emoji as I mentally count back. I remember Mom’s last year of residency. It was a hard year, and even as a kid I knew it. Dad was teaching at a local college and had a forty-five-minute commute each way. Mom pretty much lived at the hospital. Harrison and I lived with Grandma and Grandpa, and Grandma’s cancer came back. She was sick and required a lot of at-home care…which makes sense why Aunt Estelle would have stepped in to help out.
“Why can’t I remember?” I mumble to myself and let out a breath. My name is called and I go up to the counter to get my coffee, dropping a few dollars into the tip jar. Sipping my latte, I go back outside. It’s a little overcast today, but warm. People are walking up and down the streets, going in and out of the little shops just like I am.
My phone rings when I’m just a few paces from the bookstore, Novel Grounds. I step to the side and answer.
“Hey, Har.”
“Are you in Thorne Hill right now?”
“Oh, right. I did send you a photo.” I take a sip of my latte. “Yeah. I am.”
“Why the fuck are you there?”
I suck in a breath. “Aunt Estelle died.”
Harrison pauses. “Are you at her funeral?”
“No, she was cremated. I think. I haven’t actually seen her ashes and I didn’t think to ask for them. I suppose I should, right? I mean, we’re the only family she has left. Crap, now I feel bad.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Aunt Estelle died, and she left me her house in her will,” I say with a wince. I’ll tell him about the gobs of money later. “I would have told you the other day, but Jenny was there and I didn’t want to bring it up in front of her.”
“You inherited her house?” he echoes.
“Yeah.”
“Good luck with that hunk of junk.”
Maybe the house was in poor condition when we came here as kids. I wouldn’t know—I can’t remember a damn thing. “It’s been updated. Look, I know how weird it is, and I don’t know why Aunt Estelle left me her possessions. Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not. I’m, uh, confused. Like you said, it’s weird as fuck she willed her shit to you.”
“I know. And I’ll be home tomorrow. I just had to fly out here today to get things settled.”
“What are you going to do with the house? If it was updated like you said, you could probably make a decent profit off it.”
“I haven’t gotten there yet,” I tell him, though the thought of selling the house seems blasphemous. “I think the house has been in the family a while. I can’t sell a piece of Fowler family history.”
“Sure,” Harrison quips. “I gotta go. I’m taking another client out to brunch.”
“Look at you, working on a Saturday.”
“I fucking hate it,” he mutters. “I keep hearing talk of a promotion so I put in the work, yet it’s been a year of this fucking bullshit.”
“Maybe it’s time to look for a new job. There are quite a few marketing companies in Syracuse.”
“It’s something to consider. Talk to you later, sis.”
“Bye, Har. Love you.”
I end the call, drop my phone back in my purse, and go into the bookstore. I’m in love as soon as I step foot inside, inhaling deep. The scent of ink and paper calms me the same way the smell of sweet feed and hay does when I go to the barn. I take my time looking through the books, absolutely loving that this bookstore stocks a ton of indie books.
Twenty minutes later, I head up the counter with an armload of romance novels. A pretty blonde woman stands behind the counter.
“Did you find everything all right?” she asks as I accidentally drop a few books onto the countertop.
“Yes,” I say. “I found more than I intended.”
She laughs. “That’s easy to do.”
I try to neatly stack the books and notice several wedding magazines open on the counter next to the register. “Are you getting married? Congrats if you are.”
“No, my best friend is, but I’m still really excited.”
“Oh, fun!”
“I’m mostly excited to plan the bachelorette party,” she says with a laugh and continues ringing up the books. Her fingers sweep over mine when I hand her my credit card, and she looks at me a beat too long. Smiling, she quickly swipes the card and hands it back to me.
“Have fun at the bachelorette party,” I tell her and take my heavy