"I think so. I mean, I didn't see what was in there, but they warned me that it was fragile and made me swear not to move it."
The more I explained, the more confused Luna looked. "What do you mean it went missing?"
"It was stolen, just last night, in fact."
"By who?"
"Probably my aunt and uncle." I gave her a brief overview of the situation with my relatives, including the fact that I had an alarm system and everything, but nothing seemed to stop them.
Again, I glanced at the empty counter-top. "I should've insisted on hiding it or something."
Now Luna was looking at the counter-top, too. She asked, "How bigwasthis safe?"
I gave it some thought. "About the size of a microwave, or maybe a little smaller."
She shook her head. "I don't think that's big enough." She gave a shaky laugh. "Of course, knowing my brothers, they might've crammed it in there." She hesitated. "Or chopped it into a million pieces."
I couldn’t tell if she was joking, but it was pretty obvious that she was disappointed, and rightfully so. I felt compelled to say it again. "I'm really sorry."
She tried to smile. "Don't be. It's notyourfault. If anything, it's mine."
"Yours?" I said. "How?"
"Because I should've picked it up myself."
I still didn't what the heirloom was, and it seemed beyond rude to ask, especially since it was partly my fault that it was gone.
I tried to think. "Maybe if I call my aunt and uncle and explain that it wasn't mine…" I bit my lip and let the words trail off. "Of course, I doubt they'll admit they took it. They never do."
As if shaking off the gloom, Luna said, "Well, for all we know, it wasn't even in there."
I gave her a hopeful look. "You think so?"
"Well, wearetalking about my brothers," she said. "For all we know, the safe contained old beer cans or something."
It was a cheery thought, but it was pretty obvious that she didn't believe it any more than I did.
Still, in the interest of not adding to her disappointment, I offered her a tour of the house while we waited. When I'd seen her in Detroit, I'd promised her one if she was ever in the neighborhood.
I could see why she was interested. The place had a history, even before my parents had bought it. Nearly a century ago, a Chicago bootlegger had built the house to serve as his summer residence during the height of prohibition.
As I led Luna from room to room, I tried to envision the house through the eyes of a stranger. It reallywasamazing, with its high ceilings and classic woodwork. But the size – not to mention the maintenance – was a huge problem, especially for me, an unemployed college dropout.
Probably, I'd have to sell the house eventually, but for now, I was determined to enjoy it. It was, after all, my childhood home.
When the tour was over, we returned to the kitchen, where Luna surprised me by saying, "I have a confession."
"You do?"
She nodded. "I had another reason for stopping by."
"Really? What?"
She leaned forward. "I have a secret, and I want you to blab it."