Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt, flush. I am still doing the buried treasure story.

Check out the other tales here. Leave a comment, too, it you’re so inclined.

After we ordered—a Reuben for me and a bowl of chili with oyster crackers for Levi—I asked, “What did your research uncover?”

“During World War Two a woman lived in the house with the family of her husband while he was in the RAF…”

“Wait. His family lived here and he was British?”

“No. No.” Levi shook his head. “When the war started in 1939, some of our young men wanted to get involved and actually went over to enlist before the United States got pulled into things. A good number of the men here served.”

“I guess I knew that from history class, but didn’t remember it. So who was this guy?” I paused. “Or the wife? Since it could be her jewelry we’re talking about.”

“I’m still trying to get all the details, but it looks like they married pretty close to when he shipped out. I haven’t found the actual marriage license record yet, but I found a census where she was living in the house. I also found the record of the ship he sailed on to England. I should be able to pin down the date of their marriage this afternoon.”

“This is so exciting. I’d love to find out why she buried the jewelry and if she left anyone behind who would appreciate the return of the items.”

“We won’t know if any or all of the items belonged to her until we can pin down any survivors that know the facts.”

“I wonder if it’s possible that some items belonged to someone else. Surely only one woman was involved in burying gold, silver, and gems under a tree.”

“It is hard to fathom anyone burying their treasured jewelry, much less two women doing the same thing and at the same tree. You’re right about that.”

The waitress set our food in front of us, leaned her hip against the side of the table closest to Levi and smiled at him. “Anything else for you, sir?”

A flush crept up his neck before he nodded at me and said, “Not for me but perhaps my companion would like something.”

The waitress huffed as if offended and turned to me. “Anything?”

Stunned at the attitude she displayed, I shook my head. I wanted to say something about her rudeness, but let it go. I’d let my tip speak for me.

As soon as she was gone, Levi said, “I hate it when that happens.”

“I bet it happens a lot. It’s your irresistible charm.” I winked. “And the dimples don’t hurt either. We mere mortals don’t get flirted with like you do. Alas.”