Epilogue
FAMILY FORWARD
You’re probably hoping that I’d torn Rory apart as I set my terms in the divorce.
That I’d taken all his money. All the furniture.
His dignity. Sorry to disappoint you, but I did my best to be civil.
We hadn’t completed the divorce yet. We had to live separately for six months before we could sit for our final hearing.
We were close, but not quite there. We’d done everything else though.
Rory would stay in Burlington and start up his law practice again.
He’d found an apartment downtown. We sold the house.
It was too big for him anyway. As far as the divorce terms were concerned, I won full custody of Jasper, and I took half of Rory’s, well, our money.
I could have taken more, but I didn’t want to start my new life from a place of greed.
The day I told Rory I wanted a divorce, I put in an offer on the house I loved on Red Mountain.
Sight unseen. I paid too much, but I didn’t want others to see the listing and jump into a bidding war with me.
I didn’t mind paying the full asking price.
According to the realtor Erica had helped me find, property on Red Mountain was going up quickly, so it was a seller’s market.
Not buying this house would have been spitting in the face of destiny.
I didn’t buy the adjacent piece of property like I’d wanted.
I needed to build the inn first and see how much money would be left over.
If it was meant to be, I’d eventually get it.
Everyone warned me that building something always cost twice as much and took twice as long as projected. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case. This realtor had already recommended a contractor she really liked and trusted. Hopefully, he would take care of me.
On a beautiful spring day in Burlington, Jasper, Philippe, and I climbed into the car to drive west. We still hadn’t seen our new house on Red Mountain, but it already felt like our forever home.
The best part of that day was to see Jasper every bit as excited as I was.
We were leaving all the pain and sadness behind.
The movers had left the day before and would beat us there. Jasper and I planned on taking our time driving. We wanted to see Little Big Horn, Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, the largest ball of twine on earth—and all the other required stops on a road trip west.
We were traveling light, only two suitcases, a cooler, and a bag of snacks in the back. I’d set up the middle seats with layers of blankets for Philippe, and I’d spent a fortune buying him toys, baked goods, and vegetarian bones.
I started the car, shifted into reverse, and looked at my son. “We’ve had some good times in Burlington.”
He put his hand on top of mine. “I’m ready for better times.”
With a promising vision of what was ahead, I said, “Today is one of the most exciting days of my life, Jasper. I couldn’t be more thrilled about the journey ahead, and I would only be doing it with you by my side. There are good things ahead. I just know it.”
“Bring ‘em on.” He held up crossed fingers. “Red Mountain better be cool. I’m trusting you.”
“I’m trusting me too. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll keep going. Nothing will stop us now.”
“You’re a cool mom. I’ll miss my friends, but I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Soon we were on the highway driving west. Chasing a dream.
I hadn’t lost touch with my husband; I’d lost touch with myself. It was I who needed to wake up.
I pushed down the gas pedal, and we rode toward our destiny. I knew we’d be okay. Because we were seizing the world by the tail, and those who do eventually catch their wave.
As we drove over Lake Champlain and crossed into New York, Jasper reached under his seat and pulled out a child-sized keyboard. He hammered out a beautiful version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and I joined him for the chorus.
I sang with him all the way to Red Mountain. Mother and son.
A song and a dream.
With love,
Margot
P.S. Come see me on Red Mountain!