“Yeah, definitely. But I think we know life enough to be able to say that things change. Nothing is ever certain.” Francis took his hand and they sat there like that for a moment.
“How’s Charles?” Mark asked, already knowing the answer.
“He passed away early this morning.”
“Is it weird that I feel worse about him than my dad?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay.”
* * * *
Charles was buried in the cemetery in Mercer. Henrietta sat in a wheelchair; her health had started to go downhill rapidly after Charles passed.
After the service and once everyone had left the Grahams’ house, only Henrietta, Moira, Francis, and Mark were left by Henrietta’s request.
They sat at the dining table, and Henrietta looked frail yet determined.
“I’m going to go with Moira, once we’ve sorted out what I want to take with me and what she wants from the house.” She made eye contact with everyone. “I wanted to ask if you two would like to buy this house off me?”
Francis gasped, and Mark just… well, he stared. Moira didn’t seem surprised, just pleased, but it seemed to be her default mode with anything positive.
“Uh…,” Mark finally managed.
“I don’t—I mean…,” Francis stammered, obviously a bit shell-shocked.
“Mother is right. We’d sell the house anyway, but the real estate market is horrible here. Even with a house like this, or maybeespeciallywith a house like this. It needs a lot of upkeep and while you guys did a lot during the summer, there’s still things that need work,” Moira stated what they all knew already.
“We could spruce it up and hope for the best,” Henrietta said. “But I think you’d enjoy the house a lot more. You have memories connected to it now, and I’d rather it went for someone who cares about it and the people who… who used to live here.” Her voice broke at the end and Moira stroked her back.
“We’ll never get good money out of it. Not here, not in the condition it’s in. So if you two want it, we can certainly sell it to you in a more than a reasonable price.”
Francis cleared his throat, then looked at Mark. “I do love the house.” He glanced at Henrietta. “And the people.”
She smiled through her tears.
“I do too,” Mark replied. “I have been thinking about asking my landlord to sell me my little house, but it’s a bit small for two people, especially ones who have many friends who might visit in the future.” He grinned at Francis.
“Oh God, I didn’t even think about that.” Francis chuckled.
“You could have couple of the rooms upstairs in AirBnB type use if you ever needed the money,” Moira said. “Just a thought. This house has so much promise once it’s fixed and redecorated—no offence, Mother.”
Henrietta snickered. “None taken. I know it’s more than a little dated.”
“I’ll get a realtor to draw up the papers and you can take a look, see what you think?” Moira looked at Francis and Mark expectantly, and they nodded in unison.
“Yes, please.” Francis reached for Mark’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Thank you for the offer,” Mark said to Henrietta and Moira both. “It means a lot.”
Epilogue
It felt as if the whole town and half of New Jersey was there.
Mark sat on the porch, cradling Lotte and Jason’s little Wren in his arms. The baby was almost a year old and loved “Uncle Mark” a lot. In fact, when Joey had wanted his mother to go with him to play with Kaos and Padraig’s dogs, Lotte had plopped Wren on his lap and told him to “sleepify the baby.”
There was a soccer game going on to one side of the backyard with everyone playing as hard as they dared without actually hurting anyone.
