Chapter 5
Sylvia had called Dr. Tellis and Rhonda the day her mom died, as had been requested. They arrived that afternoon, both carrying large manila envelopes filled with documents and letters her mom had asked them to deliver after her death.
Now, the open letters from Rhonda and Dr. Tellis sat on Sylvie’s desk, crumpled from the countless times she had read them in the last three days.
She yawned as she read through the letter from Rhonda again, for what felt like the hundredth time.
She had almost memorized it by now. Rhonda was a good therapist and didn’t reveal anything she didn’t have express permission to say.
In fact, the top of the letter had a handwritten and signed disclaimer from her mom, stating that she was giving Rhonda permission to disclose information as she saw fit.
Nevertheless, the words were beginning to imprint themselves on the back of her eyelids. She realized that she still didn’t understand her mom’s decisions any more than she had when she was first told.
Inside the envelope were two smaller ones, each with her first name written in the looping handwriting she knew all too well. The first envelope was otherwise plain, but the second had a line in parentheses beneath her name.
Sylvia (for when you’re ready)
She struggled to open the first one, but knowing her mom likely included important details about the inheritance, she forced herself to read the message.
The second was tucked inside the locked drawer of her desk.
Every time her mind drifted to that second letter, she would pause whatever she was doing and stare at the locked drawer. How was she supposed to know when she was ready? What if it was important, no matter whether she was ready or not? What if her mom’s idea of ready was different from hers?
A knock on the door pulled her out of her contemplation.
“Come in!”
The door swung open to reveal a walking mountain of lilies in the doorway, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Lilies?”
“Lilly with lilies, yes,” her niece said from behind the extravagant arrangement. “I’m not sure where to put these.”
“Oh, um…just with the rest,” Sylvie said offhandedly. “Wow. I never thought there could be too many flowers in a lobby.”
The mountain of lilies didn’t move or say anything.
“Is that okay?” she asked.
“Well, not really,” Lilly replied. “There isn’t any more room on the table.”
“How?” Sylvie asked, standing and beginning to walk across the room before stopping to put the letter from her mom in her pocket. “That’s an eight-person dining table in there!”
The mass of flowers retreated into the hallway, revealing her niece.
“Well, apparently, one person takes up the same amount of room as about two and a half flower arrangements—we’ve also run out of vases.”
“We cannot possibly have—wait, two and a half per person? How many people have sent us flowers?”
She didn’t hear Lilly’s answer because, as she entered the lobby, she saw Juliette standing next to the entryway table. It was covered with so many arrangements that she couldn’t see the surface of the table at all anymore.
“These are not from me,” Juliette said quickly, holding out a large vase filled with white carnations and pink roses. “I just found them outside.”
Looking around the room, Sylvie couldn’t see a single surface that didn’t have flowers on it. She shook her head. “Right. Okay…um, can we—”
A loud scraping sound from her left made her wince. They all turned to look at Fiona, doing her best to drag a table through a doorway that was slightly too small.
“Well, don’t just stare. Either help or don’t!” her sister-in-law snapped.
With a deep breath, Sylvie nodded and stepped toward Fiona, doing her best to ignore the annoyed expression on her face, as if asking, why you? Silently, Sylvie replied, Because everyone else has their hands full, idiot.
They managed to wriggle the table free, leaving small scuffs on the paint. She saw Fiona notice them and flare her nostrils as if daring Sylvie to say something. Honestly, though, she didn’t care. There were so many other things to care about right now.
Well, if she were honest, she didn’t really care about those things, either. She needed to have this conversation with Fiona, and for that, she needed Juliette to go.
“Thanks,” she said to Fiona before turning to Juliette. “Good thinking. Jules, do you…?” Ignoring both Fiona’s brief look of surprise and Juliette’s pointed eye-roll at Fiona, Sylvie glanced at the front door.
“Oh, it’s nothing important,” Juliette said, placing the flowers on the new side table. “Just bringing supplies.”
“Supplies?” Sylvie asked, heading toward the front door with Juliette.
“Freezer-friendly, reheat-able, and vaguely nutritional meals for about three days,” Juliette said. “Already in the freezer. And before you ask—no, I didn’t cook them. You don’t have to worry. I got them from the diner.”
They laughed at their inside joke. Juliette prided herself on being the perfect wife and mother—except she had never been able to cook and had zero interest in learning. Luckily, her husband was more than capable of keeping them fed.
“From the diner? That couldn’t have been cheap,” Sylvie said, concerned that her friend was spending money she didn’t necessarily have.
Juliette was already shaking her head. “I told you not to worry. You know how much Shelly Baker loved your mom. I don’t think I could’ve left there with less food than I did.
I’m still expecting to turn around and see her holding a tray of cake.
The woman tried to give me three pies! I do have a box of things for you as well, though. ”
“What? No, you’ve done so much,” Sylvie protested—only to go silent when she saw what Juliette was pointing to.
A large cardboard box sat on the porch. Inside were six plain glass vases and three rolls of stickers in different colors.
“Vases and…stationery?”
“These vases have a yellow dot on each of them, which means I don’t care when I get them back.
I’ve given Lilly the roll of green dots; they’re for all the vases you’re using from the inn, as well as the ones that were delivered with the flowers.
I put red stickers on the plates of cookies from Mrs. Dallwan because she’ll want those back pretty soon, and I don’t want her coming around here and complaining to you.
So, I’ll grab them whenever I’m here next and return them. ”
Sylvie’s eyes stung, but she didn’t want to cry. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
“I know,” Juliette said with a wide grin. “It’s a gift.”
They shared a long hug before saying goodbye. As Juliette jokingly reminded her to get some sleep, Sylvie grabbed a few vases and headed back inside.
“Fiona,” she started as she approached the table where Lilly was carefully putting green stickers on the bottom of each vase. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Her sister-in-law sighed, turning to face Sylvie with her arms already crossed tightly across her chest. “Sure. What is it?”
“Um…in my office, maybe?” Sylvie suggested.
The only response from Fiona was an eye roll before she turned to head up the hallway. Even for Fiona, this was outright hostility. Usually, there was at least a thin veil of civility, though maybe that had been for Annette’s sake.
“So, what do you want to hide from Lilly?” Fiona asked the moment she was inside the office.
“Nothing!” Sylvie exclaimed. “I just wanted to talk to you first!”
“Why? Why couldn’t you talk to me in front of Lilly?” Fiona’s voice was already growing louder, and Sylvie wasn’t sure she could handle a full-volume screaming match.
She took a deep breath to keep her voice calm and even. “Because, if I didn’t give you a heads-up about this, you would be pissed at me—rightly, might I add.”
Scoffing, Fiona took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Sylvie’s desk. “Since when do you care if I’m pissed at you?”
“It’s also the right thing to do. And regardless of what you think of me, I do try to do the right thing.” Running her fingers through her hair, she realized she desperately needed to wash it. It felt like it had been way too long.
Fiona stared at her in confusion. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I mean, no, obviously. I just…” She shook her head, trying to find the right words to use. “I don’t know. Listen, I don’t have all the details yet. The lawyers are coming in a few days, but Mom—”
“Let me guess. She left everything to you because I’m not family?” Fiona regarded her with a pinched expression.
“No! Wait—is that seriously what’s been eating you since…?”
Fiona shrugged. “I don’t know what I expected. I know I’m not family. I thought she’d leave something to Lilly, though.”
Watching in shock, Sylvie’s jaw went slack as Fiona’s eyes welled with tears.
“I don’t know what financial decisions Mom made.
But she did tell me one thing that…is a bit complicated.
She says there are letters with the lawyers for each of us, but she gave me this one in advance.
It basically says that she wants me to have the inn—but unless I do certain things, it’ll go to Lilly. ”
“The inn? This place?” Fiona’s eyes widened, clearly surprised. “But how? She’s not old enough. And your mom wouldn’t make you sell it, surely? And why is Lilly the punishment for you not doing whatever she wanted you to do? If you do complete these things, does that mean Lilly gets nothing, then?”
The idea of buying them out hadn’t even crossed her mind, and she kind of wished it hadn’t—because now, all she could think about was how she couldn’t afford to do that, even if she wanted to.
“Uh, I don’t know,” she said slowly. “But apparently, it will all be explained by her lawyers in a few days.”
“What even—”
“I do not know, Fiona,” Sylvie snapped. “I don’t know, okay?
I found out about this less than a week ago.
She called me in, sat me down, announced that not only was she dying but she was pretty sure she was about to die soon, and told me that this place would go to Lilly unless I ‘played ball.’ So, honestly, I know about as much as you do right now. ”
Fiona stared at her like she had never seen Sylvie yell before, which was not true. They had yelled at each other plenty over the years. But maybe not quite like this.
The two women sat in silence for what seemed like forever.
“Wow,” Fiona said finally. “That…that’s really rough. I’m sorry she did that to you.”
What? Sylvie looked over at her sister-in-law. “I know you’re not about to insult my mother’s character right now.”
“No! Not at all,” Fiona rushed to say. “I just mean, I’m sorry that’s how you found out about any of this. There’s no easy way to learn that, but some ways sure are harder than others.”
Pressing her lips together, Sylvie shrugged. “Yeah, I guess they are.”
Her phone buzzed loudly on the desk, and a picture message preview flashed on the screen—another three bouquets were on the porch.
“I suppose I’ll go and fetch those for you,” Fiona snipped.
Before Sylvie could say thank you, the woman was gone. She let out a long sigh and pressed the heels of her palms against her face, yawning and muttering to herself.
“I swear, one more bunch of flowers and I think I’ll scream.”