Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She lifted it to eye view, feeling her face beam. She swiped swiftly, answering the FaceTime. “G, what are you doing up this early?” Dahlia smiled, looking at her handsome grandfather on the screen. From what she could see, he was wearing a thick white robe that matched his hair and wassitting poolside on his California patio. “Look at you all fancy, FaceTiming me.”
“Well, thank heavens for my tech-savvy great-granddaughter. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it,” he said, his voice laced with tiny fissures. She’d gotten used to the tone of his voice, and she found it quite comforting since he was the one elder she had left.
“Well, you’re better than me. It took me years.” She laughed, walking into her bedroom. It had taken some time not to call it Lil’s, but day by day, the house was feeling more like hers.
“Dahlia, I couldn’t sleep. Please tell me you’ll come to California for Thanksgiving. I have so many people I want you to meet.”
He was the sweetest man alive, and she still had so much to do before the gallery opened, but how on earth could she say no? “I will under one circumstance.” She slipped on her suede booties.
“What is it?” he asked.
“That you’ll think about coming here for Christmas and Hanukkah and stay longer this time.” Her breath was caught in her chest, waiting for his response. It would be so nice to host a holiday there again. And she’d never celebrated Hanukkah. Dahlia couldn’t think of anything better than to honor his faith in Lil’s house, which was now hers.
“Yes, of course, I’d love to come and celebrate with my girls.”
“Okay, good, then it’s settled. Daisy will be here too.” All Dahlia could think about were the Christmas lights. The ones she hadn’t thought she’d be here to see and enjoy.
“You can fly into Burbank and stay at my place when you come in November,” Gene said. “And bring Noah. We’ve gotten pretty close these last few months.”
“I know you have, but I’m not sure I want to share you, G.” She laughed. She didn’t care that he was one of the most beloved actors of all time. To her, he was just G, short for Gene, and now Grandpa.She felt like the luckiest girl in the world. “Listen, I’ve got to run. I have lots to still do before the big day,” she said, closing the bedroom door.
“Okay. Good luck, honey.”
“Wait, G?” Dahlia stood still in the hallway.
“Yes?” His voice cracked.
“I love you,” Dahlia said, feeling her heart expand into the ethers.
“Oh, sweetheart. I love you too.”
“Bye, for now.” With that, she ended the call.
She held the phone against her chest and beamed. The feeling ofhaving peoplenever seemed to get old.
Dahlia walked down the creaky, wooden stairs, admiring her gallery wall of framed botanicals. She ran her fingers across the climbing yellow roses, feeling taller and wiser. Harry was sitting by the door with the leash in his mouth, ready to go.
Dahlia chuckled. “Aww, Harry. You coming today, boy?” Dahlia walked into the crisp, bright kitchen and stopped to admire the changes.I did this, she thought. She gazed at all the updates that transformed this outdated space and brought it into the current century. “I think you would approve, Lil. I’m finally living a life of color.” Dahlia scanned the white marble countertop and freshly painted green cabinets with a satisfied smile. Willow Leaf had turned out to be a solid paint choice, Noah was right.
Dahlia grabbed her jacket from the chair and stuffed her tote with a few manila folders and the lunch Noah had made for her in the morning before he left. She poured coffee into a to-go and reached for a lavender scone off the counter. “The last thing on your bucket list, Lil.”
On the way out, she passed her mother’s watercolor birthday cards framed on the wall. In all the twenty-two containers, they found eight still in good condition, untouched by the elements.Dahlia felt goosebumps and a tingling in her nose. Her only regret was that her mother wasn’t there to witness this evolution and that she’d never know the truth of her parents’ love story. The one that, after all these years, had a conclusion and a happy ending after all.
Her phone buzzed.Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?Kara texted.
Dahlia exhaled a happy sigh. She was proud of herself.Thanks, Cuz!she wrote back.
She opened the heavy wood door and heard it shut behind her. It was the sound of home; no matter how many times she’d heard it since arriving, it always made her smile. She walked onto her freshly painted porch, which had a Portico Blue ceiling and stacked pumpkins. The ladder shuddered from above, prompting Harry to run, bark, and play detective.
Dahlia stepped onto the grass and looked up at the exterior. “You think you’ll finish today?” she asked, covering her eyes from the blinding sun.
“That’s the plan. We have just the trim left. The weather is going to get cold after this week. So I want to get it done,” shouted the painter from the second story.
Dahlia stood back while Harry sniffed.
“Do you still like the color?” the painter hollered.
She lifted her chin, feeling her chest swell with pride. “Oh, yes. Buttercup yellow was the perfect choice.” She couldn’t wait to see it in the summer against the flowers in bloom.
