she was laughing. Rachel remembered seeing the necklace once long ago when playing in her mother's jewelry box.
She waited to cross the street until the approaching pickup passed. He slowed at the corner and glanced at her, tipped his blue cap, and then rolled away.
Rachel was in the middle of the street when the driver's blue cap registered with her. Hadn't Denise said he wore a blue cap? It had to be him. She looked down the street, but it was gone.
Retracing her steps, she returned to the pharmacy and walked directly to the counter in the back. Noah was helping a customer, but he finished and hurried over to her. "Back so soon? Did you need something else?"
"Noah, I was just wondering, do you know any of my mom's friends?" she asked, as if it had just occurred to her. "A William or a Tom? Mrs. Karr said my mother walked with someone through the cemetery on Fridays."
"William?" Noah frowned. "We've got a Bill Lane who comes in on Fridays. Army vet. He orders double prints for the VFW board." He shrugged. "Could be he used to walk there, but I don't really know."
"Bill Lane," she repeated. Do you think someone might be able to tell me at the VFW Hall?
He lifted a shoulder. "Small town. Half the guys know each other from the hall. Why?"
"Just curious." She tried to sound casual and felt like she failed. "I never knew Mom had any male friends. Daddy would have freaked if he were still alive."
"Forgive me, but he didn't want any guys hanging around his daughter either, if I remember right."
Rachel nodded as she stammered, "I'm afraid — you're right." Rachel turned away, embarrassed that the past still had such a profound impact on her.
Sensing that his remark had caused her discomfort, he quickly tried to change the conversation. "I bet those pictures are done. Give me a sec." He spun on his heels and disappeared through the curtain.
A few minutes later, Noah returned with a small stack of prints in a paper envelope. "Here you go. I did a second set in case you want to share. If you want enlargements, I can do those this afternoon."
Rachel slid one photo free and held it by the edges — Julia at the lake, laughing in a blue swimsuit. A man facing away from the camera. Rachel's own breath caught as she stared at her mother — she'd never seen this side of her.
Noah pretended to check the next print and gave her a minute.
"Can you print the porch ones a little brighter?" she asked. "I think there's someone in the doorway."
"I'll tweak exposure and contrast. It might bring out more detail." He hesitated. "You okay?"
"I will be." She put the photos back in the envelope. "Thanks, Noah."
He nodded. "There are a few frames left on this. Old cameras sometimes never hit thirty-six. If you find more rolls, bring them. I'll take care of you."
"I'll look," she said.
Outside, the air was crisp. Rachel kept the envelope close under her arm and cut across to the side street that would take her back to the house.
Mark's car sat crooked in the drive with the trunk up. He was hauling boxes from the garage. Rachel slipped the photo envelope into her tote and kept her face even.
"Where'd you go?" he asked.
"Needed a few things from the pharmacy, and I grabbed some more labels," she said, and held up a pack from Whitman's she'd grabbed at the register. It wasn't a total lie.
"Good," he said. "Lawyers had to cancel. So that gives us more time to go through things."
Next door, Mrs. Lawson's storm door squeaked as she stepped onto her porch with a covered dish. "Rachel!"
Rachel waved and called, "Hi, Mrs. Lawson."
Mark turned to walk away, but not before muttering, "Make it quick. We don't have all day to gossip with that old woman."
Rachel ignored him and met her at the hedge. "It's good to see you."
"I'm so sorry about your mother." She handed her the dish. "Chicken and noodles."
"Thank you. That's kind of you." Rachel shifted the weight to one arm. "I've only got a minute, but I was hoping you might help me out."
"Anything dear. What is it?"
"I ran into Denise Karr at the pharmacy. She asked if Mom's friend had been by. Someone she walked with. Would you know anything about him?"
Mrs. Lawson glanced nervously toward the driveway, then back to Rachel. "I saw them sometimes. Near Hillcrest. Fridays, mostly."
"Do you know his name?"
"Bill. An older gentleman. Blue cap. Polite. He'd tip his hat. I think I recall your mom saying that he was a friend of someone else she once knew."
"Was there anything else?"
"Not that I remember. You know how it is when you get old, you forget things." She stared at Mark's car for a moment. "Wait!" She shook her finger. "I'm not sure, but I think he came in a red pickup truck once. He was taking her to an appointment."
"Thanks for telling me and thanks for the casserole, Mrs. Lawson. You shouldn't have bothered."
"It's no bother, dear. But if you wouldn't mind, please don't tell Mark what I told you. I couldn't bear another row with him."
"Don't worry. I won't mention it."
"And Rachel, I think your mother might have given him your phone number in case of an emergency. I recall her mentioning it or at least, I think I do."
"Thank you, Mrs. Lawson. That's good to know." Rachel headed for the house, determined that starting tomorrow, she'd find the man with the blue cap.
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