Chapter 20
The plan had come together the night before, around the kitchen table at Beth's farmhouse.
“I hate that I can't be there,” Beth said, Charlotte fussing in her arms while Gabriel walked Alexander in slow circles around the room. “My whole childhood is there. I should be with you all to say goodbye.”
“You just had twins,” Maggie said. “You're not going anywhere.”
“I know, but…”
“No buts. Your body needs to heal. The babies need you here.”
Beth's eyes welled with tears, the hormonal kind that had been ambushing her at random intervals since the delivery. “It's not fair. Everyone else gets to be there. Everyone else gets to go through their old rooms and find their stuff and…”
“What if you came with us anyway?” Lauren said.
Everyone looked at her.
“Not physically,” she clarified, holding up her phone. “FaceTime. We can video call you when we're going through the house. Walk you through every room, show you everything we find. It won't be the same as being there, but at least you'd be part of it.”
“That's actually not a terrible idea,” Sarah said.
“Don't sound so surprised,” Lauren responded
“I'm always surprised when you have good ideas.”
“And I'm always surprised when you're not annoying, and yet here we are.”
Beth laughed through her tears. “You two are ridiculous.”
“We're your sisters. It's our job to be ridiculous.”
Maggie reached across the table and took Beth's hand. “Lauren's right. We'll call you every step of the way. You won't miss anything, I promise.”
“And then,” Gabriel said, pausing his pacing to look at his wife, “maybe for the last night, the final dinner, I could drive you up. Just for a few hours. You and the twins. So you can see the house one more time before it's gone. I just think right now, you need a bit more time resting. It’s only a couple of days more.”
“Would that be okay?” Beth looked at Maggie. “Is that too much?”
“It's perfect,” Maggie said. “It's absolutely perfect. The whole family, together, one last time in that house. That's exactly how it should be.”
Maggie looked across the table to where Emily sat quietly, slightly apart from the others as she always was during intense family moments. She had been listening, her face attentive but unreadable.
“Emily,” Maggie said gently, “you're welcome to come with us tomorrow. To the house. If you'd like to.”
Emily was quiet for a moment, and Maggie could see her processing, considering her words with the careful deliberation that characterized so much of what she did.
“Thank you,” Emily said. “I appreciate that. But I think I should stay here.”
“You don't have to.”
“I want to.” Emily's voice was calm, matter-of-fact.
“That house belongs to all of you. Your memories are there.
Your childhood is there. I wasn't part of that.
I didn't grow up in that house. I didn't learn to ride a bike in that driveway or mark my height on the kitchen doorframe.
I don't have any claim to those memories, and I don't think I should pretend that I do.”
The table went quiet. Lauren and Sarah exchanged glances. Beth shifted Charlotte in her arms.
Emily continued, undeterred by the silence.
“But I would like to watch. With Beth. On FaceTime.” A small smile crossed her face.
“I've spent my whole life not knowing any of you. Not knowing where you came from or what your childhood was like. This is a chance to learn. To see where my siblings grew up, what shaped them. I can observe from here, and I can help Beth with the twins while I do it. That feels right to me. That feels like where I belong.”
Maggie felt her throat tighten. There was something so pure about Emily's honesty, so refreshing about her willingness to name what others might dance around.
“That's very self-aware,” Chelsea said softly.
“I've had a lot of practice,” Emily replied. “When you spend your whole life feeling like you don't quite fit, you learn to figure out where you do fit. And right now, I fit here. With Beth and the babies.” She paused.
Beth reached across the table and touched Emily's hand.
“I'd like that. Having you here with me. We can watch together and you can ask me questions about everything. I'll tell you all the embarrassing stories about Lauren and Sarah, and they won’t be here to defend themselves. This is sounding better by the minute.”
“Hey,” Lauren protested.
“There are so many to choose from,” Beth continued, ignoring her. “Like the time Lauren got her head stuck in the porch railing.”
“I was seven!”
“Or the time Sarah tried to convince Mom she was adopted so she wouldn't have to share a room with Lauren anymore.”
“That was a reasonable strategy,” Sarah said. “Lauren snored.”
“I did not snore.”
“You snored like a freight train.”
Emily smiled, a real smile that reached her eyes. “I think I'm going to enjoy this.”
“You will,” Beth promised. “You definitely will.”
Maggie looked around the table at her family, the daughters she had raised, Daniel’s daughter, who she was still getting to know, the mother who had driven days to be here, the friend who had been by her side through everything.
Tomorrow they would go back to the house where so much had happened, where so much had fallen apart and somehow been rebuilt.
But tonight, they were all here, together, planning for the future instead of drowning in the past.
It felt like progress. It felt like healing.
“Okay,” she said. “So that's the plan. FaceTime for Beth and Emily, everyone else in the RV, and we'll take it one room at a time.”
“One room at a time,” Grandma Sarah agreed. “That's how you eat an elephant.”
“We're not eating an elephant, Mother.”
“It's a metaphor, Maggie. Honestly, I thought I raised you better than this.”
The next morning, Maggie sat in the Garrison Getaway and thought about that conversation as they prepared to leave.
Through the window, she could see Beth on the porch, both babies in a double carrier strapped to Gabriel's chest. Emily stood beside her, and they were already looking at something on Beth's phone—probably setting up for the video calls to come.
“I'm driving,” Grandma Sarah announced, climbing into the driver's seat with the determination of a woman who had not asked for opinions and was not interested in receiving any.
“Mother, we're only going thirty minutes down the road,” Maggie said. “We could take Beth's car.”
“And waste a perfectly good RV? Absolutely not.” Grandma Sarah adjusted the mirrors with practiced efficiency. “Besides, we might need the space. For boxes. For memories. For dramatic emotional breakdowns.”
“I wasn't planning on a dramatic emotional breakdown.”
“No one ever plans them, Maggie. That's what makes them dramatic.”
Chelsea had already claimed the passenger seat and was buckling herself in. “I'm documenting everything today. Photos, videos, the works. For Beth and Emily, but also for posterity. Someday those twins are going to want to know about the house where their mother grew up.”
“That's actually very thoughtful,” Sarah said, climbing into the back.
“I'm a very thoughtful person.”
“Let's not get carried away.”
Lauren squeezed past them and dropped into one of the seats near the back. “I can't believe we're taking the RV to go half an hour down the road. We're going to look ridiculous pulling into the neighborhood.”
“We're going to look like a family who knows how to travel in style,” Grandma Sarah corrected.
“We're going to look like we're moving in, not moving out.”
“Same energy. Different direction.”
Maggie settled into the seat behind Chelsea and took one last look at the farmhouse. Beth raised her phone and waved it, indicating she was ready. Emily lifted her hand in her characteristic small wave—hesitant but present.
“Is everyone in?” Grandma Sarah called. “I want to get there before lunch.”
“It's nine in the morning,” Maggie said. “It's a thirty-minute drive.”
“And I want to get there before lunch. What's your point?”
“My point is—never mind. Yes, everyone's in.”
Grandma Sarah started the engine, and the RV rumbled to life. “Next stop, the past.”
“That's very dramatic for a drive to Andover,” Lauren said.
“I've been working on it. Three days on the road gives you time to think of these things.”
They pulled out of the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires, and Maggie felt something shift in her chest. They were really doing this. After all the planning and postponing and finding reasons to wait, they were finally going back to the Andover house.
The RV lumbered down the farm's long driveway and turned onto the main road. Within minutes, they had left Boxford behind and were winding through the Massachusetts countryside.
“So,” Chelsea said, twisting in her seat to face the others, “what's the game plan? When we get there, I mean. Are we just diving in, or is there a system?”
“Chris and Becca are already there,” Maggie said.
“That makes sense. It's been their home too.”
“Michael said he'd meet us there around eleven. He's driving up from Boston.”
“What about the actual packing?” Lauren asked. “Are we doing it all today?”
Maggie shook her head. “Today is just the beginning. Going through things, deciding what to keep, what to donate, what to throw away. The actual packing and moving will take a few more days.”
“And then what happens to the house?” Sarah asked.
“I’ve given this some thought and I think you should let me handle the sale,” Lauren said.
“It makes sense. I’m not looking for any money here, but I’ve got all the resources you need with my real estate business up here.
I’m going to talk to Nell and Brian and make sure they can be available to help.
I’ll talk to Michael today to have him involved as well.
He’ll most likely be the one present at closing since I’ll be in Sarasota. ”
Maggie’s face lit up. “I was hoping you’d say that. Thank you, honey. I’ll rest easier knowing you have everything under control.”