Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Quote
- Prologue
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- Part Two
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- Part Three
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Part Four
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- Part Five
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Part Six
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- Part Seven
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Part Eight
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- Part Nine
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Part Ten
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Part Eleven
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- Part Twelve
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- Part Thirteen
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- AUTHOR NOTE
- Reader’s Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- The Heirloom Garden
- Abby
“I didn’t want to lose Cozy Cottage either,” he says. “It’s part of our lives. It’s who we are. I can’t imagine my life without it. Dad never liked it, I know, but us...” Evan stops, and his deep voice cracks. I instantly remember watching a rerun of The Brady Bunch as a kid, an episode in which Peter Brady’s voice cracks when he sings a solo. Evan continues. “Thank you for saving it,” he says with emotion. “Some people don’t get the beauty of a summer cottage, but the magical campers do, don’t they, Mom?”
My heart leaps into my throat. Evan is repeating the words my dad always said to me when Nate refused to recite the rules.
“Oh, Evan,” I say. “You remember.”
“How could I forget?” he says, before suddenly asking, “But why, Mom? What prompted all this?”
How can I sum up a lifetime of wonder, love, loss, mistakes, heartaches, precious moments and wasted time to a nineteen-year-old? I think. How can I explain what happens to adults when they do what is expected, take the path of least resistance, playact through life?
“You know, Evan,” I begin, “I feel like I need a new start. In my previous life, I would have fretted about quitting my job, and Nate would have grabbed a calculator to figure out lost income and what this would do to our retirement. But I’ve thought too long about health care plans and 401(k)s, and doing what everyone else wants and expects, and squeezing into a way of life that doesn’t really fit who I want to be.”
I stop and take a deep breath. “To be honest, I only have about four hundred months in my life’s checking account if I live into my eighties, and that, for once, seems more important than what’s in my retirement account. I want to do something meaningful and courageous, something that makes me deeply and achingly happy. For once, I want to hold my breath, close my eyes and jump.”
For a long moment, Evan doesn’t speak, and I think I have lost my reception or he’s hung up, but then he says in a voice that sounds as if he is that little boy I used to hold in my arms, “Then jump, Mom. And I’ll be there to catch you if you fall.”
“Oh, Evan,” I say, before covering the phone to muffle my sniffles.
“The fall can’t hurt any worse than the one you just had, can it?” he asks. “You know, Mom, I get it. I really do. It’s not easy to be on a campus where everyone knows Dean Clarke is your father, and that his new girlfriend isn’t much older than his son.” He stops. “I know I get free tuition, and that’s huge, but sometimes I feel like I need a new start, too.”