By the time I wrangled the girls we met in the hallway and pulled down the rickety ladder to the attic. We never went up there anymore. When we were kids we'd hide up there and tell scary ghost stories but as we got older we put childish things aside. Besides, Beth had dust allergies.

I was the first to pop my head up in the attic. I screamed, "They're gone!"

Meg pushed me up and we went through the small square opening. "Whaddya mean they're gone?"

The other girls followed.

Amy shrieked as she pushed her way through. "Our stuff it's all gone!" Beth sneezed upon ascending into the attic.

Dad heard the  ruckus in the attic and followed after us girls. He popped his head through the opening. Dust fell onto his thinning salt and pepper hair. Clueless he asked, "Looks pretty good huh? I stayed up all night cleaning. Sometimes my insomnia's good for something."

Deadpan, I asked, "Dad what did you do?"

Dad grunted as he climbed the rest of the way into the attic. "I did what you girls didn't want to."

Amy threw her arms in the air and exclaimed, "Where's my Barbie's Malibu Beach House?"

Dad made an ill-timed joke, "In Malibu I guess."

Amy didn't laugh. None of us did.

Quietly Beth corrected, "It was my Barbie Malibu beach house."

Meg protested. "Dad, how could you? This attic contained all of our childhood memories!"

Amy shrieked again. "Where are my Little Miss pageant trophies?"

Clueless dad asked, "You're what?"

In a huff Amy explained, "Dad when I was 3 mom entered me into the Little Miss Pageant. I came in first in 3 categories, pretty, perky and--

I finished her sentence. I couldn't help myself, "PESTY?"

Amy's blue eyes grew deeper and wider. Clearly I'd wounded her. "Jo?" Her lip quivered and everything.

"I'm sorry Amy. I was only teasing. But seriously dad. What the heckl! Where is everything?"

Dad became defensive. "I've asked you girls if you wanted any of the junk up here for YEARS!" He threw up his hands. "The minute I throw it away you all have a hissy fit."

All of us complained, "YOU THREW IT AWAY?"

Now dad had an inkling of guilt. "Well yeah... There's no room for it in the cabin."

Amy scooted down the ladder sobbing. Beth went after her. Meg and I looked at one another in shock. I broke the silence. "You threw away Mom's journals, dad?"

"Oh no..." He chuckled. "Your mom would kill me if I did that. They're in a red and green Christmas wrapping tote under our bed. If you girls want them you can have them."

Later that evening Meg, Beth, Amy and I sat on the floor in my room. I suggested, "There's 28 journals. Let's split them up and share our findings."

Amy clicked her tongue. "Share our findings? Like what? Mom's recipe for banana pudding or when Beth said her first word..."

Dumbfounded, I looked at our youngest sister. "Amy, you really can't be that clueless. Mom had levels. Sure on the outside she seemed like Betty Crocker but..."

Meg admitted a small truth. "I couldn't wait until I turned 16. Mom said I could date then. Before I could even mention the name of a boy I had a crush on, mom looked me straight in the eye and said, "Don't date Brad." I'd never mentioned Brad. Mom had no idea who he was. Recently Brad went to jail for beating up his pregnant girlfriend."

Amy objected, "Surely mom must have heard something about him... From the other mothers or something?"

"Nope," Meg shook her head. "It was like she was in a trance or something. I got such an eerie feeling I never even talked to Brad again."

Beth shivered.  We all did.

Amy remembered something. "I twisted my ankle right before regionals last year. The doctor said to stay off my foot and not to cheerlead for the rest of the semester. After he left the room Mom grabbed my swollen bruised ankle and then she spoke in Portuguese or something. Immediately the pain and swelling went away. When the doctor came back he handed mom the prescription. She looked him straight in the eye and said, 'She won't be needing that.'  I didn't. We went on to win the Regionals. I won Most Cheeriest!"

Beth seemed skeptical. "So what, are you saying, mom was psychic or something?"

I scoffed, "Hardly. You know how much mom hated all that stuff. She didn't even allow us to read the Horror Scopes (as she called them) in the newspaper."

Amy continued, "I went to a sleepover and they pulled out a Ouija Board. I didn't know what to do. The game gave me the creeps but I didn't want to look like a total dork. Just as I was about to play, my cell phone chimed. Mom had typed, 'I'M OUT FRONT. GET IN THE CAR.'"

At this point all four of us gasped.

"Mom was already at Bailey's house. She knew even before Bailey pulled the game off the shelf."

Hesitantly Beth added, "You know how I hate wearing shoes in the house right? Well, remember the time I was helping mom canning string beans? We were listening to Rockin' Oldies on the radio when her demeanor changed suddenly. She turned off the radio and said, 'Beth get shoes on your feet this instant.' As I opened my mouth to protest I dropped the tray of mason jars and a shard of glass went right through my foot. I still have a purple scar to this day"

Meg asked, "So maybe you were startled because mom got mad at you?"

Beth replied, "No Meg, she was as calm as ever. She.just.knew."

I protested, "Okay so what if Mom knew stuff. What's this got to do with any of us?"

Meg surmised, "Maybe there are more predictions in her journals. Things we should know about or look out for."

I rolled my eyes in a way that only a March daughter can. "You're all being super dramatic. We lost our mom. We miss her. Playing Nancy Drew is not gonna help."

Amy rubbed her hands together. "But it couldn't hurt!"

Before we sisters went our separate ways, we shared what our individual notes from Mom said. Oddly enough each note ended exactly the same way. Read the books and stick together.

Beth thought mom meant the books of the bible. Amy vehemently disagreed saying, "If Mom meant the books of the bible she would have said THE BIBLE. Besides, we already know that. She's drummed that into us since we were little."  

All four of us ended up agreeing on one thing. "The books" were probably mom's journals. We split the 28 journals between us. Each sister took 7 books.  We weren't sure what we were looking for but even in death Mom became the glue that held us four sisters together.