Summer of Second Chances - Andrea Hurst Page 0,135

keeping her in this false palace, barring both entrance and exit.

She ripped off her Dior heels and threw them at the door. “I hate these shoes, this house, this marriage…” The long-held tears shook her body. Every accusation Brad had dismissed as her “overreacting” was finally answered with the truth. Why hadn’t she trusted herself and left long ago? She let the tears flow.

A cool calmness filled her being. She was done here; the certainty of it swept through her body. She rose from the floor and hastened up the spiral staircase to her bedroom. Her red puffy face stared back at her from the mirror. It was streaked with mascara-colored tears from eye to chin. At least she recognized this person.

She yanked off the clingy dress and laid it neatly on the king-size bed. Beside it she draped the Cartier necklace. The imposing diamond wedding ring would be next to go. She stopped abruptly…this she would keep. It was the only thing of real value that Brad might consider ever truly belonging to her.

Bending over the marble sink in the master bath, she rinsed off the tears and ran a comb through her hair. She pulled out her travel case and tossed in a few toiletries. The walk-in closet presented overwhelming options: silk blouses, cashmere sweaters, designer jeans. Lily tossed her favorite comfortable jeans, warm sweaters, a pale pink cotton sweatshirt, and a comfy pair of tennis shoes into a suitcase. She added a jacket, some warm boots, a couple of shirts and left just enough room to fit some of her prize knives on top.

She leaned over her desk and unlocked the side drawer. It was right where she left it a few weeks ago. Grandma Maggie’s will. To my grandaughter, Lily Parkins, it read. Grandma hadn’t even known Lily’s married name, it had been that long. It continued: is the sole heir to the property known as Madrona Island Bed and Breakfast Inn.

There was a note from her Seattle attorney explaining that Maggie had converted the farm into a successful inn, but that it had been closed for the last year due to Maggie’s poor health.

Lily thought about her grandma all alone on the island, sick, lonely. Why hadn’t she visited her, or at least called? She’d let fear keep her from what she wanted too long. Flashbacks of a sparkly woman with a wide smile flooded her mind. She could see herself as a young girl, racing her grandma down the grassy path to splash in the cool waters of the Puget Sound. And the batches and batches of chocolate fudge brownies they’d baked together. Often over the years, Lily wished to be back with her grandmother, sharing the old porch swing, picking warm ripe tomatoes right off the vine, not a care in the world. She had no idea if her grandmother would have been receptive after their estrangement, and if her mother would have felt betrayed.

She placed the will in her purse and took one last look around the room she had slept in with her husband for ten years. Reassured that there was nothing left that mattered, she proceeded down the staircase.

In the kitchen, the aroma of garlic and rosemary lingered, the only pleasant memory of a gourmet dinner interrupted. Trays of food littered the counters, dirty pans and food-caked dishes filled the stainless steel sinks. There would be leftovers for tomorrow, but she would not be here to serve them. That would probably be the only reason she would be missed. She took her Global knives and slid them into a side pocket of the suitcase, then surveyed her collection of pots and pans. “No, too much to carry…they can be replaced later.”

On the brass hooks by the back door hung the various sets of car keys. Brad had taken the Porsche. Remaining on the rack were the keys for the Mercedes sedan and the Honda SUV, used mostly by the housekeeper for running errands. The black sedan was certainly not her style. The Honda would do just fine.

A disparaging laugh erupted as she realized that Brad would have to clean the kitchen on his own. Surely his new eye-candy had no idea how.

She retrieved her wool coat to ward off the cold, locked the door behind her, and ran quickly through the rain toward the garage. Inside, she threw her bags in the back of the SUV, slid into the driver’s seat, and backed out slowly. Lily took one last look