The morning of the funeral brought with it the first frost. It blanketed every leaf, every blade of grass, in sparkling white. An end of sorts in its own way but bathed in beauty.
Audrey had declined Rowan’s offer of company the night before, so she moved through her morning routine alone. She opted for tea instead of coffee, sipping it at the kitchen table with a piece of toast the way she had on so many visits throughout the years. The way Ernestine probably did herself thousands of times. The way she wouldn’t ever again.
No more holiday dinners. No more afternoon jaunts to wineries where Ernestine made it clear she could drink just about anyone under the table. Audrey allowed herself a few minutes down the rabbit hole of things that would no longer be before straightening her shoulders and heading out to tend the animals, then upstairs to shower and dress. Ernestine wouldn’t wallow, so neither would she.
Rowan knocked on her door at nine on the dot. Audrey had never seen her so dressed up—black suit and a button-down in Ernestine’s favorite shade of lilac. “You look nice.”
Rowan smiled. “I wore this the day we met with the bank to finalize the loan for the cidery. I came by the land after, to imagine what it would become. That was the day I met Ernestine for the first time.”
“Aw.”
“She looked me up and down and I’m pretty sure decided by the looks of me that I wouldn’t last a season.”
Even as she teetered on the verge of tears, she laughed. “That sounds like Ernestine.”
“I was dressed like a farmer the next time I saw her and I couldn’t help myself. I assured her I only wore suits for weddings, funerals, and meetings at the bank.”
“I love that.”
“She told me she figured we could be friends then.”
She’d known, at least intellectually, but it hit her in that moment how much Ernestine meant to Rowan. And how much Rowan meant to Ernestine. “I’m sorry I ever doubted how close the two of you were.”
Rowan visibly swallowed but quickly shook her head. “You were being protective. I would have done the same.”
She tried to summon a vision of Rowan yelling and swearing and came up empty. “Would you really, though?”
That got her to chuckle. “Okay, maybe I wouldn’t have done the exact same, but I would have felt the same if I thought someone was taking advantage.”
“I’ll take it.”
Rowan cleared her throat. “Did I interrupt anything? We don’t need to leave for a few minutes yet.”
“No, I’m ready. And I’d just as soon be early.”
“Yeah.”
Because Ernestine had lived there most of her life and had chosen to be interred at Mount Hope Cemetery, the funeral was held in Rochester. The gathering was a large and varied group. Her parents didn’t make the trip, of course, but dozens of Ernestine’s former students and colleagues did. As did folks from neighboring farms and even Ernestine’s vet. Dylan came, which was sweet. And Rowan never left her side.
The service passed in a haze of laughter and tears. Though she’d been unwilling to face the idea of Ernestine’s death before it happened, Ernestine had given it plenty of thought, even before her stroke. The service was a brief but eclectic mix of prayers and readings—religious and not—under the umbrella of her loosely held Unitarian Universalist faith. The minister’s words included notes from Ernestine—if the cemetery was good enough for Susan B. Anthony and Frederick Douglass, it was good enough for her—and reflections on a full life well lived.
She’d hesitated about holding a luncheon, but was glad she did. Seeing people celebrate Ernestine’s remarkable eighty-six years on the planet, but also connect and catch up with each other, gave her joy. She was pretty sure it would have given Ernestine joy, too.
By the time the last of Ernestine’s friends left, Audrey was exhausted. Still sad, of course. But also, somehow, light.
Rowan, who she’d lost sight of in all the thank-yous and good-byes, appeared at her side. “How are you holding up?”
She took a deep breath. “You know, I’m okay.”
“I know Ernestine had a lot of it sorted out ahead of time, but you did an amazing job today. She’d be pleased.”
“I know it’s a weird thing to say about someone’s funeral, but I wish she could have been here.”
Rowan’s arm came around her shoulders. “It’s not weird at all.”
“She touched so many people.”
Rowan nodded. “Even more than I imagined.”
As much as that gave her joy, the truth of it sat heavy in her chest. “Not to be self-absorbed, but I can’t help thinking about how wan my life feels in comparison.”
She didn’t expect Rowan to be jerky, but the gentleness of her smile had Audrey choking back tears again. “Teachers are a unique breed, for sure. But besides that, you haven’t even lived half your life yet. The best is still to come.”
Was that true? She hoped the part about having more than half her life left was, but what about the best parts? How were the next thirty-some years going to be different from the first? She had no idea.
“And let’s be honest. Few of us can aspire to Ernestine’s level of coolness.”
Like much of the day, she went from practically crying to laughing in a matter of seconds. “True.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t ask yourself those big, hard questions, but maybe go easy on yourself today. The next few days. The rest will keep.”
It would. Ernestine didn’t even start her life on the farm until her retirement. “Yeah.”
“You ready to head home?”
“Would you…” She hesitated. “Would you stay with me at Ernestine’s tonight?”
Rowan didn’t hesitate at all. “Of course.”
She was glad they’d driven together, glad Rowan didn’t even ask before shepherding her into the passenger seat for the ride home. They fell into silence, more welcome reprieve than sadness or discomfort. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked to so many people in one day.
Rowan dropped her off and went home long enough to change clothes. They fed the animals and she warmed up the soup she’d made with the last of the tomatoes. They ate on the sofa with an old Audrey Hepburn movie.
It was barely nine, but she fell asleep on Rowan’s shoulder. Rowan guided her upstairs and waited patiently while she washed her face and brushed her teeth. When they climbed into bed, Rowan simply opened her arms. She curled into the warmth and comfort they promised and shut out everything else.
* * *
Rowan had never been to the reading of a will before. Her only frame of reference was what she’d seen in movies or on TV—warring factions of families sitting in an ornate room while a lawyer read aloud who’d be getting what. She wasn’t sure who those factions would be, especially after Audrey turned out to be the only blood relative at the funeral, but when she and Audrey walked into the attorney’s office and it became apparent it would just be the two of them, she almost laughed. She didn’t, of course, but it helped to break the tension of such a somber process.
The attorney, a rather starchy woman who introduced herself as Ms. Brown, ushered them to a pair of narrow leather armchairs across from her desk and offered them coffee or tea. When she and Audrey both declined, she sat across from them and laced her fingers together. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Clearly a line she used a lot, but it felt genuine. She and Audrey mumbled their thank-yous in unison.
“I had the pleasure of first meeting Ms. Adams just over a decade ago. Her previous attorney relocated to Florida, and she was not impressed with the idea of working with him remotely.” She chuckled politely. “We touched base periodically through the years, and I have to say, she was one of my favorite clients.”
Audrey smiled. “She had that effect on people.”
Ms. Brown nodded. “I’m not surprised. Anyway, Ms. Adams’s will is fairly straightforward. She essentially left everything to the two of you.”
“The two of us?” The bewilderment on Audrey’s face matched the confusion Rowan felt.
“Not collectively. Sorry. I meant the two of you are the only named parties in her will.”
“Ah.” Audrey nodded.
Rowan did, too, but her mind raced ahead. Had Ernestine put their agreement in her will? Relief vied with worry. She’d been saving but had a good five years until she anticipated needing the amount she and Ernestine had agreed to. Would Audrey give her time? Assuming, of course, everything went to Audrey.
“The ten acres that constitute the orchard are to go to you, Ms. Marshall.”
Rowan felt her mouth open and close in complete surprise. She had no idea what she was expecting, but that absolutely wasn’t it. She looked from Audrey to the attorney and back.
“Did you know this was going to happen?” Audrey asked.
Was she imagining it or was there betrayal in Audrey’s voice? In lieu of words, she merely shook her head.
“Really? No idea?”
Audrey didn’t believe her—a fact that set off warning bells—but she was still too floored to pay them much attention. “We never discussed it.”
Audrey’s expression turned stony. “Well, we both know that’s not true.”
The lawyer cleared her throat and Rowan had never been more grateful for an interruption. She physically shifted in her chair, back toward the lawyer and the explanations she wanted but feared she wasn’t going to get. “Are you sure there are no stipulations or payment noted? That’s what she and I discussed.”
“Ms. Adams was very clear. The property was to be divided such that you would receive the land containing the orchard and Ms. Adams would receive everything else. That includes the remaining four acres, the house and barn, the contents therein, and any remaining assets.”
Audrey shook her head, that sort of slow, continuous movement that comes with disbelief. Rowan tried to stifle her joy, at least for the moment. That she owned the land, yes. But even more significant was that Ernestine loved her and trusted her enough to take care of it, that she believed in what Rowan and Dylan were doing.
“Ms. Adams did make provisions for the animals. She set aside five thousand dollars to be donated to Fuzzy Muzzy Farm Sanctuary in exchange for them providing a home and care for any and all animals that survived her.”
It was in that exact moment it hit her Audrey would simply leave. Naive? Absolutely. Illogical? That, too. But Rowan’s heart sank and her stomach turned, almost as much as when she’d learned Ernestine passed away in the first place.
She braved a glance in Audrey’s direction. Her head shake of denial had morphed into the equally slow nod of resignation. Something resembling panic settled in Rowan’s chest, making it difficult for her to breathe.
“You don’t need to do that now, of course. Or ever, if you choose. Ms. Adams simply didn’t want the burden of finding them homes placed on you. She’d seen too many cases of pets dumped at shelters when their elderly owners died and wanted to make sure hers were looked after.”
“Of course.” Audrey nodded slowly.
The attorney went through the logistics of probate, how and when things would officially transfer ownership. An overview of tax implications. Audrey seemed more stilted than when they’d arrived. Sad still, but something more. Was she mad that Ernestine had left her the orchard? It was hard to imagine Audrey wanting it, but it was hard to imagine a lot of what had happened in the last few months, much less what would follow.
They rode home in silence. Only it wasn’t the shared, reflective quiet after the funeral. No, Rowan got the distinct impression Audrey’s silence came from stewing. As much as she didn’t want to ask—didn’t want to know—she needed to. In Ernestine’s driveway, she put Audrey’s car in park. “You seem really upset. Do you want to talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about? You got what you wanted all along and I got everything else.”
Even as the rational part of her mind knew Audrey was reeling with grief, she flinched at the accusation. “Audrey.”
Audrey lifted her chin, showing no signs of backing down. “It’s true, isn’t it? You got your land. It’s what you were angling for from the beginning. Sure, you’ll miss Ernestine. But she wasn’t your family. She was mine.”
“She felt like family. That might not mean anything to you, but it means something to me. You feel like family, too.” It was the closest she’d come to saying I love you, to admitting she wanted Audrey in her life in all the big ways and for a very long time. Not how she wanted to express that, but none of this was going how she wanted.
Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—the underlying meaning didn’t seem to register with Audrey. She merely shook her head. “You like having me around. I’m an easy neighbor and fun to fuck.”
Audrey was insulting herself as much as Rowan, but it registered in Rowan’s gut like a sucker punch.
“I’m sorry,” Audrey said.
“Uh.” The abrupt shift might have helped, but the lack of context left her reeling almost as much as the attack.
“I’m being a bitch. Just like before.” Audrey closed her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t listen to me.”
“I know you’re hurting. I’m not saying it’s great to lash out, but I get it.”
Audrey looked at her but continued shaking her head. “I know you think you do, and I appreciate you trying to be nice, but you really, really don’t.”
Every instinct told her to shift into self-protection mode. But those same instincts told her she was on the verge of losing Audrey completely. “Try me.”
“I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”
She also knew better than to force it. “Okay.”
“I really am sorry. I just need to be alone for a while.”
She handed Audrey her keys. “Well, you know where to find me.”
Audrey nodded but got out of the car without another word and disappeared into the house.