PART4

I looked at her.

“Are we?”

She frowned.

“You left.”

“You asked me to.”

“Oh Mara, don’t be dramatic.”

Brooke sighed loudly.

“You’re still on this?”

I set down my fork.

“Do either of you remember that I own the cabin?”

Lucas chuckled.

“There she goes with the deed again.”

I turned to him.

“You tied your boat to my dock without asking.”

“It’s a dock.”

“It’s my dock.”

Brooke rolled her eyes exactly the way she had weeks earlier.

“Why are you so obsessed with ownership?”

I almost answered.

Instead I smiled.

“Good question.”

Mom reached across the table.

“I think we should all agree to communicate better.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

She smiled with relief.

She thought the conversation was over.

It was.

Just not the way she imagined.

Closing Day
Twelve days passed.

The paperwork was signed at 10:15 Tuesday morning.

Funds transferred.

The deed recorded.

Just like that…

The lake house stopped belonging to the Collins family forever.

I handed Ethan the garage remotes.

Then I drove to the cabin one final time.

The Harrises met me there with homemade blueberry pie.

We walked through every room together.

I showed them how the old fireplace damper worked.

Where Grandpa had hidden spare fishing hooks.

How the porch light occasionally flickered during heavy rain.

Before leaving, I placed Grandpa’s second note inside my purse.

The house no longer belonged to me.

But his words always would.

Mrs. Harris hugged me unexpectedly.

“We know this wasn’t an easy sale.”

I smiled through tears.

“Promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Fill it with people who knock before they enter.”

She squeezed my hand.

“I promise.”

I drove away without looking back.

The Twelfth Day
Saturday arrived bright and sunny.

Around noon my phone rang.

Brooke.

I let it ring.

Then it rang again.

Then Mom called.

Then Warren.

Then Lucas.

Finally Brooke sent a voice message.

Her voice sounded confused.

“Mara… um… there’s an older woman inside the cabin saying she lives here. Did you rent it to someone? Call me.”

I smiled.

Thirty seconds later another message arrived.

This time she sounded panicked.

“Mara, this isn’t funny. She says she bought the house.”

I still didn’t answer.

Five minutes later my mother called for the fourth time.

I finally picked up.

Her first sentence came out almost as a scream.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

I looked out my apartment window at the quiet evening sky.

Then I answered as calmly as I had answered her twelve days earlier.

“I made it mine before someone else decided what it should be.”

“I made it mine before someone else decided what it should be.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

Then my mother’s breathing grew sharp.

“You sold it?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t have.”

“I already did.”