Page 117 of All of You

“Mom,” I sniffle. “Please. Don’t make me move.”

She pulls through a drive-through and orders us each a coffee before hopping back on the road.

We cross the river and she pulls down a dirt drive that feels familiar. I’m not sure though. I was too busy sulking to pay attention. As she creeps slowly along the rutted dirt road things become clearer. I know this road.

I know this spot.

“What are we doing at the cabin? Dad’s cabin.”

She pulls into the driveway and parks the van before lookingat me and sucking in a deep breath.

“Your father left it to us. Well, to me.”

I gasp.What?

“I had no idea. All this time if I’d just come back, things could have been so different. This isourhouse Delia. Anna and James have been paying the taxes on the property all these years since Daniel passed away. That’s what she needed to talk to me about in January after your meet. It took a while for all the paperwork to get completed and I didn’t want to jinx anything by mentioning it to you earlier.”

“Daniel left the house to you?” I ask, shocked.

Mom nods, tears welling in her eyes. All I can think about is New Year’s Eve with Langdon and if we picked up everything or if Mom is on to us. My leg starts to bounce.

“We have a home. Your dad left us a home.” She grabs my hand.

We have a home. We’ve always had a home. I’m meant to be here.A tidal wave of emotion batters me and within seconds Mom and I are puddle of tears clinging to each other.

I mumble into her chest, “I wish I could have known him.”

“I wish that too.” She pushes my hair away from my face.

“I’m so sorry, babe. So sorry,” she says pleadingly.

I smile at her. “I had you, mom. It was enough.”

“I want to show you something. Come on.” She nods to the door, coffee cup in hand encourages me to do the same.

Wild daffodils cluster at the tree line, sprouting trios of lily of the valley that smell so good it might almosthurt. Mom takes my hand as we travel the crude path to the shoreline through the trees. It’s rather perilous given we each have a steaming paper cup of coffee in our hands and the ground is slick with mud.

“Give me leisurely mornings, sunny days, flowers and cool water. Give metime. Time to putter, time to be bored. Give me walks and views and blue skies. Give me space to grow and dictate my own priorities. I hate the rat race. I loathe the greed of capitalism. I despise the rush and tug and pull of the modern world. And now this…this gift from Daniel. It feels like a gift doesn’t it Delia?” She asks.

I nod and squeeze her hand.

Mum and I sit on the rough log seats at the riverfront that my Dad had set out for us years and years ago—hoping someday we’d come back to him. We’re layered up in sweatshirts and sweatpants with cups of steaming coffee to watch the sun come up.

I’ve never really watched the sun rise. It’s beautiful. I think though, my favorite is sunsets. Every day starts with the beauty of a sunrise and ends in the glory of a sunset. Every single day. We should all pay attention to that more often. See it. Feel it. Know that the day will always begin and end in simple beauty. My heart feels truly full for the first time in a long time.

“But, Mom,” I say, “there’s no water or electricity. There’s only one bedroom. It’s tiny.”

Mom smiles at me then tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “We can have the utilities turned back on and he owns,Iown, a full two acres. There’s plenty of room to build another bedroom. Gramps is all jazzed up for a project and helping out. Plus, kiddo, we’ve lived in tighter quarters. It’s a vast improvement from the van don’t you think?”

I let out the breath I was holding.

“We really do have a home then don’t we.”

She nods and looks back out over the water.

Fifty Nine

Delia