She had enough of an inheritance to live for the remainder of her days, assuming she lived frugally. Which was not something she was opposed to. She could buy a small cottage in the countryside and have her own garden. It sounded simple. It sounded perfect. But she felt guilty taking Marigold from her grandmother.
She couldn’t remain under the same roof as her father. It wasn’t working. She was tired of the fighting and it was time she proved to him that she was not the same selfish girl that eloped in the middle of the night.
A knock came at the door.
“Enter,” Enid ordered as she placed the book onto a side table.
The door opened and her mother stepped into the room with a sad look in her eyes. “I just heard the most distressing news from your father.” She paused. “Is it true?”
Enid knew precisely what she was referring to. It was amazing to her that it took her this long to find out. “It is.”
Her mother’s hand flew up to her mouth. “You cannot leave,” she said. “What of Marigold? She is thriving here.”
“I know, but I can’t remain here with Father.”
“Your father can be difficult…” her mother started.
She huffed.
“… but he doesn’t want you to go either.”
Enid lifted her brow. “I somehow doubt that to be true. He has done everything in his power to force me to leave.”
Her mother came to sit down next to her on the settee. “I shouldn’t tell you this but he visits Marigold every day.”
“I was wondering about that.”
“I do believe that Marigold has won over his heart.”
Enid rolled her eyes. “If he even has one.”
Her mother reached for her hand. “Your father is a complicated man, but he does have a good heart. He has just forgotten how to use it,” she said. “And he is making an effort, at least with me.”
“I am glad that things between you have improved.”
A smile came to her mother’s lips. “They have and I am most grateful that I gave him a second chance. I thought my trust in him had been misplaced but I was wrong.”
“Father will never see me as anything but the girl that eloped. He doesn’t think I have changed.”
Her mother released her hand and sat back. “You and your father have always been at odds with one another. I daresay it is because you are very similar.”
“Similar?” Enid repeated. “I think not.”
With a knowing look, her mother said, “You both are stubborn, almost to a fault, which served you well when you were on your own. But you are home now and don’t need to be so obstinate. Furthermore, you both are scared to be vulnerable.”
“There may be some truth to that,” Enid admitted with a slight shrug of her shoulder. “I don’t have the luxury of being vulnerable since I have Marigold.”
“Being vulnerable is not a weakness. It is quite brave, in fact.”
Enid shook her head. “Nothing good comes from being vulnerable. I must protect my heart at all costs.”
“That is a sad way to live.”
“It is a sensible way to live,” Enid countered.
Her mother’s eyes held compassion as she responded, “You have been hurt, there is no denying that, but there is so much joy in this world. All you have to do is look at Marigold to see it.”
“Precisely, which is why Marigold is enough for me.”
