Chapter 39
Three months later
I STAND IN her empty kitchen, taking one last look around.
Gwen and the kids are finishing putting the last of Gram’s things in my van.
Nick trudges up from the basement and I close my eyes.
I know it’s only him walking up the stairs, but I picture her as the door opens in my mind.
I hear her in my soul. “Ready to get to fixin’ that heart? ”
Nick turns off the light and shuts the door behind him.
“Anything left down there?” I ask.
“No. I think we got everything.”
The house sold in a month. I thought of keeping it, but there were too many memories.
Every time I entered through that red door and didn’t hear her voice, my chest ached a little more.
She had a heart attack, but the doctors assured us she died peacefully in her sleep.
It made me feel better to know she didn’t suffer.
She deserved to drift away as peacefully as she lived her life.
I cross my arms and turn once more. I’ve already stood in each room, and the kitchen is my very last. Nick kisses my cheek. He’s been incredible. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve him, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep him in my life.
“Take your time,” he whispers in my ear.
“Just give me another minute. I’ll be right out.” I try my best to smile, to be strong, but he sees through me, just like he always has. He steps outside and I hear Kale call to him as the door shuts behind him.
“It’s so final, Gram,” I say out loud. “You know I have a problem with goodbyes, so I’ll just say, see you soon. I’ll miss you forever. I hope you know you changed me. I hope you know you made me a better me. I hope you know I’ll always love you, wherever you are.”
I push a tear away from my eyes and make my last steps to her door. I pick up the can of red paint and three brushes and close the door behind me.
“Ready?” Gwen asks with a smile.
I nod.
“Kale and Nick went for a walk,” Marlow says as she inches closer.
“You ready to paint?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Why are we doing this again?”
“Well…” I glance up at Gwen and she smiles. “Whenever I felt sad about something, Grandma Kay would sit with me and we would paint this door. Somehow, like magic, painting this door would always make me feel better. Grandma Kay would say, ‘Every stroke is a memory you cherish or you leave behind.’”
“Are we cherishing or leaving?” Marlow asks.
“As Grandma Kay would say, ‘I can’t tell you that, songbird. That’s completely up to you.’”
“Do I get to be the songbird now?” she asks with a small, hopeful smile.
“If you’d like.”
“Yeah, I want to be a songbird just like you.”
I kiss her on the forehead and the three of us paint that door, for the very last time.