As she got ready for bed that night, Lily kept going over the last words she’d read at the end of the day. Jenny and Danny had each other. Lily had her kids, and tonight she’d had an amazing kiss from Mack, but she wanted more than that. She wanted a relationship so that at the end of the day, she could go to sleep cuddled up next to her husband. When she woke up in the morning, she wanted to have more than just pillows in bed with her. Why now? she asked herself. She’d been content with her lot for five years, and now she wanted someone in her life.

Your life has taken a turn for the better. Her mother’s voice in her head was so clear that she almost dropped the journal.

“I hope so, Mama,” she whispered as she put the journal back into its place in the secretary. When she tried to close the flap, it wouldn’t lock in place. She lowered it again, removed the journal, and felt all the way to the back side of the shelf. Her hand closed around something soft and furry, and she jerked her hand back like she’d been shocked. If that was a dead mouse in there, she was marching down the stairs to get Mack. There were two things she hated in the world—and dead or alive, a mouse was both of them.

Lily laid the journal on the bed and got a small flashlight from the drawer of her nightstand. Her hands shook as she adjusted the beam toward what she figured was a shriveled-up rodent. She thought of what Polly had said about saving nickels and dimes and turning them into bills when she saw the light-blue velvet bag.

She was surprised to see how solidly the bag was stuffed, and that it was heavy. When she undid the drawstring and wiggled the roll of bills out, she couldn’t believe that it was as big as her fist. A note was wrapped around the roll. Lily slipped the rubber band off, and the fifty-dollar bills spread out in her hands. She unfolded the note to read:

My dear Lily,

If you find this and are reading this, then I’m with your father in eternity. Polly will explain about the money. Take it and go on the vacation I never got to go on. Your dad hated the idea of being out in the water so far that he couldn’t see land. Going to Germany on a boat when he was in the army made him never want to do it again. Now that he’s gone, the desire to travel has left me. I just want to stay right here in this house where all his memories are. I hope someday Wyatt learns to appreciate you and the kids. If not, then shoot the sorry bastard. I never have liked him.

Love,

Mama