In the middle of the week, Sally wearily pushed open the front door of her home after enduring a bustling and tiring morning shift at the store. She had entrusted the rest of the day's responsibilities to Ted, who would watch over the store until closing time. Today had been an exceptionally busy day with numerous customers demanding bulk orders of vegetables, leaving Sally to carry heavy loads from the storeroom all by herself. As she stepped into the cozy home, the thought of a warm cup of tea and a short afternoon nap on the sun-basked couch by the window brought a glimmer of relief to her tired body.

With a delightful stretch of her back, Sally imagined the sweet comfort of relaxation. As she passed by the lounge room on her way to make herself some tea, her ears caught the soft, familiar sound of turning book pages. Intrigued by the unexpected noise, she felt compelled to investigate, pondering whether Becky might still be at home—a rarity since her return to Sommerfield, given her restless nature.

To her surprise, there sat Becky, sprawled like a contented cat on the couch, still clad in her pajamas with her hair messy as if she had just woken. A mug and teapot sitting on the coffee table beside her.

"Becky!" Sally exclaimed with surprise. "I thought you'd be out and about today. How long have you been here?"

Becky lazily turned her gaze toward her mother, her eyes relaxed with the joy of leisure. "Hey, Mom," she greeted. "I've been here since I woke up." She replied with a half yawn.

"Looks like you're having a good time. I was actually thinking of making some tea and having a nap on the couch myself. It seems like someone beat me to it." Sally chuckled, in awe of Becky's ability to find joy in simple pleasures.

Sally settled into the large armchair next to the couch, feeling a sense of relief as her tired legs finally caught some rest. "Did you have lunch yet?" she asked.

"Yep, I had a piece of bread," Becky replied, her eyes never leaving the captivating words on the pages before her. She pointed to a plate of crumbs next to the teapot.

Sally couldn't help but smile, feeling a mixture of amusement and maternal concern.

"A single piece of bread is not a proper lunch, young lady," she playfully chided.

Becky briefly tore her eyes away from the book and looked at her mom with an excited gaze. "I got so engrossed in this book that I forgot about everything." she admitted. "It's just so good, mom, I can't put it down."

Intrigued by her daughter's fascination with the book, Sally leaned in closer to get a better look at the cover. Becky eagerly showed her mom the front of the book, as Sally read out the title.

"Echoes from the Enchanted Glade." Sally said slowly. "What's the book about?" Sally asked, her interest evident.

"It's about regional folklore," she replied. "I picked it up from this captivating little bookshop on the same day that Emily came over. It's just something silly about folklore and imaginary creatures that I like to read about."

"It's not silly at all," Sally reassured her with a warm smile. "In fact, I also happen to have an interest in folklore tales and local mysteries."

Becky looked at her mom with a hint of surprise.

"Really?" she asked, genuinely taken aback. "I always thought you loved romance novels and nothing else."

Sally chuckled, amused by her daughter's perception.

"That's because your grandma, my mother, was an avid reader of romance," she explained. "I must admit, she did pass on her love of romance to me."

Becky nodded thoughtfully, absorbing this new insight into her mother's interests.

"Oh yeah, I remember the reading room that grandpa had preserved at their house. The shelves were filled with nothing but romance novels. "

Sally's smile widened, her eyes lighting up with fond memories.

"Your grandma must have read each book in that large collection of hers many times over," she said. "I remember going to book fairs and flea markets with her when I was a little girl. She'd buy a bunch of second-hand romance novels at a discount. She had this brown woven tote bag that she would use to carry her spoils of the day. She would also pick up anything that I wanted, which was mainly just coloring books and picture books at that time."

Becky smiled, seeing the joy in her mother's face as she spoke about her cherished memories. It was heartwarming to see her mom immersed in nostalgia and happy remembrance of her grandmother who she had never met.

A flicker of sadness danced across Sally's face as she recounted the difficult task of cleaning up her mother's study a long time after her mother's passing.

"It was really hard," she admitted, "I couldn't keep all the books she had collected. But I'm glad I kept a few of her favorites to remember her by." Sally pointed towards the small wooden bookshelf against the wall, where she preserved her mother's cherished books.

Becky smiled with surprise, touched to know that a piece of her grandmother had survived through these beloved stories.

"It was tough choosing just a few favorites to keep," Sally continued, "I spent a whole week browsing through almost every single book in her collection to find the ones that I knew she'd love."

Sally leaned in, whispering playfully to Becky, "And let me tell you a secret—your grandma had a few particularly risqué novels in her collection. They looked very well-worn from many rereads."

Sally and Becky both giggled, sharing a moment of humorous understanding.

"Well, what I'm reading may be more tame," she said, "but it's just as gripping. The book is filled with imaginative situations inspired by the mundane, and the characters are incredibly charismatic and endearing to me. It reminds me of the first folklore novel I read, 'The Reefmaker,' which sparked my love for the genre."

The reference to 'The Reefmaker' triggered a buried memory in Sally's mind. A shiver cascaded down her spine as she meticulously scanned her thoughts to ensure she wasn't mistaken. Intrigued by the book that had sparked Becky's interest, she felt a compelling urge to delve deeper into the subject.

"Tell me about 'The Reefmaker.' What's the story about? Who are the characters? What happens in the end?" Sally asked.

Becky hesitated at her mother's enthusiastic inquiry, finding her probing questions overly eager.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Are you absolutely sure you want all the specifics? It's actually a wonderful story that I think you should discover on your own someday. It's not very long, but it's a gem. I believe you'd thoroughly enjoy it."

"Go on, I don't mind." Sally confirmed.

Becky sat up from her slouch, using an old cork coaster as a makeshift bookmark to keep her place in the book.

"Okay, so the story is set in a small Minnesota town, much like Sommerfield," she began, "The main character is a girl who receives a seashell as a gift for her eighth birthday. Instead of hearing the sound of the ocean when she puts her ear against it, she hears a voice. This voice leads her to a place in the woods by a small creek, where she discovers a magnificent creature with a particular power that can..."

Becky paused dramatically, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips as she struggled to contain her excitement.

Sally leaned forward, captivated by the story. "What power is it?" she asked eagerly.

Becky couldn't hold back her laughter.

"I can't tell you!" she replied, "You'll have to read it for yourself to find out."

Sally tilted her head in thought, then asked with a playful grin.

"Would it happen to be the power to create a tropical reef right in the middle of a lake in rural Minnesota?"

Becky's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"How did you know?" she exclaimed.

With a hint of amusement, Sally replied.

"The book's title is 'The Reefmaker.' It's literally in the title."

Becky couldn't help but laugh at her own oversight, feeling a shared sense of joy and lightness in the moment.

"I guess I should have guessed that," Becky admitted, smiling with embarrassment.

"You know Becky, apart from that little surprise about the Reefmaker's power, I like how the main character made the right choice in the end of the story." Sally said contemplatively.

Becky beamed, thrilled that her mom shared her sentiments.

"And wasn't it amazing how she made so many good friends along the way?" Becky added with excitement. "The journey was filled with such beautiful connections, and the Reefmaker's impact on the lives of those friends was heartwarming."

Sally nodded thoughtfully, taking in Becky's perspective on the emotional journey of the book.

"I am curious about something though. Did you find the ending too sad?" Sally asked.

Becky's face grew solemn as she shared her thoughts.

"I cried my eyes out the first time I read it. But as I grew older, I realized that the Reefmaker's sacrifice had a purpose. Its intention was always to make a difference in the lives of others, even at the cost of its own life."

Sally placed a comforting hand around Becky's shoulder, offering reassurance and understanding.

"Sometimes, bittersweet endings can leave a profound impact on us," she said gently.

Becky furrowed her brow with curiosity.

"Wait, how do you know about the ending? Actually, how do you know so much about the story?" she asked, puzzled. "Mom, have you read 'The Reefmaker' too?"

Sally's expression turned serious as she approached the unusual topic.

"Becky, you have to believe when I say this. I am the author of 'The Reefmaker'."

Becky was taken aback, struck by the unexpected discovery about her mother. In that instance, she felt a profound connection, as if their destinies were intricately woven together by some unearthly force. It was like finding a missing piece of her life's puzzle, sending a chill through her body.

"I do believe you and it just makes so much sense. The story, the life lessons and the voice of the narrator. It was you all along, it's why I felt so deeply in touch with the story." Becky's eyes watered, her hand reaching out touching her mother's. "Tell me mom, when did you write it?" Becky asked, her voice filled with intrigue.

Sally thought back, the memories resurfacing.

"It must have been towards the end of high school," she recalled. "It was part of an assignment for English class—we had to complete a major work by the end of the year. After discussion with my English teacher, she had suggested that I try my hand at writing a novel. I had never done anything like it, but my teacher was convinced I could do it."

Curiosity sparked in Sally's eyes, and she asked, "So that's my tale, how about you? How did you come across the story?"

Becky smiled as she recounted her childhood discovery.

"I found it in the library when I was around twelve years old," she said. "It was uncataloged, but the book had a magnetism that called out to me."

Sally couldn't help but smile with a hint of surprise.

"Really? Well that's a bit eerie in its coincidence." she mused, "I wonder how my story ended up in the library? I only ever wrote one copy that I handed in to my teacher for marking."

"Maybe your teacher thought it was a really good story and wanted to share it with the world," Becky suggested.

Sally considered the possibility, intrigued by the idea.

"Maybe. It's so weird that I don't remember anything about it. Though I must admit that around that time I was distracted with many things." Sally said, "Say Becky, do you still have the book with you?" She asked hopefully.

Becky's eyes dropped with disappointment.

"Unfortunately not. I returned it to the library."

"Do you think it's still there?" Sally pondered.

Becky's face lit up with a spark of adventure.

"It could be," she exclaimed. "We should go check it out sometime. But mom, why did you never mention it before?" she asked with a curious glint in her eye. "I didn't even know you were a writer."

Sally's modesty shone through as she downplayed her writing skills.

"It's nothing special," she said, trying to temper Becky's excitement. "It's just a high school girl's fever dream."

Becky couldn't hide her disbelief, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"Mom what are you talking about?It was the story that sparked my interest in this genre," she exclaimed. "Beyond that, it's one of the reasons I decided to study in California—to experience the friendships and the imagery of the warm ocean teeming with life, just like in 'The Reefmaker.'"

Sally smiled, holding Becky's hands and squeezing them lovingly.

"You achieved everything on your own," she said tenderly. "The book merely showed you one possibility of what you could achieve."

Curiosity sparked in Becky's eyes, and she asked.

"But what about you, Mom? What did you want to do? How come you didn't pursue writing?"

Sally's expression turned thoughtful.

"Becoming a writer takes a lot more than just writing one story. With my lack of experience, I didn't think I could write anything that anyone would want to read."

Becky shook her head in disagreement.

"That's obviously not true," she protested. "I love 'The Reefmaker.' I would read the sequel without hesitation. In fact, I think you should write a sequel! I have a bunch of ideas that you can use for a sequel." Becky's introspection took hold as she tempered her zealousness. "But I get ahead of myself. I should let the writer herself decide what to write about."

Sally chuckled, warmed by Becky's enthusiastic support.

"It's been so long since I've written anything," she confessed. "I'd probably be terrible at it now."

Becky looked at her mom with hopeful eyes, refusing to give up on the idea.

"I know you can do it," she said confidently, "I feel so excited just thinking about it. But don't worry, Mom, there's no pressure. Just think about it."

Sally considered her daughter's words, a sense of longing stirring within her. Becky's unwavering belief in her ability rekindled a dormant spark inside Sally—a passion she had buried beneath the responsibilities of life.

"I suppose it wouldn't be entirely out of the question," Sally admitted, "After all, I've read a lot of different books and authors through the years, so I have a good handle on what might work for a sequel."

Becky beamed, feeling a rush of pride in her mother's willingness to explore this new path.

"See, I knew you had it in you," she said with a grin. "Take your time, Mom. If you ever feel inspired, just know that I'll be rooting for you."

"Well, writer or not, I need to get something to eat," Sally declared, her stomach giving a little rumble as if in agreement. "Do you want a Berenson style walleye sandwich, Becky? I know you used to love having it whenever you had friends over."

Becky's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Yummy! That would be perfect for a day like today," she said, eager to indulge in the familiar and delicious treat. "I have an idea, Mom. Why don't we wrap up the sandwiches and pack a few drinks for a picnic at the park?"

Sally clapped her hands, thoroughly delighted with the suggestion.

"Sweeties, you are not only pretty but also full of great ideas." she said with a grin. "Go get changed and make yourself look respectable. I'll get the stove fired up, cook the fish, and assemble the sandwiches."

Becky bounced off the couch with newfound energy, giving her mom a quick hug before dashing off to her room to change. As Sally watched her daughter leave the lounge room, thoughts of 'The Reefmaker' lingered in her mind. The revelation that the story she had written had such a profound and positive impact on Becky's life filled her with a sense of pride.

With Becky growing up and already forging her own path in the world, Sally couldn't help but wonder how long she would continue to have an influence in her daughter's life.