Page 53 of Seven Summers Ago
Charlie’s lower lip sticks out and I hold my breath. A small part of me is hoping she’s about to throw a fit over this. Okay, maybe not a small part—a big part. Because if she wants to stay, it might sway Rosie’s decision to stay too.
“I don’t wanna go back. I wanna live here. Daddy is here. The beach is here. I can go to a new school. And West can come here.”
Wait. No. That’s not what I had in mind, kid.
Tears well in her eyes but Rosie is used to this. She’s good at it too. “You know what? We still have a few more days here, at Dottie’s, with Daddy…” She pauses, her gaze flickering to me then back to Charlie, because that’s the first time she’s referred to me asDaddy. “And then, we’re going to all talk about things and make a plan. About all of it. Okay?” She brushes a single tear off her little cheek.
Charlie nods and a little smile pulls at her lips.
“Now go sit with your daddy on the couch and share your snacks with him. He loves snacks, just like you.”
“Okay, Mama. Bye.” She rushes back to me and tugs my arm, so I join her on the couch.
Rosie is a good mom. I always knew she would be.
The rigid exterior that’s grown around my heart softens a little more. She’s the reason it’s there to begin with; I suppose it would make sense for her to be the only one to wear it down.
17
ROSIE
As I leave the meeting with Dottie’s lawyer, the pain radiating in my legs and my back is nearly unbearable. But it does distract me from what I learned at the will reading. Beck had been right. Grandma Dottie left me her cottage. And she wanted me and Charlie to move to Golden Harbor and live in it.
My phone chimes and panic rises in my chest until I see Stella’s name on the screen. I hold it in my grip and wait to respond. I slide in behind the steering wheel of Dottie’s Mini Cooper and toss my bag onto the passenger seat.
The flower-shaped air freshener, the half-drunk water bottle rolling around on the floorboard, the cross hanging from the rearview mirror—they’re all pieces of Dottie. Driving her car makes me feel closer to her, but it also hurts. How could I possibly live in her house and not be sad and reminded of her every single day.
The ache in my chest moves in tandem with the constant stabbing in my thighs. It’s cruel to feel pain of the body and the heart at the same time. Not that I haven’t grown accustomed toit. The pain in my life has been a perpetual tug of war. I find myself contemplating which is going to take me out first. Pain in my heart or the physical pain of this chronic illness.
Resisting the tears building in my eyes is pointless. I let them unleash at their will. The anguish swells in my throat and I have a difficult time swallowing while the sobs break free.
I tell myself I’ll allow five minutes of release before I rein it back in and drive to Dottie’s to face both Charlie and Beck.
Beck.
How do I explain to him that Dottie has left me the house, but I don’t think I can stay? Can I? There’s no way West would ever consider moving to Golden Harbor with us. And we couldn’t possibly do long distance. That’s not the kind of family life I want for Charlie. I want to finally give her stability.
My phone chimes again.
Stella
Well??
She left me the cottage
And her ashes
Stella
Whoa. Sort of like good news bad news
I guess you could say that
Stella
Did she give specifics on what she wanted you to do with the cottage?
Yep. She wanted me and Charlie to move back here and live in it
