“I don't care if she's dying.”
“She is.” Dani's eyes filled with tears. “She has cancer. Pancreatic. She wanted to meet us before… to make amends.”
“Amends.” Kate laughed. “She cut Mom off for marrying Pop. She skipped her own daughter's funeral. What possible amends…”
“She wants to help. With the inn. With Pop's care. With everything.”
“We don't need her help.”
“Don't you?” Dani gestured at the inn. “Look at this place, Katie. Really look at it. The roof is failing. The paint's peeling. Pop needs more care than you can give. And you're too proud to admit you're drowning.”
“I'm managing.”
“You're sinking. And taking Pop down with you.”
Kate slapped her. She didn't plan it, didn't think about it. Her hand just moved, connecting with Dani's cheek with a crack that seemed to echo in the cold air.
They stared at each other, both shocked.
“I'm sorry,” Kate started.
“No.” Dani touched her cheek, which was already reddening. “I deserved that. Maybe. But Katie, she's here. In town. And she's not going away.”
“What does she want?”
“To meet her grandchildren. To see Pop. To...” Dani paused. “To give us our inheritance. The one Mom would have had if she hadn't married Pop.”
“Blood money.”
“Money that could save the inn. Save Pop. Save you from killing yourself trying to hold everything together.”
Kate heard footsteps inside. Ben Calloway appeared in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.
“Sorry to interrupt. I'm heading out. I'll email those estimates tonight.” He paused, clearly sensing the tension. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” Kate said automatically.
He nodded, not believing her. “I'll see myself out.”
After his truck pulled away, Kate turned back to Dani. “You invited her here, didn't you? That's why you came early.”
Dani didn't deny it. “She wants to have dinner. Tomorrow night.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It's not your call alone. This is Pop's house. And she's our grandmother, whether you like it or not.”
“She's nothing to us, and I wouldn’t put Pop through that.”
“She's dying, Katie. Whatever she did, whoever she was… she's dying. Don't we owe Mom something? To at least hear her out?”
“We don't owe that woman anything.”
“Not her. Mom.” Dani's voice broke. “What if Mom would have wanted us to forgive her? What if…”
“Mom's dead. She doesn't want anything.”
They stood in the cold, the space between them feeling vast despite the small porch. Snow started to fall, light flakes that would probably turn heavy by nightfall.
