“It would appear that she wants to be family,” James translated.
Kate looked out the window to where Ben was already working, securing new boards to the roof structure. He'd been there since eight, hadn't even knocked, just started working. She envied him the simplicity of his task, see the problem, fix it, move on.
At exactly ten o'clock, the Mercedes pulled into the drive. Lillian emerged, today in navy blue instead of black, still elegant but somehow softer. She walked to the door slowly, as if giving them time to change their minds.
Kate let her in. “Mrs. Whitfield.”
“Lillian. Please.” She looked tired despite her perfect makeup. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
They gathered in the dining room, the five of them around the table like some corporate board meeting. Lillian sat at one end, very straight, her hands folded on a leather portfolio.
“First,” she said, “I want to be clear. This money comes with no strings except one; I want to be part of your father’s caredecisions. Not to override you, Katherine, but to be included. To help.”
“Why?” Kate asked bluntly.
“Because he loved my daughter. Because he made her happy. Because I owe him years of apologies I can never fully make.” Lillian's voice was steady, but Kate caught the slight tremor in her hands. “And because I'm dying, and I don't want to die knowing I could have helped and didn't.”
“How long?” James asked gently.
“Three months. Perhaps six if I'm fortunate.” She said it matter-of-factly, like discussing the weather. “The treatments aren't working. So I've stopped them.”
Dani made a small sound of distress. Lillian glanced at her with something that might have been affection.
“Now,” Lillian continued, opening her portfolio, “the trusts are already established. One for Daniel's care, it will cover full-time nursing, all medical expenses, any equipment needed. The second is for the inn itself, enough to cover all repairs, pay off the mortgage, and provide operating capital for five years.”
The number she named made Kate's head spin. It was more than the inn had ever been worth, more than she could imagine.
“That's...” Tom started.
“It's what Elizabeth's inheritance would have been, with interest.” Lillian's voice was firm. “It's what she should have had.”
“She chose not to have it,” Kate said.
“No. I chose for her. I gave her an ultimatum no mother should give.” Lillian looked directly at Kate. “I told her if she married your father, she'd be cut off completely. No money, no family, no contact. I thought she'd choose security. I underestimated her capacity for love.”
The room was silent except for the sound of Ben's hammer overhead.
“There's one more thing,” Lillian said. She pulled out an envelope, yellow with age. “Elizabeth wrote to me, several times. I never answered, but I kept the letters. I thought... you might want them.”
Kate took the envelope with numb fingers. Her mother's handwriting was on the front:Mother.
“I'll give you time to discuss,” Lillian said, standing. “But I need to know today. Dani says the bank needs notification by close of business if we're to stop the foreclosure proceedings.”
“That’s right,” Dani confirmed.
“Well then, you’ll need to decide quickly. You have my cell phone number,” she said as she walked out the front door.
After she left, the siblings sat in stunned silence. Pop wandered in, looking confused.
“Was someone here?” he asked.
“Just a visitor, Pop,” Kate said.
“Oh.” He noticed the pastries Dani had brought. “Those look good.”
“Have one,” Dani said, pushing the box toward him.
Pop carefully selected a Danish and then carried it back to his chair.
