Dani touched the ring self-consciously. “Lillian gave it to me. It was Mom's, from when she was young.”
“She's giving you Mom's jewelry now?”
“She said Mom would want me to have it.”
“How would she know what Mom wanted? She wasn't here. Besides, how does she even have anything of Mom’s after all this time? This is ridiculous.”
“Katie…”
“No, this is exactly what I'm talking about. She comes in with money and suddenly she's family? Suddenly she knows what Mom would want?”
“Maybe she does know some things. She was Mom's mother for eighteen years.”
“And then she wasn't for twenty more.”
They were interrupted by Tom calling. Dani put him on speaker.
“I've been reviewing the trust documents,” he said without preamble. “Did you know Lillian put in a clause about maintaining the inn's 'historical character'?”
“What?” both sisters said simultaneously.
“She actually protected against over-modernization. Any changes have to be approved by a family committee, all four of us.”
Kate felt a spark of hope. “So she can't just redesign everything?”
“Not unilaterally. Though she can make suggestions. And,” Tom paused, “she does have experience. Did you know she ran three hotels in Boston before she retired?”
“She what?”
“Boutique properties. Very successful. She knows what she's doing, Kate.”
After Tom hung up, the sisters sat in silence. Then Dani said quietly, “Maybe we should actually listen to her. She might want to make a few changes, but she wouldn’t have put that clause in unless she understands about maintaining the history of the inn.”
“You're already listening. You're wearing her jewelry, taking her suggestions, acting like she belongs here.”
“Maybe she does belong here. She's our grandmother.”
“She's a stranger with a checkbook.”
Dani stood to leave, then paused. “You know what your problem is, Katie? You think suffering makes you noble. You think accepting help makes you weak. But all it really makes you is alone.”
Dani stormed out of the room, leaving Kate frustrated and angry.
After her sister left, Kate sat in the empty dining room. Alone.
Her phone rang. Ben.
She let it go to voicemail.
A text followed:Just wanted to make sure you're okay. You seemed upset this morning.
I'm fine,she typed back.Stop worrying about me.
Someone should.
The presumption of it made her angrier.I've been taking care of myself for years. I don't need you or anyone else.
This time, he didn't respond.
