Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
W hen Monday morning came, Pamela sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap. The two suitcases at her feet, meticulously packed, seemed small for a lifetime. A soft breeze drifted through the open window. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to look around the room she had slept in for decades. It was too much—too much to think about what she was leaving behind, too much to imagine not waking up here again.
She heard Romy’s soft footsteps in the hallway before her niece appeared in the doorway. Romy’s eyes went straight to the suitcases, and she hesitated, leaning against the doorframe.
“Are you ready?” Romy asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to keep it steady.
Pamela gave her a small smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Romy stepped inside, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You don’t have to do this. We can figure something out. We can get a nurse. There’s got to be another way.”
Pamela’s smile softened, and she reached for Romy’s hand, pulling her to sit beside her on the bed. “We’ve had this conversation, sweetheart. This is the best way forward. For both of us.”
Romy’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked down at their joined hands. “This isn’t fair. You shouldn’t have to go through this. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve always put everyone else first. You’ve been selfless. You deserve better…more.”
As hard as she tried not to cry, a tear fell. “I’m going to miss you so much. The house won’t be the same without you.”
Pamela squeezed her hand. “None of us knows what the future holds. We just do the best we can with what we’re given. Of course it’s not fair, but I’ve had a good life and have no regrets.”
Pamela looked around her bedroom. “This is your house now. And I know you’ll make it into something wonderful. This place has been in our family for nearly a century. It’s seen so much love, so much history. And now it’s your turn to add to that story.”
Romy shook her head, wiping at her cheeks. “I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
Pamela’s voice wavered as she spoke. “I’m not saying goodbye. You’ll visit, and we’ll still talk. In time, when my health gets worse, you’ll know when to stop visiting. I know you think you have to come see me all the time. I don’t want that for you. I’ll be taken care of so you don’t have to worry about that. Do what you have to for yourself.”
Romy stood and looked out the window toward the sea. “I remember the time you took me out in the kayak. I thought we were going to drown. You were so steady, so calm. The way you talked to me helped me relax and finally I came to love paddling over the waves.” She turned to look at Pamela. “You’ve been that anchor for me my whole life.”
Pamela smiled. “You don’t need an anchor anymore, honey. But, in those moments, when you feel like you do, you can remember that day again and you’ll gain strength to get through anything.” She looked around the room. “This house… it’s filled with memories I won’t be able to hold on to much longer. I can’t let myself get lost in what I’m leaving behind. It won’t do either of us any good.”
Romy nodded, but her tears didn’t stop. She paced the room as though moving would keep her emotions at bay. “You’ve lived here your whole life. How do you just…leave?”
Pamela’s gaze drifted to the window. “By remembering that the house isn’t what made my life here. It was the people. The laughter, the love. Those memories are already slipping away, but I know they’ll stay with you. And that’s enough for me.”
Romy turned back to her, her arms dropping to her sides. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
Pamela stood, reaching for Romy’s shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug. “I know, honey. I know. But I need you to trust me on this. It’s what I need, even if it’s hard.”
Romy clung to her, the weight of the moment pressing down on them both. When they finally pulled apart, Pamela wiped a tear from Romy’s cheek and offered a brave smile.
“Now, let’s get going before I change my mind,” Pamela said with a lightness she didn’t feel.
The drive to Harbor Haven Memory Care Center was quiet. Pamela stared out the window, watching the familiar landscape of Periwinkle Shores give way to Rte. 6 traffic and bustling shops. Romy gripped the steering wheel tightly, her jaw set as though holding back the torrent of emotions threatening to break free.
When they arrived, the sight of the white-clapboard building with its neatly trimmed hedges hit Romy harder than she’d expected. She turned off the car and sat in silence for a moment, her hands still on the wheel.
“Last chance to turn this car around and head back home. Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Pamela smiled and reached over, resting a hand on her arm. “I’m sure. Come on, let’s go in.”
They unloaded the suitcases from the trunk, and Romy followed Pamela up the front steps. Carol Dawson was waiting for them just inside, her warm smile a small comfort in the otherwise sterile lobby.
“Pamela, welcome back,” Carol said. She turned to Romy, her smile softening. “You must be Romy. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Romy managed a small nod. “Hi.”
“I’m sure you have a million questions, the first being whether this is the right place for your aunt. You needn’t worry about that. I promise you, we’ll take good care of her here,” Carol assured her. “Let’s get her settled in.”
The room was just as it looked in the brochure. The sunlight streaming through the window made it feel less clinical, though the stark white walls and simple furniture were a far cry from the warmth of home. Pamela set her suitcases by the bed and turned to Romy, who lingered in the doorway.
“You can come in,” Pamela said.
Romy stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room. “It…it’s nice.”
Pamela smiled and bounced slightly on the bed. “It will do just fine.”
Carol excused herself to give them a moment, and Pamela moved over, patting the spot beside her. Romy hesitated before sitting down, her shoulders slumping.
“I don’t want to leave you here,” Romy said, her voice breaking.
“I know,” Pamela said softly. “But this is where I need to be now. And you need to be out there, living your life. You should have Carol walk you around to see the place.”
Romy shook her head, tears spilling over. “It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel fair. We haven’t had time. I just got back.”
Pamela cupped her niece’s face, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. But it can still be beautiful. You have so much ahead of you. Don’t let my journey hold you back.”
They sat in silence for a while, the weight of their shared grief filling the room. When Carol returned to check on them, Pamela stood and hugged Romy one last time.
“You’ll be okay,” Pamela whispered. “And so will I. Now, you have to go. If you have questions for Carol, then the two of you can go into her office and talk or you can let her take you around the facility. Either way, you have to go now.”
Romy felt the sting of her aunt’s words. You have to go now.
Her heart breaking, she let Pamela walk her to the door of her bedroom. Carol Dawson returned and joined Romy at the door.
“Do you have any questions for me?” she asked Romy.
Romy nodded. “Can I come to visit my aunt whenever I want or do I have to call ahead?”
Carol smiled. “No need to call, come whenever you wish.”
Romy looked back at Pamela, who nodded. “Go on, now. I’ll see you next time.”
Romy left the facility with a heavy heart, the empty passenger seat beside her a painful reminder of the change that had just taken place. But as she drove back to Periwinkle Shores, she thought of Pamela’s words. She thought of the house and the history it held, and for the first time, she began to imagine what her future there might look like.
The familiar streets of Periwinkle Shores seemed different now, tinged with a melancholy Romy knew was coming. As she turned onto Ocean Avenue, the late afternoon sun made it difficult to see but the car knew the way up to Cliff Road.
As she reached the house, the sun no longer blinding her, she could see the Japanese Rose plants Pamela had tended for so many years. They swayed gently in the breeze.
She parked in the driveway and sat there for a moment, letting the engine idle before turning it off. The silence that followed felt heavier than usual. Through the windshield, she could see the kayak still mounted on its rack along the side of the house—the same one from that day years ago when Pamela had taught her to brave the waves.
She couldn’t believe all that had happened since she’d come back to Periwinkle Shores. When she had no idea her aunt was planning to leave Cliff Road for good. Thinking back several months to her phone conversation with Pamela, Romy understood things more clearly now. Her aunt seemed so excited that she was returning home. But Romy never said she would stay in Periwinkle Shores for long. In fact, she had thought the opposite. All she wanted was a place to rest and regroup, hoping to gain the strength she needed to move forward. She didn’t know where she would end up, but Periwinkle Shores was not on her list of possible places to settle.
Now, everything had changed. In a heartbeat, her life’s trajectory moved in a direction she never saw coming.
What was she going to do with the house? How could she ever leave it now?
As she walked up to the front door, her hand trembled slightly with the key. Inside, the house held its breath, waiting. Pamela's favorite teacup still sat on the side table next to her favorite armchair. A half-finished crossword puzzle sat beside it, her neat handwriting filling in most of the squares.
Romy moved through the rooms slowly, touching familiar surfaces, until she found herself in her aunt’s room. Small paper notes filled every surface.
My attorney’s name is James Barrett.
My sister’s name is Kirsten. Kirsten died in a plane crash on June 2, 2009.
My brother-in-law’s name is Mark and he was the pilot. He died too.
Romy Kingsbury is my niece. She lives with me.
My medicine is in the cabinet next to the sink.
One by one Romy pulled the sticky notes off and placed them in the trash.
Romy had no idea how long her aunt had pretended her memory was fine. Pamela had never let her into her bedroom, but Romy was certain it was because her aunt couldn’t let Romy know about her condition until she was ready to explain everything to her.
She walked to the kitchen. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, illuminating the collection of beach glass arranged on the windowsill—pieces her aunt had gathered over countless walks along the shore. Each fragment held a memory: the day she found the rare red piece, the morning after the storm when the beach was littered with sea-smoothed treasures, the time she stayed out so long she had to use her phone flashlight to find her way home.
She picked up a piece of blue glass, worn smooth by the sea, and held it up to the light. Pamela's words echoed in her mind: "This place has seen so much love, so much history. And now it's your turn to add to that story."
Romy slipped the glass into her pocket and walked to the front door, stepping out onto the path leading to the dunes. The sea stretched before her, constant and changing all at once, just like life itself. She could almost hear Pamela's steady voice from that day in the kayak: "Just breathe, honey. Feel the rhythm of the waves. You're stronger than you think."
Taking a deep breath of salt air, Romy felt something shift inside her—not an ending of grief, but the beginning of understanding. The house wasn't empty; it was full of stories waiting to be continued. And while Pamela might not remember them all anymore, Romy would. She would remember for both of them.