Yet when she pushed open the door and saw how much the interior of the house had changed, the first emotion she felt was amazement. Gone were the dark cabinets, peeling linoleum flooring, and mismatched, oversized appliances; the kitchen now featured open shelves, ceramic tiles, and a sleek, energy-efficient fridge and oven.
In the living room and two small bedrooms, the décor was classic coastal chic. Simple, white-washed furniture and splashes of aquamarine and butter-yellow accents enhanced the neutral color palette of the walls and hardwood floors, creating a contemporary, airy feel.
Aunt Lydia and Uncle Albert would’ve loved how much brighter everything is in here, thought Caitlin, recalling that the room used to be so dim on rainy afternoons they’d need to turn on several lamps so they could see to do a jigsaw puzzle or play a board game together. Inevitably, Albert would bellyache about all the electricity they were wasting, and then Lydia would tease, “If you’re that concerned about it, we can light candles instead.”
The memory made Caitlin smile. Neither her aunt and uncle’s playful quibbling, nor the cottage’s minor flaws had ever really bothered her—in fact, their familiarity was kind of comforting. But she had to admit, the carpenter and designer Lydia’s nephews hired had done a fantastic job renovating and redecorating the little house.
What impressed her most was that the screened-in porch adjacent to the living room had been transformed into a four-season sunroom, with casement windows overlooking the cluster of cottages in the backyard, and the large, crimson-tipped maple tree in the front. Light and warmth flooded the narrow room, and Caitlin imagined how comfy it would be to curl up on the thick-cushioned rattan sofa and bask in the autumn sunshine.
But for now, she was aching to stretch out for a proper nap, which meant she’d need to make up a bed. As she headed down the hall to the linen closet, someone knocked on the front door.Are you kidding me? I’ve literally only been here two minutes!She reluctantly went to see who her uninvited visitor was.
“Hi there,” the courier greeted her. “Are you Caitlin Hines?”
“Yes, I am.”So much for keeping my presence here a secret.
But he barely glanced up from his tablet as he handed her a cardboard envelope bearing the estate attorney’s name and return address. “I’ll need a signature, please.”
She scrawled her name with the stylus, thanked him, and then circled back to the sunroom.I wasn’t expecting to receive any more documents from Lydia’s lawyer, she thought, dropping onto the sofa.I wonder why he didn’t just email them to me.
Caitlin unsealed the outer packaging and slid out a sheet of letterhead clipped to a small, lavender envelope. “The attached is for you to receive upon your arrival at the cottage,” read the short, informal memo from the attorney. “It should be self-explanatory, but don’t hesitate to contact me with questions. Enjoy your stay and please be sure to let me know when the remodel is completed.”
What could this be?Caitlin asked herself as she carefully ripped open the sealed flap. Her best guess was that it was a leftover amenity the property management company providedfor all the guests, such as a beach parking pass or a modest gift card to a local restaurant.
But what she found inside was a letter. “Dear Caitlin,” it read in Lydia’s flowery, unmistakable penmanship. “Welcome to your island home—I’m so glad you’re here!”
Caitlin’s eyes immediately smarted and she lowered the paper to her lap, shocked. Hadn’t her arrival in Hope Haven been difficult enough, without receiving a personal, posthumous message from her departed aunt?
She took a deep breath, lifted the letter again and tentatively continued:
It feels strange writing to you in the present, knowing you won’t read this letter until sometime in the future. I hope it doesn’t upset you to hear from me like this, but I imagine you might have questions about why I’ve required you to return to Dune Island to supervise the windmill remodel. Instead of communicating my private intentions through an attorney, I’d like to personally elaborate.
“That was thoughtful of her,” murmured Caitlin, relaxing a little.
This week my doctor told me I’m experiencing mild cognitive impairment and she advised me to put my affairs in order while I’m still “of sound mind.”
Caitlin paused as it sunk in that her aunt had sat down to write this letter over ten years ago, just after she was diagnosed.
Right now, the dementia only affects my short-term memory, but if I live long enough, in time it will affect my long-term memory, too. It saddens me to think that one day, I might forget my loved ones, including you.
A sob abruptly rose in Caitlin’s throat.Even though you eventually did forget me, I’ve never forgottenyou,Aunt Lydia—and I never will,she silently replied.
Swallowing, she continued:
Over the years, we may have drifted apart—which is understandable, considering how far away you live and how busy we’ve both been—but I’ve always treasured the closeness we shared and especially our summers on Dune Island. I never stopped hoping one day you’d get the chance to visit us there again.
I used to love scheming with you about renovating the cottage, especially the windmill loft, so it would be cozier when Albert and I retired and lived in Hope Haven year-round. Remember how you used to plan to visit us there for Thanksgiving and Christmas, as well as in the summertime? I felt so honored that my teenage niece wanted to spend the holidays with her old auntie and uncle… Unfortunately, that’s not how things turned out!
Despite her aunt’s understanding acceptance of the change in their relationship, Caitlin felt a surge of remorse when she read how much Lydia had valued their connection and wished her niece would visit her at Hope Haven again.
As you know, for several years Albert was too ill to do any work on the cottage, then he passed on, and soon I’ll need to move into an assisted living facility. To help offset the cost of my care, I’ll task my nephews with arranging to update the cottage, at my expense, so they’ll be able to rent it out at a competitive price during the summer months.
Between you and me, I anticipate they’ll probably grumble when they find out I’m leaving the cottage to you. If they do, just ignore them.
Caitlin chuckled briefly, in spite of herself. Then, she picked up where she’d left off, reading quickly to the end:
They’re already receiving a big enough inheritance, and Albert and I have always wantedyouto have the property on Dune Island.
While I trust them to make good decisions about the basic renovations to the cottage, converting the windmill loft wasourdream, yours and mine. They knew nothing about it, and if I didn’t expressly prohibit it, they’d probably get rid of the windmill altogether. So that’s why I’d like you to oversee the remodel whenever it suits your schedule.
