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“Why would you even consider going to Montana?” Cynthia Paulson Norcross asked in the tone she’d cultivated over decades as the wife of a Boston Brahmin.
“Because, Mother,” Kelly patiently explained once again, “if I don’t go, I can’t get any money if I sell it.”
“Did John leave you that poorly off?” Kelly could almost hear the slight arch of her mother’s brow in her voice. “I had thought more highly of him than that. The Richards weren’t quite upper crust, but they do seem to do the right thing.”
For a woman raised in the backwoods of a rural state, Cynthia could be a terrible snob.
“No, but it’s my inheritance from Grandma. I should at least go see what it is and to pay my respects.”
“Pay your respects to what? The lake? I don’t understand why people want to be scattered everywhere these days instead of being memorialized under a good solid headstone.”
Kelly stifled a laugh.
“Don’t you remember what it was like?” her mother continued. “There is absolutely nothing to do. Your grandmother always had these strange people milling about. They were either fixing things or attending some kind of art workshop—not that I ever saw them do anything. The only sign of civilization is an hour away. Thank goodness I got a car early and worked at that nice lodge. I learned so much there. That’s when I decided to really apply myself to school. I got a full scholarship to Wellesley, and then I met your father, and it was perfect.”
That was one thing about Cynthia: she had set her ambitions, achieved them, and was fully satisfied with the result.
“Why don’t you forget all about it,” her mother continued. “Let the place go and come home to Boston. It’s time you left the actors and surf bums behind anyway. Peter’s here. I’m sure Lisa could be persuaded to join us. You can get back into dating shape. There are plenty of widowers and divorced men out there who could provide you the life you deserve.”
“I can’t leave here, and Lisa has her own life.”
“Why?”
“I have a job. And friends.” Well, really only one friend, but her mother didn’t need to know that.
“You’ll make new friends here. You could look up some of the girls you knew in high school. I’m sure they’d find enough to keep you busy. There are things that need to be done, you know. You could apply for a seat on one of the musical advisory committees. With your background, they’d pick you up right away. Think of the people you’ll meet and the events you’ll be able to attend.”
“I’m not coming back to Boston,” Kelly said flatly.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I really do want the best for you, sweetheart.”
The thing was, her mother did love her. It was just that Cynthia’s version of “the best” came nowhere near Kelly’s own.
“Love you, Mom,” Kelly said.
“Love you too. If you change your mind, your room is ready.”
“Thanks.”
After a few more exchanges, Kelly disconnected the call, finished her breakfast, and went back to the garage. Her mother and in-laws were nice enough people, but she always had to watch everything she did or said lest she did or said it wrong.
But all that was in the past, along with the mountain of junk she was facing. That’s where she should leave her grandmother’s estate, too. In the past. What was the point of dredging up old memories that probably had no connection to the current reality?
By the end of the day, she’d made some good progress, although there wouldn’t be space for the car for at least a month.
After she’d cleaned up, she poured herself a glass of wine, retreated to the pool area, and called her daughter.
“I just left,” Lisa said with a chuckle. “You can’t be lonely already.”
“Anytime you want to come back is fine by me. How are things going?”
“As good as they can. I just got home from work, and it’s an hour before Andrew gets home and cocktails are mandatory.”
“Sounds like my mother’s house.”
“Oh dear,” Lisa said. “Am I going backward?”
“No, honey. It’s all about what you want.” Kelly wished her daughter were within reach for a large hug. “So, I’ve been cleaning out the garage.”
“That’s crazy, Mom. You should wait until one of us is home to help!”
“I’m still capable of moving things,” Kelly joshed. “You can cancel the room at assisted living.”
Lisa laughed. “Mom, are you that bored?”
She was, but she wasn’t about to admit that to her daughter.
“I’ve got lots to do. That’s not why I’m calling you. You know about things like Craigslist and eBay, don’t you?”
“Somewhat. I’m not an expert.”
“If I sent you pictures, could you post some things so I can get rid of them?”
“As long as it’s not something of mine.”
“Nope. Most of this stuff is old,” Kelly said.
“Then I definitely don’t want it. Sure, send them along.”
Good, one less thing for her to handle.
“Have you thought more about Italy?” Lisa asked.
“I’m not going to Italy,” Kelly said firmly.
“Oh.”
“I might go to Montana, though.”
“Why?”
Kelly told her daughter the story about the letter and her grandmother’s requirements.
“A treasure hunt!” her daughter exclaimed.
“It’s a nightmare,” Kelly said. “The property is big, and who knows what she has after all this time. The attorney said her memory was fading. Who knows—he may have left it in the freezer.”
“You’ll find it, Mom. I’m sure.”
“Well, I haven’t decided to go yet.” Getting too warm, Kelly rose from the chair and sat on the top step of the pool. Better.
“Oh, you totally should. You need to get out of California. Shake it up. Get your mojo back!”
Kelly laughed. “Have you been talking to your grandmother? She said the same thing, only in a more gentrified Boston way.”
“If the shoe fits...” Lisa answered, her tone too serious for Kelly’s liking.
Was she really turning into an old maid at the age of forty-four? Her life had been rewarding so far; there was nothing that made her happier or more satisfied than seeing a smile on her child’s face, feeling the loving touch of her husband, or seeing the eyes of a student light up when they finally nailed a difficult musical passage.
But what happened next?
“Earth to Mom. I’ve got to go. Seriously. Go to Montana. Find Nana’s note. She must have wanted to say something important if she wanted you to read it.”
“I’ll think about it” was the best commitment Kelly could make.
HER CONVERSATION WITH Gail went in a similar direction. She, too, thought Kelly should head north. Right before they’d quit the call, Gail had added the final zinger: “What are you afraid of finding?”
Why was she dragging her feet? She had the time and the money. She was healthy with no major commitments. But still she hesitated. Was she ready to step out of the routine she’d established? The one that had kept her stable since John’s unexpected death?
The questions were piling up, and she kept shoving them in a corner. Eventually, she’d have to face them. Denial, avoidance, or even a large bottle of wine wasn’t going to make them go away. Although her grandmother’s bequest was demanding the most attention right now, the second phone was developing a voice of its own, popping into her brain at odd times during the day, reminding her she needed to find out how to get into it.
Who would be the best person to help her with that? Did she need to take it to the store? Would they unlock it for her? Or would she need oodles of proof that John was dead, she was his widow, and she had every right to see what was on that phone?
Would she need to find someone who operated at the edges of legality to open it? And where would she ever find someone like that? Somehow, she doubted her teacher friends would have a resource handy.
Once she finished breakfast the next morning, she put her calendar in front of her and dialed the attorney and made one more attempt to avoid the trip.
“Is there really no way I can simply sell it unseen?”
“There is no way,” he said, “but why would you want to do that?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking,” Kelly said.
“Your grandmother was a wonderful woman who made significant contributions to the arts and artists by providing a safe haven to make mistakes and improve their skills as well as their emotional well-being. Many well-known artists, musicians, playwrights, and more held themselves in her debt. Is a week or so too much to sacrifice from your busy life to pay last respects to a woman who cared a great deal for you?”
The words hit Kelly like a punch to the gut.
“Sorry,” he said. “That was over the top and unfair. I don’t even know you except as a person Henrietta described. I cared a great deal for her. A great deal.”
He was right. Despite all her doubts and neurosis, she needed to get on that plane and pay her respects.
“Okay,” she said, “I’ll pay a last visit to my grandmother’s retreat.”
