“I need to discuss something with all of you,” she said. “Privately.”
They moved to the dining room and closed the doors. Lillian sat at the head of the table, a position that would have rankledKate three weeks ago but now just seemed practical given her difficulty walking.
“I saw my oncologist yesterday,” Lillian began. “The cancer has accelerated.”
The room went still.
“How much time?” Tom asked, ever practical.
“Six weeks. Perhaps two months.”
Dani made a small sound of distress. James reached for her hand.
“There are things that need to be settled,” Lillian continued, her voice steady despite the death sentence she'd just announced. “First, the inn.”
She opened the envelope, pulled out documents. “I'm restructuring the trust. Instead of parceling out money for repairs, I'm putting a lump sum in an account you'll control jointly. Two million dollars.”
Kate's coffee cup rattled as she set it down. “That's...”
“Enough to not just repair but truly restore the inn. To make it what Elizabeth always envisioned.” Lillian's eyes were bright with something: urgency, perhaps, or just the need to fix things while she still could. “But there are conditions.”
“Of course there are,” Kate muttered.
“Katherine.” Lillian's voice was sharp. “My conditions are simple. You work together. All four of you. Make decisions jointly. And you let Mr. Calloway oversee the renovations.”
“Ben? Why Ben?”
“Because he understands both construction and preservation. Because he cares about this place almost as much as you do. And because you trust him, even if you won't admit it.”
“I don't need...”
“Yes,” Lillian interrupted. “You do. You need him, you need your siblings, you need help. It's time you accept help.”
“My mother accepted your help and you cut her off.”
She pulled out another document. “This is my will. Upon my death, everything I have left goes to the inn, to be managed by the four of you equally. The Boston properties, the investment accounts, everything.” Lillian stood slowly, painfully. “Elizabeth chose love over money. But that doesn't mean her children should have to keep making that choice. You can have both. You can have the inn and stability. You can have love and security. My daughter gave you all the best gift she could, and that was family. You all have and will continue to have each other, if you’re smart and work together.”
She moved toward the door, then paused. “Six weeks, perhaps two months. I'd like to spend them here, if you'll have me. Not in the inn, I've rented a cottage nearby. But I'd like to have dinners with my grandchildren, to know Daniel while he still has moments of clarity, to be part of a family again, even briefly. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m hoping you’ll allow me this one final request.”
After she left, the siblings sat in stunned silence.
“Two million dollars,” James said finally.
“Six weeks,” Dani countered.
“We should give her what she wants,” Tom said. “Whatever happened in the past, we have to let it go. She's dying.”
Kate stood abruptly. “I need air.”
She found herself at the harbor, at the same dock where they'd found Pop yesterday. The water was calm today, reflecting the cloudy sky like tarnished silver. But the wind cut through her body like a knife. The bitter cold turned her cheeks red. She heard footsteps on the wooden boards and didn't need to turn to know it was Ben.
“Tom called you?” she asked.
“He's worried about you.”
“Everyone's worried about me.”
“Yeah, well, you're kind of worrying.”
