It was the final paragraph that broke me.
With Lily’s natural talent in photography, it would be easy to envision a different path for the woman who touched so many. A lifetime of rewards and accolades, full magazine spreads, and a name of notoriety would certainly have been within her reach, but then she wouldn’t be the womanwho touched a town, she wouldn’t be the mother and friend to many. Every person I spoke to couldn’t mention Lily without also mentioning her apparent and fervent love for her son, her kindness, and her overarching aura of peace. She held on to a truth about life that so many of us realize too late. If success is measured by some standard that involves only accolades and money, then it might feel like Lily could have hoped for more, but Lily seemed to have an inherent wisdom that nothing would ever mean more to her than a present life with her son in a town that she loved. However, if legacy is measured by lasting memory and love, then the legacy of Lily Carmichael will far surpass most of ours.
She hadn’t even mentioned Richard Stanley or the scandal. There wasn’t even a hint of ugliness in the story because Claire hadn’t needed to. That wasn’t the point of this piece she wrote for me. Claire understood what I never could. Lily didn’tgive upher life for me; she lived a beautiful lifewithme. Claire wrote this to help me see what I was too stubborn to accept.
I was so loved by two amazing women, and I let one man I’d never met make me doubt it. I let a need for retribution hide what was right in front of me. Exactly what I accused Claire of doing.
I brought a balled fist to my mouth to push back a gasp of pain, to not let it happen, but it was too late. The sob had escaped, and after that, another one hiccuped out. The flood had been bursting through the dam, and it was finally freed.
My head dropped to my hands, and for the first time since my mother died, I sobbed. I let myself feel the loss of someone truly amazing.
Chapter 31
Levi
Pace handed me the sledgehammer.“It’s all for you,” he said, sliding his safety goggles down and gesturing to the wall.
In the two weeks since I pushed Claire away in the worst sort of way, I mourned, truly, finally deeply mourned, the loss of my mother.
Claire had been right. I needed to do it in my own time, but I also needed Claire to show me the truth about my beautiful life.
I swung the hammer and blasted a hole through the drywall of the storefront on Main Street.
I made an offer yesterday to Billy Mackenzie and would be opening by the new year.
I just had the holidays to do a ton of work. Thankfully, Pace and the town had been an incredible help.
For all my talk of having a good idea of who I was and what I wanted, it was never more clear to me that I had been hiding. The things that I thought made me strong were just a different version of fear. My stoicism was the fear.
I had Pace read the well-worn copy of the story, read dozens of times by now. Not only because I loved hearing the truth and admiring my mother’s amazing life, but because I could hear Claire in every word. It helped me feel closer to her.
Pace sniffled, and I set down the sledgehammer. “Damn, I miss that woman.”
“Me too,” I said.
He stood, and we hugged. “I was referring to Lily,” he said, releasing me to give my shoulder a final squeeze.
“I know.” I swallowed. “I was referring to both of them.”
“This is gonna be great,” Pace said, looking around to admire our work so far in transforming the former store into the Lily Carmichael Memorial Art Gallery.
“It is,” I agreed, feeling a frisson of hope.
“I’m glad you decided to take this place.”
“Me too. I would be stupid not to.” There was going to be an entire wall for Lily’s art, not for sale, just for viewing. “I was so ashamed to show my face in town. So convinced that everybody thought I should have done more. That’s why I got so mad at Claire.” I leaned on the hammer. “I never really thought she would write a story without my permission. She did more justice to my mother’s legacy than I ever had.”
I owed it to Lily to stop hiding out. I owed it to this town notto forget Lily. I owed it to myself to no longer be the loser in her story.
“Have you talked to Claire since she left?” Pace asked.
I shook my head. “I’m too chickenshit. I accused her of some awful stuff. And for a woman whose ethics are one of the main things she values about herself, I can’t imagine she’ll forgive me anytime soon.”
“Have you tried apologizing? Explained the shit about feeling ashamed for not being enough?”
“You think I should?”
Pace stared at me blankly. “Do I think you should apologize for being a huge asshole? Yes, Levi. Yes, I do.”
