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“Just taking a breather,” I said to Jake with a smile.
The truth was, moving my grandparents’ stuff was harder than I thought. It was a reminder that they weren’t coming back. I’d never see my grandfather rocking on this chair or my grandmother putzing around in her vegetable garden. They were gone, and when all these amazing helpers left, I’d be alone again.
Jake sat on the rocker next to me. “You’re thinking pretty hard about something.”
I tried to smile to reassure him, but it felt brittle. “It’s hard to move their stuff. Like it’s final somehow.” More final than their memorial services or the gravestone. “I didn’t really deal with it when it happened. I hadn’t been living here when my grandfather died, so it was easier to move on with my life and not think of it. The only change was checking in on my grandmother more often. When Grandma died, I dove into the business.”
“You didn’t deal with it at all,” Jake said, his knowing gaze on me.
“I guess not.” And now it hurt to think of having to put my grandmother’s things in more boxes.
“You want to clean out the house while we’re here?”
I shook my head hard. I didn’t want others touching her things. It was something I needed to do by myself.
“This house is your grandmother’s.”
“I know it looks that way, but—”
“There are no buts about it. I expect your grandmother to walk in and offer me tea at any moment. Other than the bedroom, there’s nothing that says you live here.”
“So, what are you saying?” I asked, my chest filling with dread.
“You should make it your own. Dealing with their things might help you grieve. It sounds like you’ve been avoiding that.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” But the idea of coming home to rooms that had my things in it was attractive.
“You can start by clearing one room at a time. Slow but steady. Then think of the things you can fill the room with.”
“It would be nice to have a doily-free space.” I smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“If that’s your style,” Jake said.
I raised a brow at him.
“It might be. I don’t know.” I loved sitting with him on the porch and talking like this. If I didn’t feel bad that everyone around us was working hard, I might have been content to stay there and talk the day away. “We’d better get back to it.”
I stood and started to move past Jake. He stopped me with his hand circling my wrist. “Are you okay?”
I smiled softly. “I will be.”
I knew Jake was right. I hadn’t grieved properly, and going through the house was something I needed to do. It was a step in the right direction. This house was my future, not just my past.
He squeezed my wrist before letting it go.
When we moved back inside, the dining room was full of boxes.
“Do you want to get started now?” Jake asked.
“I’ll do it when everyone leaves.” We headed to the barn, which was mostly empty. Only a few tools remained. It was things I’d move to a garage if I had one. In the meantime, I’d have the guys move it to the summerhouse.
Then we joined the crew clearing the property. With all of us working through the afternoon, we removed all the old shrubbery and dead branches. It felt good to do physical labor, to ignore what I needed to do in the house. At least for a few hours.
Plus, I felt good having all these people come out to help me. I felt like a part of the community in a way I hadn’t before.
I ordered pizzas for late afternoon when it looked like we’d be finished with the majority of the work. When everyone was almost finished, I stood up to get everyone’s attention. “I wanted to thank everyone for coming out today. You didn’t have to, but you did.”
“That’s what friends do,” Remi said from where she sat on the steps.
