Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
“It’s a relaxing place, Mrs. Griffith. Hard to leave.” I plaster on a smile.
“Edith,” she reminds me, and beckons us back to her stall, where she’s selling what looks like handmade soaps. “You must call me Edith. And please take some on the house. I insist, my apology for the messy situation.”
Margot’s fingers brush mine as we both reach out to collect a handful of soaps that smell like strong lavender.
“Actually, it’s great that it worked out this way,” I continue. “The kids and I have good company who gives us pointers with the locals. Not sure we’d have gotten off the lake nearly as much without Margot around.”
They both smile until it feels like I’m bathed in sunlight.
“Plus, the blueberry farm next door’s great.” I give Margot a pointed look she finally picks up on. Her eyes widen. “The Babins deserve a medal for hospitality. How many muffins did you make, Margot?”
“Oh, yes, they came over right away to introduce themselves and gave us a year’s supply of fresh blueberries,” she says. “Such lovely neighbors. I’m kind of amazed Gramps never mentioned them.”
The second Edith’s face darkens, I know we’ve hit something.
Sophie and Dan both walk off to be with the horses.
Good. It helps that they aren’t around to feel the change in the air.
“Oh, my, the Babins…” The sweet old lady practically grinds their name with her teeth. “I’m surprised they showed their faces after the way they carried on when old Leo owned the place.”
Margot frowns and looks at me. Clearly this is news.
“What did they do?”
“Oh, some silly grudge over the land. Only, it stopped being so silly after—and this was years ago—after they started up with their demands. Old Joe’s father even sued Leonidas one winter on faulty claims.” She shakes her head slowly, still lost in the past. “But they were laughed out of court. Humiliated, in fact.”
“They sued PopPop?” Margot looks stunned.
“I’m afraid so, dear. Oh, and that’s not all… there was that fire the summer after, before you were born. Torched the old gazebo he’d built and your grams’ pretty garden. A real miracle it never reached the house.” She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. “No proof what happened, of course, but I always had a suspicion who was behind it.”
Shit.
My heart drums.
“Fire? Jesus, I never—” Margot clears her throat, rubbing her fingers idly over her collarbone like she’s soothing away a bee sting. “He never mentioned any of this.”
“No, I suppose not. Leo loved to keep this place pure for you kids, I think. And he wasn’t the kind to hold grudges. I’m sorry you had to hear it from me.”
Margot’s nostrils flare.
“No, don’t be,” she says quietly.
“It hit Leo hard, that fire. The gazebo was always your grandma’s favorite place when she was around, right next to those beautiful gardens. The perennials would come back year after year before the fire.” Edith’s gaze is distant, and she smiles shyly. “Seems like just yesterday… I’d stop by to pick up a few flowers or bring her a bottle of wine. Sweet woman. You’d find May Blackthorn painting out there almost every day in the warm months.”
“Oh, wow. I found a painting she did in the attic.” Margot bites her lip.
“She was prolific! And Leonidas was usually there with her, doting over her shoulder. But he never came around much after her passing, especially after the fire. Just a few times a year when he’d bring you and Ethan around.” She heaves a sigh. “Poor man. I’m not sure he ever got over the heartache of losing her last special place.”
Margot steps back like she’s been punched.
I put my hand on the small of her back, holding her steady.
She gives me a grateful glance, leaning into my hand, and I slide my arm around her hip, pulling her closer.
Her face looks so pale it worries me.
“I had no idea about any of this,” she says.
Edith nods seriously.
“It’s time you found out about the Babins and your granddad’s past. He’d have wanted you to know, especially with them sniffing around.”
Margot’s brows draw together.
Although she nods back gratefully, she doesn’t look convinced.
I wonder if Edith’s right.
Maybe the old man never wanted her to know about this stuff at all.
He never told her, after all, and there were plenty of opportunities. He could’ve left her a note in his will too, instead of sending her on a wild damn goose chase for whatever’s buried in the house.
I hate seeing her like this.
She’s not crying—I don’t think she lets herself cry often—but there’s a frailness in her face, her posture.
I hold her closer, and she gives me another grateful glance, her blue eyes dark.
“Whoa, Dad, look!” Dan yells from behind us.
We both turn, and I’m expecting something shocking.
But he’s just pointing at an ice cream truck on the other side of the park.