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 just don’t want you feeling guilty, Mom,” he says. “You’ve spent a lot of your life feeling that way, and it is time that ends.”
I burst into tears. I don’t mean to, but my son’s words feel as if I’ve just eaten a million balloons. I’m soaring—with hope, elation, love, admiration for the man my son is becoming—and I can’t contain my emotions.
“I love you so much, Evan,” I say.
“Me, too, Mom.”
I reach over, and my son gives me the tightest hug of his life. And then we float in silence on the Adie Lou, drifting back and forth and back and forth, going nowhere but everywhere.
Part Thirteen
Rule #13:
Everyone Must Be Present for Sunset!
FORTY-FIVE
“I want everything to be perfect.”
I place a bouquet of peonies on a table in the honeymoon cottage. White peonies with pink centers sit prettily in an aqua McCoy vase of my grandma’s. I rush around arranging more bouquets—roses in Ball jars and sprays of ferns in baskets—until Evan urges me to stop.
“You don’t want it to look like a funeral home, Mom,” he says.
His choice of words unnerves me.
“You do know who this is for, don’t you?”
Evan shakes his head.
“Bob and Grace DeLancey,” I say. “They’re celebrating their sixtieth wedding anniversary.” I stop. “It’s just that...” I stop again and fidget with a falling fern to mask my emotions.
I continue, my voice warbly, as if I just swallowed a hummingbird. “It’s just that your grandparents never reached that anniversary. I will never reach such an anniversary. It’s a big deal, and I want it to be perfect.”
Evan walks over and tucks the frond just-so, before putting his hand on my back. “And it will, Mom.”
I stand and survey the room.
“They remember when this used to be a fish house,” I say. “Mr. DeLancey’s father sold goods to my grampa at his grocery. He even came here once, a long time ago.”
“That’s so cool,” Evan says. “I wonder what he will think of all the changes.”
“Me, too,” I say, my voice hushed.
“Want to help me make them an anniversary cake?” I ask.
“Isn’t that an awfully big undertaking?” Evan asks.
“That’s the whole point,” I say.
“But we’ve got a full house this weekend. Did they request it? Was it part of a package you offered?”
“No,” I say. “I just wanted to do something special and nice for them.”
“Nice doesn’t pay the bills,” Evan says.
I shoot him a dirty look. “No, but sometimes being nice is worth more than money,” I say. “Remember what your grampa used to say? Ethics is...”
“...what you do when no one is looking,” Evan says, finishing my thought. “I got it, Mom.”