Chapter 37
Lucy
Istand, frozen, unable to hear anything except my own heartbeat.
Staring back at me from the wall of the bookstore is a gorgeous painting.
I can tell which photo was used for reference, as it was from one of the last times Mama Betty felt well enough to come down to the shop.
One of our regulars offered to take a photo of the whole crew together and it’s that moment that is now hanging on the wall of the bookstore.
I step forward. Quietly. Reverently. I reach my hand up to stroke the elegant gold frame and the lyrics from Taylor Swift’s “marjorie” inscribed around the frame. On a shelf right below it is a notebook. The cover says “Ms. Betty’s Karma” and I gently open the book to see a note.
If you had the pleasure to meet Ms. Betty, the late owner of Karma, please feel free to share any wisdom, lessons, or stories that stick with you. Help us carry on her legacy to those who didn’t get the privilege of knowing her.
I see a teardrop land on the page. It’s at this moment that I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. I close the book and set it gently on the shelf before turning to face my family.
“You did all this?” I say quietly, my voice rough with emotion.
“We love her too,” Bennett says simply.
Love.
Not loved.
At that, I lose any semblance of composure and break into sobs, falling into Jeremy’s arms. I feel another set of arms wend its way around me. Then another. Then another.
In the middle of this outpouring of love, I feel the first trace of hope for healing.
You won’t be forgotten, Mama, I think fiercely. We won’t let that happen.