“Yes. I got your letter. Thank you for writing to me.”
“Oh, I’ve missed you. So much. Oh my God, thank you for all of those letters. I’ve read them every day. I’m blabbering. Sorry. I’m just so nervous. And happy. Hi,” she practically sings that last word.
My soul sighs in relief. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but she sounds good. The knot of dread that’s been eating away at me starts to loosen.
“Hi. And I miss you, too. I’ve been really worried, Regan.”
Her sigh is too weary, and I hate that I can’t see her. “It’s been a rough few months, as I’m sure you know. But, I’m so glad I know the truth.”
I don’t know which truth she means, so I focus on the one that is at least somewhat my business. “You and Hayes…you’re…related.” I use the most sterile word I can manage.
There’s a pregnant pause before she clears her throat. “Yeah…I guess. I can’t wrap my head around that part, if I’m honest. I’ve been more focused on the other dumpster fire.”
“Your grandfather…I heard, so what’s happening?”
“Nothing, he’s dead. Any accomplices he had are, too. I just…I feel like I need to find a way to make things right.”
“Make what right?”
“Everything, my father wasn’t the only person he hurt. But…I don’t want to talk about the past – not now. I want to know how you are. How was the refugee camp?”
I love that she remembered and that makes talking about it less burdensome. “It was hard, and I was so ready to leave. But I signed up for an extra month because they need so much help.”
“And because you love a challenge,” she teases
“That I do.” And I love you, too. The thought comes unbidden. And I’m glad we’re not on FaceTime, so she can’t see the panic that freezes my face for a second.
“I’m so glad you’re making the most of your time there… and I’m learning to love challenges again, too…” she trails off.
“Don’t be cryptic, Regan,” I scold.
“Don’t be impatient, Stone,” she shoots back. And we laugh at the same time. Just like that, our grooves click into place and that knot is finally loose again.
“Okay, I had an idea, and at first, I thought it was crazy… but it’s actually happening.”
“Spill it, Goddess,”
She squeals. “Okay, okay. Last week, I took a large chunk of my inheritance and bought a property in West Houston that used to be a boarding school. And I’m going to turn it into a transitional housing space, with a community center, and courses, and counseling, and even, eventually, a fully functioning outpatient clinic on sight. And guess what?” She gasps, breathless with giddiness, but doesn’t pause long enough for me to speak. “I’m going to call it Venus Rising. After the goddess who inspired me so much.” She sounds like a game show host announcing that I won the grand prize.
I certainly feel like I’ve won something. “Regan. That’s incredible, I’m so proud of you.”
She lets out a shuddering breath. “Thank you for the inspiration. And I can’t wait to show you everything. It all needs updating, and I’m having three newly constructed buildings added to the property.”
“So, are you and Marcel funding it completely? Or are you raising money?” It’s a sly move to get the information that’s foremost on my mind. If she can sense that I’m fishing, she doesn’t call me out for it.
“There is no Marcel and me And soon not in any sense at all. I… met with my lawyer a couple of days ago.” She says the words in a rush and I hear them before they sink in.
“Oh…so, like a divorce lawyer?” I’m almost afraid to ask and hold my breath when she takes a second to answer.
She laughs softly. “Yes. A divorce lawyer. Like you said, no reason to stay is a good reason to go. My children are the only reason I’ve been holding it together and I don’t think, no I know that it’s not what’s best for them anymore. So, I’m doing it.”
“Wow, are you okay?”
“I’m great.” And she sounds it. Relief and motivation are twin fires lighting in my mind at the same time.
“Yes. Of course, you are. So, what next?” I rub my hands together in anticipation.
“Well…I’ve got to get my finances in order so I can figure out how to pay for my project.” Her emphasis on the last word is