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woodworking and fireplaces, as well as the old radiators, even
though none of it was functional. She’d also gotten her copper
bathtub. Giana got her sleek, flashy kitchen and her
streamlined furniture, and one whole room devoted to the
paired down collection. She’d kept all her favorite things and
sold the rest. The money from the sales alone had more than
paid for the house and all the renovations.
One of those winter birds, a brown and gray fuzzy thing that
Coralyn felt desperately sorry for because it looked so cold
and was so tiny, hopped around in the branches of huge tree
they were sitting under. The bench was probably a good way
to get a snow shower on certain days, but it was too cold for
snow. Her nose was tingling, her toes were numb, and her legs
were all pins and needles, but she didn’t move.
“I feel so privileged to be able to share in your secrets and
your life and to go through this together. The grief and the
healing. People live for the good times, but I don’t think you
can make it if you don’t learn how to get through the tough
stuff too.”
Giana nodded in agreement, her breath puffing out in
another white cloud. “We might be crazy sitting out here. We
can go back if you want.”
“I’m good for at least another five minutes before I freeze to
the bench.” She leaned in, offering her quiet support, as she
often did. In the past, she’d hardly been without a thing to say.
Her dad had tried and tried to get her to learn the value of
quiet, but it wasn’t until this past year that she’d learned that
sometimes the best thing to do was just sit and say nothing.
She’d learned the value of letting go of the thoughts that
clogged her brain too. That wasn’t being quiet on the inside.
