“We wanted you to realize how much it meant to him,” Ethan says.
Mom smiles.
“Thank you,” she says simply.
It’s not what we wanted.
No big, dramatic, heartfelt conclusion to tie up everything real neat, but that’s life.
For now, someday is enough.
Someday, we’ll have true closure. An end to the hate, the heartache, and tears between the people we love most.
Someday, she’ll accept his apology from beyond the grave.
Dad massages her shoulders, and Mom leans up, kissing his hand.
They trade a glance I don’t quite understand.
“This was important, Evvie,” he says after a few moments. “It’s a fresh start.”
“Whatever it is, it’s left me famished.”
She reaches for her phone. Less than a minute after she types out a text, the chef rolls in.
He’s a tall man, pushing a trolley across the floor, and he starts unloading covered silver dishes onto the sideboard against the wall. Ares lumbers up and sits, ready for head scratches while he watches the food intently.
I should’ve seen this coming when we came over for ‘breakfast.’
“Mom never cooks,” I whisper to Kane. His eyebrows are halfway to his hairline.
He’s no stranger to wealth and comfort.
But as a man who still cooks for his kids a lot, this must beweird.Even if it’s always been an expression with money.
Love, in Mom’s own odd way.
Today, it’s an olive branch.
“I know the past year has been difficult. Years, really,” Mom says.
Ethan just nods, large and brooding from his seat. Hattie stares wide-eyed at the breakfast extravaganza, which is almost laid out now.
Dish after dish, piled high with everything from Belgian waffles and their fixings to small red smoothies in shot glasses and perfectly folded omelets.
Say what you will, but Elvira and Scott Blackthorn never half-assed hosting a meal in their lives.
“But,” she continues, “I’d like us to move on from the drama and his will.” She looks at me. “Especially you, honey. I want you happy, just like Ethan and Hattie here.”
Hattie giggles as she looks at my brother, who gives Kane the protective big-brother stare.
Dude, enough.
I tug Kane’s hand onto my lap. “Thanks, Mom. You know, I think I’m getting there, and it’s all thanks to Gramps.”
She studies me for a long moment before giving Kane another assessing glance.
“The lake house,” she says.
