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In truth, I’d done very little.
In my high school days, I visited grandma everyday. I helped her clean, made Christmas cookies with her every year, and helped her decorate the entire house every season. After I moved away, I still called everyday. I even surprised grandma on a few occasions, making a quick trip out to see her and help her set up before any big holiday event. Then, I’d disappear as quickly as I’d arrived, avoiding any contact with the members of the family who expected more from me than I was willing to give.
To them, at least.
When I wasn’t around, I followed all the basic Saunders’ family traditions and listened to all the stories my grandparents had to tell. Things my cousin cared very little for. All he cared about was embedding himself in the family business, taking over one day, and transforming it into a company all on his own.
“Not to worry, though,” Mr. Philips said. “Y'all's children have also been left a sizable inheritance for their troubles. And, of course, they will also be allowed to remain involved in the family business for as long as they so desire.”
“Allowed?” Vanessa snapped, rising to her feet once again and staring down her perfectly straight nose at Mr. Philips. “I’mallowedto stay on at the business that I’ve been working at for ten years, now? This is insanity.”
Vanessa swiveled around to face me, her chocolate brown hair flailing from side to side in a flourish. I suppose it was meant to intimidate me, but I’d seen worse. “You haven’t heard the last of us. You won’t get away with this. I will contest this decision, and I will see you all in court.”
Each remaining member of Kyle’s family stood, popping up one by one like ducks lining up in a row. They stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind them with a force that sent shockwaves throughout. The windows clattered. The china stacked in grandma’s hutch chimed their silent pleas to remain intact. Somewhere in the house, one unlucky photo frame fell to the floor.
What was happening? Was I now stuck here forever? My grandmother couldn’t have meant for this to happen. She wouldn’t have wanted me to be trapped in a town I hated, surrounded by people who hated me back. I couldn’t even sell the house. Too many memories lingered within these walls to have its contents gutted, for me to allow strangers to take the place of four generations of Saunders.
I couldn’t just leave it either. The taxes alone were astronomical. And it cost too much to leave it empty for several months out of the year, or indefinitely, while I went off in search of another destiny to call my own.
I could slowly see my life slipping through my fingers like grains of sand draining through an hourglass. This couldn’t be my life. This couldn’t be how I’d live out the rest of my days.
“Well, Miss Lyndsey,” Mr. Philips said, drawing me back to face him. He dangled the keys out in front of me, a knowing smile playing across his lips. The devil. He knew exactly how I felt, all the things running through my mind. He was too perceptive not to.
And still he added, “Welcome home.“
* * *
The remainder of the day passed without much bloodshed and tears.
I figured I might hear from my cousins again at least once during the day, but they never showed. So instead, I resigned myself to settling into my home, mynewhome.
My grandmother’s home.
There was no configuration of words that made any part of that sentence sound right. How could I be a homeowner in a town I would’ve never imagined to call home again? Even worse, how could the one woman who made this place feel like home be gone?
There were so many memories in this house, so many things that reminded me of my grandmother and all the beautiful holidays, birthdays, and events we had shared here in this house. The town deemed Hummingbird Hollow a historic site in the nineties. It survived the Civil War, countless decades of weathering, and about three major social events every year since the 1920’s.
All I cared about was how I would ever be able to measure up to it.
The twinkling of my phone drew my attention away from the nostalgia seizing me. I held it up to read the name and released a sigh of relief.
Aly.
If there was anyone who could brighten the mood of this moment, it was my college roommate and best friend. Aly had been distant for the past two months, jet-setting off to Europe for her huge honeymoon excursion and then plunging headfirst into the charity work she founded alongside her husband.
Hell, even I’d be distant with a hunk of a man like that in front of me. Not to mention all the adventure Aly faced exploring a new world and pursuing her dreams.
What must that be like? Pursuing your dreams?
Even with everything Aly had going on, she’d still found time for me when she heard about my grandmother’s passing. She’d made time to call me everyday and do a quick check of my emotional state before leaving me to my own devices. I’m not going to lie, it had been pretty touch and go there for a few days, but I pulled through.
I could not have asked for a better friend.
“Hey, girl,” I answered the phone. “How’s the charity work going?”
“Everything’s fine,” Aly said. “We’re right on schedule to start operations next month. How about you? How did the reading go?”
I passed from room to room, looking at trinkets along the way and recalling every memory attached to them. Somewhere overhead, I thought I heard a floorboard creak.
