“Leave Lauren to me.”
“Grandma.” Sarah's voice was warm now, affectionate. “You really want to do this? It's a long drive. And you're...”
“Old? I'm aware. But I'm not dead yet, and I'm not going to sit in Florida while my family gathers in Massachusetts without me. I was there when that house was full of children. I watched your mother raise all five of you in that house, through good times and bad. I'm not saying goodbye through a phone screen.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with the truth of them. Sarah was quiet for a long moment.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Let me make some calls. I'll talk toTrevor tonight and reach out to Devon. If I can make it work on my end, I'm in.”
“That's my girl.”
“But Grandma? If we do this, I'm helping with the driving. You're not doing the whole thing yourself.”
“I wouldn't dream of it. These eyes aren't what they used to be after dark.”
“And we're stopping at actual hotels. Not sleeping in the RV.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Fine. Hotels. Soft beds. Running water that doesn't come from a tank. You young people are so spoiled.”
Sarah laughed. “I love you, Grandma.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Call me tomorrow.”
She ended the call and set the phone down with a satisfied sigh. Two conversations, two potential yeses. By this time tomorrow, she would know for certain, but already she could feel it coming together, the plan taking shape like a road stretching north toward spring.
Walter appeared at her elbow with a cup of tea, steam curling from the rim.
“You look pleased with yourself,” he said.
“I am.” She took the tea and wrapped her hands around its warmth. “I'm going to Massachusetts, Walter. I'm going to see my great-grandchildren born, and I'm going to walk through that house one more time, and I'm going to do it all surrounded by the women I love most in this world.”
He put his arm around her. “I'll miss you.”
“I know.” She leaned her head against his arm. “But some things are worth missing someone for.”
Outside, the Florida sun was beginning its slow descent toward the water. Sarah Garrison watched it through the window and thought about the house in Andover, about the rooms she had visited so many times over the years, about thefamily that had grown and scattered and somehow kept finding its way back to each other.
She had a few more phone calls to make, details to arrange, logistics to hammer out. But for now, she’d sip her tea and enjoy the satisfaction of a plan set in motion.
The road called. And Sarah Garrison had never been one to ignore a call.
CHAPTER 4
Christopher Wheeler stood on the deck of a house he already knew he didn't want, staring out at a view that should have been perfect but somehow wasn't.
The water stretched before him, blue-green and glittering under the March sun. A pelican glided low over the surface, its wings barely moving. In the distance, a sailboat tacked lazily toward the horizon. It was the kind of view that belonged on postcards, the kind of view that made tourists fall in love with Southwest Florida and never want to leave.
And yet.
“The kitchen was renovated in 2019,” the real estate agent was saying behind him, her voice bright with professional enthusiasm. “All new appliances, quartz countertops, custom cabinetry. The previous owners spared no expense.”
Christopher turned to look at his wife. Becca stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the deck, Eloise balanced on her hip. Their daughter was seven months old now, all round cheeks and curious eyes, her tiny fist wrapped around a strand of Becca's hair. Becca's expression said everything her words wouldn't, at least not in front of the agent.
This wasn't the one either.
