Patterns of light danced across Margaret’s eyelids as the afternoon sun filtered through the lace curtains of her bedroom, causing her to wake. She had been dreaming of her granddaughter again. A young Lily had pranced around on the old front porch like a little pony, her golden hair soaring behind her as it caught the breeze. But all she had left now were her memories and her good friends.
Margaret propped some pillows behind her and inched her way upright in the old mahogany, four-poster bed. She glanced at the ceramic clock on the nightstand: 3:00 PM. Napping in the afternoon; when had that started? Mary, her housekeeper turned nurse, had been by fussing around her earlier in the day, trying to get Margaret to eat something. But even Mary’s buttery shortbread did not tempt her now. Food was a necessity in order to take the medication the doctor had prescribed for, what he called, comfort and quality of life.
Even into her late seventies, she’d felt energetic and kept the inn thriving. Her last decision, closing the doors to her beloved bed and breakfast, was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. With a low moan of pain, she turned, reached into the antique nightstand, and removed the leather-bound volume: The Guestbook. She stroked the embossed cover and gold leaf lettering: Madrona Island Bed & Breakfast.
Each entry was special to her, each life that crossed her path a gift. A smile broke across the wrinkled surface of her face as she flipped open the book and randomly chose an entry from a young couple who’d lodged in the Rose Suite a few years ago.
Maggie,
We can’t tell you how much our stay has meant to our marriage. Feeling the love here in this dazzling place helped us find the love for each other again. Thank you for all the little details, from the scrumptious cookies to the fresh baby roses and herbal bouquets. We’ll be back.
~Lorna & James
Margaret shivered and tears threatened to surface. It was so hard to say goodbye. Her life had been rich, finding love again late in life and owning this piece of heaven. Was it just this morning John had stopped by to read to her? She flipped through the well-worn Guestbook, savoring the sweet smell of dried lavender lingering between the pages. In the back, where she kept her special keepsakes, was an old photo of Lily.
“What a sweet girl,” whispered Margaret as she gazed at the picture of her only grandchild. Lily had been about nine years old in this one. Her lanky child’s body was draped over the old porch swing, her broad smile facing the camera…Lily’s last visit. Even now it broke Margaret’s heart and anger warmed her cheeks at the wasted time apart.
Silly old woman, she thought, surely by now you have learned to accept the past.
Margaret’s mind drifted back to her son Jerold. She’d been so pleased when he’d married Katherine, and when Lily was born a year later, her heart overflowed. How she’d hoped and prayed he would change when he became a father. In the end, he’d left them all.
She could not go down that “if only” road again. She sighed, long and hard, as her shoulders fell back onto the down pillows. So long ago, so pointless a loss, she mused. Now, more than ever, she knew the only thing that really mattered was being with the ones you love.
Her lawyer and friend, Mike, had delivered the legal papers for her estate today. “Are you