“Business again?”
“This time it’s your business.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a manilla envelope that, for a brief moment, I thought was the very one I had brought to Brad the day before. She held it tightly for a second, then passed it to me.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
I undid the clasp and pulled out a stack of documents, then looked at her, my eyes wide. “This—what? How?”
It was the deed to the cottage.
“I signed it over to you yesterday.”
“But how did you get it?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve owned it for years now.”
“But—Louise sold it. And Bernie and Margaret wouldn’t—I don’t understand.”
“She did. And your grandfather offered the woman who bought it a lot more than she paid, but she said no. So he told her if she ever decided to sell to let us know first. And about ten years ago, she called us.”
Ten years ago.
“I told Fred it was silly. We were traveling so much and wouldn’t be spending enough time there to make it worth it. But he said we could rent it out and that it was a wonderful investment. The whole town has turned into such a tourist destination. So we bought it.” She reached across the table and took my hand. “And it’s the perfect place for you to get a fresh start.”
I squeezed her hand, my chest constricting at the magnitude of the gift she was giving me. What it meant to her. What it could mean for me. But—
“I don’t want to leave you.” It sounded so foolish when I said it, but it was true. She was a few weeks shy of eighty-nine. And after this week, I couldn’t imagine losing the last few years we would have.
She patted my hand and smiled that wicked Evelyn Bergman Gold smile that still held so many secrets I hadn’t uncovered yet. “Maybe you don’t have to. I own the cottage next door too.”
EPILOGUE
I opened my eyes, looking around at the now-familiar room, but still needing a few seconds to orient myself. Sunlight crept around the edges of the drawn curtains, which fluttered softly in the breeze from the open window.
Inhaling deeply, I could smell the salt of the ocean and the crisp odor of the pitch pines. The air had the hint of a chill in it, a whisper of what was to come from a Massachusetts winter.
Home, I thought drowsily. I’m home.
I had taken over the downstairs bedroom, claiming the antique dresser and desk from upstairs as mine when I learned they had come from the Main Street house.
Rolling over, I nestled in to go back to sleep, but a creaking sound caught my attention. It came again. Then a laugh, and my grandmother’s voice saying Tony’s name, followed by more creaking.
“We have got to start shutting that window,” Joe murmured, rolling over to wrap his arms around me. “That’s just gross.”
“It’s sweet too.” The creaking intensified, and I got up to shut the window quickly. “Okay, it’s gross.”
I crawled back under the covers and snuggled up against Joe. But something was off. “Why are you so hairy?” I asked.
“Why are you so hairy?”
We looked at each other, then pulled the blanket back.
“Jax!”
She grinned up at us, perfectly content where she was. And for the first time in my life, so was I.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I honestly have no idea how I wrote this book because it somehow happened over fourteen weeks in the hour and a half after my kids went to bed—after I spent all day teaching from home with a baby, in a pandemic. But I do know it wouldn’t exist without the help of so many people who kept me sane during this whole crazy process.
First and foremost, I have to thank my amazing editor, Alicia Clancy, and the whole team at Lake Union. You believed in me enough to buy this book before I even wrote it, and there are no words to express how much that confidence helped bring this to fruition. Thank you for your insightful edits and for letting me add “published author” to my bio.
My agent, Rachel Beck, is seriously one of my favorite people on the planet. I love being able to bounce ideas off you, and you’re one of the only people I’m comfortable asking for help （which, for a perfectionist with social anxiety, is REALLY saying something!）。 Thank you for being in my corner and for being the most amazing agent and friend in the world.
Thank you to my husband, Nick, for taking over sitting in Jacob’s chair while he fell asleep so I could write. For cleaning the kitchen, taking the dogs out, watching the kids, and the million other responsibilities I shirked to write this book. Thank you for listening when I needed to work a chapter out and for supporting my passion even before it helped pay the bills. I love you.