I opened my folder and looked at the contract, expecting to see something hideous, but it was a good one with more pay and health benefits—evendental. It was only until January, but there was a stipulation that suggested that it could be extended if my employer needed me. The wording gave me pause, and I closed the folder again.
My last contract stated Eula by name. It was sobering that this one didn’t.
Beside my new contract was another folder, and at first I thought that maybe that was another one for me to sign, but when I opened it I realized it wasn’t for me at all. The paper was old and yellowed. It only took scanning it to realize what it was—Eula’s will. The one she’d talked about last night. Underneath it was a newer will, fresh off the printer.
I’m not a good man, Rus had warned.
There was a willow cutting, its leaves dark bluish green,and a note attached to the top of it, written in an elegant scrawling hand—
I know you had a great vision of the two of us carrying this place, but this is better.
In it, he’d written himself completely out of the inheritance and named Oliver the sole beneficiary. The willow meant sadness in the language of flowers, as if this was something he wanted but didn’t think he deserved to have. Ache squeezed my heart. Eula had a good plan, but everyone just kept getting in their own way. Oliver and his grudges, Rus and his guilt, Eula and her grief—
Rus didn’t want this. He couldn’t want this, not really.
But it wasn’t my decision, and there were some things that I couldn’t make grow even if I wanted.
Closing the folder again, I turned and left down the stairs, the contract unsigned.
40
viraha
As I pushed my way out the front door and down the steps, my phone vibrated. In the distance, a line of cars was already snaking their way up to the estate. They would be parked all along the cliffside road, more people here than ever before.
The sun was warm as it sank across the horizon, and the wind was coming up the cliffs in a chilly breeze. I just had to keep Cyrus away from the gardens until nightfall.Easy.
My phone vibrated again, and I pulled it out of my dress pocket. It was my mom, though she knew that tonight was the bicentennial. She wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency, so I answered it as I made my way around the side of the house toward the Willow Grove.
“Mom? Is everything all right?” I asked worriedly.
“Whose dress isthat?” She sounded distraught.
I didn’t understand. “What? Is everything okay?”
“And Sophie Magnolia Drear, are you really wearingtennisshoes with it?”
“What do you—” I froze and looked down at my attire. Juliette had let me borrow one of her tea-length dresses. It was a shade of reddish orange that reminded me of poppies, thedesign simple and A-line, and my work tennis shoes. It was a little bit of a strange combination, but—“These are the only shoes I have,” I said helplessly, and then added, “How do you know what I’m wearing?”
“Because you said Maine was pretty, sprout,” she replied, and I felt my heart leap into my throat, “and I figured I might as well see it for myself. Turn a little to your left. We’re in front of the lilies.Hello!”
I heard her down the path, and there she was on the way into the Lily Walk, in a pretty magnolia-themed dress, Eddie beside her in a suit jacket and cargo shorts. She waved, smiling brightly.
“Sprout!” she called, rushing up to me. She squeezed me tightly. “Oh, you’re so right! It’slovelyup here!”
“I can’t believe you made it. How—I just talked to you—you . . .”
Mom kissed my cheek, and then Eddie came over and picked me up in a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you, Sophie!” he roared. “Ineverthought I’d get your mom in an RV, but I finally did it!”
“Yes, dear,” Mom said, wilted, “we are living yourNational Lampoondream.”
He mock-whispered to me, “We might even make this ayearlypilgrimage,” with a wink.
I was still flummoxed that they were both here, in front of me, at Lilymoor. I hadn’t seen either of them since Christmas, and it had been a fairly bad Christmas, all things considered. So the tears in my eyes were absolutely warranted, as was the moment I brought them both in for another hug. I knew I missed them, but I didn’t realize how much I did until I smelledMom’s perfume. After a few minutes, I composed myself, pushing the tears out of my eyes.
“Oh, sprout, is something wrong?” Mom asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great,” I said, my voice too high for it to be true. “I just—I really missed you guys.”
