Crosby bent, opening a drawer and pulling out a file. Instead of sitting in the chair behind his desk, he took the seat next to me, placing the folder on his lap. “How are you holding up?”
Crosby’s gentle tone had me bristling. “You don’t need to baby me. I’m not going to break. Just tell me how long I have before I need to be out of the guest house.”
He blinked at me. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? For you to tell me I need to move out of The Gables? I assume the Abbots are going to sell it.” My lungs seized. Oh God, I really hoped they weren’t planning on returning to Anchor. I didn’t think I could handle their snide looks and comments on a regular basis.
Crosby lifted a hand as if he were going to place it on my knee and then set it back on the folder. “You don’t have to move out.”
“I don’t?”
“No. That’s what I brought you in to talk about.”
“I have to pay rent or something?” I was sure the Abbots would charge me something astronomical that I had no prayer of being able to afford.
“No.”
I made an aggravated noise in the back of my throat. “Spit it out already, Crosby.”
“Harriet left you The Gables.”
My entire body went lax, including my jaw, which fell completely open. “W-w-what?”
Crosby sighed, gripping the folder a little tighter. “Harriet left you The Gables in her will, along with a trust that has enough in it to cover taxes and upkeep for at least three generations to come.”
My mind spun in countless directions, thoughts leapfrogging over each other as they somersaulted through my brain. “She didn’t say anything.”
“Harriet knew you’d fight her on it if she told you.”
Tears stung the backs of my eyes as my breaths came quicker. I stared down at my fingers. Why were they tingling?
“Breathe, Brown Eyes. Just breathe.”
The hand on my shoulder made me jump, and my gaze shot to Crosby. “Why?”
“She loved you as if you were her own.”
A single tear escaped my left eye, and I hurried to brush it away. Harriet was mine, too. My partner in crime. My person. But she was gone. I couldn’t imagine roaming those familiar hallways without her cackling laughter or the faint scent of her rose perfume.
“She left you a letter.” Crosby pulled a creamy white envelope out of his file and handed it to me.
My chest squeezed at the familiar paper. Letter writing is a lost art, sweet girl. I held the envelope up to my nose, inhaling deeply. The faint hint of rose still clung to the paper. How many times had I opened a letter just like this one while I was away at college? They had always been full of island gossip and funny stories. But this one…what would this one hold?
As carefully as possible, I pulled back the envelope’s flap, my hands stilling for a brief moment before removing the thick, folded paper inside. I took a deep breath and gave it a gentle tug, unfolding the meticulously arranged stationery.
My sweet girl,
I hate the idea of writing this to you. But I know if I were to broach this subject now, I’d only have a fight on my hands. We’re stubborn, you and I. And that stubbornness has its benefits and its detriments. But I’m a crafty old broad, and one thing death will give me is the last word.
Take The Gables, Kenna. There is no one in this big, beautiful world, I want to have it more. You’ve always seen it as more than a prime piece of real estate. You saw it for what it should always be. A sanctuary. One full of the tales of the past and with potential for endless stories of the future.
Make it a home again. Bring life and love back to its halls. The Gables has been far too empty for much too long. It should be full of laughter, raucous parties, heartfelt conversations. I want you to give yourself the home you always should’ve had. Build a family there. Fall into a soul-shaking love. Make the life of your dreams.
But to do that, you can’t be afraid to fall, my sweet girl. You always fall before you soar.
I’ll love you forever and always, my greatest treasure.
Love,
Your Harriet
A tear splashed onto the paper, and I quickly blotted it with the sleeve of my blouse. It was the only way I knew I was crying. I couldn’t feel the wetness on my cheeks or the pressure in my eyes.
I’d never felt more loved or more alone. I had no idea how my body could house the extreme intensity of both emotions. It was as if I were exploding out and collapsing in, all at the same time. My very being was at war with itself.
“I need you to say something.”
I couldn’t seem to form words. Didn’t want to move my eyes from the paper in front of me. The last beautifully curved letters I’d ever receive from Harriet.
A hand squeezed my shoulder. “You’re really starting to freak me out. Do I need to call Bell’s dad?”
I jolted at those words, quickly wiping my eyes and forcing my gaze up. “I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.”
“You’re not fine. No one expects you to be fine. I just want to make sure you’re not going catatonic on me. Maybe you should have a donut, get a little sugar running through that bloodstream.”
I scowled at Crosby. “I told you, I don’t like donuts.”
Crosby’s lips twitched. “Harriet told me Wholly Donuts are your favorite.”
My cheeks heated. That traitor. What else had she told the man sitting next to me? “I only eat them on Sundays.”
“Why in God’s name would you have that rule?”
“I try to eat healthy the rest of the week. Sunday is my cheat day.”
“Your cheat day…”
I straightened my spine, willing away the heat still coursing in my face. “Yes. It’s all about balance.”
“Only letting yourself indulge one day a week isn’t balance, Doll Face.”
“I don’t remember asking your opinion on the matter. And don’t use your patronizing pet names on me.”
Crosby held up his hands. “All right, all right. I’ll stick to Brown Eyes and only bring you donuts on Sundays from now on.”
I bit back the names I wanted to hurl at Crosby. They’d only give him some perverse sense of satisfaction. I forced myself to take a slow, steadying breath. “What do I need to do next?”
Crosby flipped the folder on his lap closed. “I’ll get the deed transferred to you. You’ll have to sign some paperwork, and that’s it.”
A few scrawled lines and the place that had been my sanctuary for most of my life would be my safe space forever. But what Harriet had asked of me, what she wanted me to build in The Gables, that was going to be far more challenging. I glanced down at the letter in my hand, the looping script staring back at me. The vision she had for The Gables, for me, it was far riskier than I’d ever considered. The life of my dreams had always been comprised of one word: steady. People and things that I could count on. Suddenly, that dream felt just a little bit empty.
8
Crosby
I stared at the door for far too long after it’d closed in Kenna’s wake. The emotions that had cascaded over her face as she read Harriet’s letter played on an endless loop in my mind. I’d never seen Kenna so unguarded. It was as if Harriet were the one person who had the keys to unlock all the things she hid beneath her fiercely protected surface.