I Let My SIL Have Her Wedding at My Grandmother’s Lake House—Then What She Did to the Property Became the Final Straw

I said: the contractor assessment is complete. I’ll send you that too.

She said: okay.

She said: the pillows.

I said: I cleaned them. They’ll be all right.

She said: I’m glad.

She said: I’m really sorry about the spice jars.

This surprised me.

She said: the photograph in the box. Of the jars in the correct order. I looked at her handwriting on the labels. And I thought about someone being careful enough to organize them that way. And someone else just moving them without caring.

She said: I was the someone who didn’t care. That was me.

I said: yes.

She said: that feels bad.

I said: yes. It should.

She said: not in a punishing way. Just. It feels bad to be that person.

I said: I know.

She said: I don’t want to be that person.

I said: good.

She said: the dried flower.

I said: yes.

She said: I’m keeping it.

I said: all right.

She said: not as a punishment. Because I need to remember.

I said: that’s a good reason to keep something.

She was quiet.

She said: I know we’re not close. You and me. I always assumed you didn’t like me.

I said: I didn’t dislike you. I found you difficult.

She laughed slightly, and it was a real laugh, not the defensive one.

She said: yes. I am difficult.

I said: you’re getting less difficult this week.

She said: at significant cost.

I said: yes.

She said: thank you for not involving lawyers.

I said: I was considering it.

She said: I believe you.

She said: the letter. What you wrote about Frances.

I said: yes.

She said: she sounds like someone I would have liked to know.

I said: she was someone everyone who knew her was glad they knew.

She said: I’m sorry I didn’t treat her house the way she would have wanted.

I said: she’s not here to be sorry to. I’m here.

She said: I’m sorry to you.

I said: I know.

She said: I mean it.

I said: I can tell.

She said: that’s the first time you’ve said something nice to me in six years.

I said: you haven’t given me many reasons.

She said: no. I haven’t.

She said: can we start over?

I said: start over is a complicated phrase.

She said: what would you prefer?

I said: continue differently.

She said: yes. That.

I said: yes.

She said: I’ll transfer the money when you send the invoices.

I said: thank you.

She said: and. When the garden is planted.

I said: yes.

She said: can I see it?

I said: call first.

She said: of course.

I said: yes. When the garden is planted, you can come and see it.

We said goodbye.

I put the phone on the counter.

I stood in the kitchen of the house in town, the one Thomas and I lived in, and I thought about Frances’s kitchen at the lake with the cast iron in order of size and the spice jars in her handwriting.

Thomas appeared in the doorway.

He said: was that Kelsey?

I said: yes.

He said: how did it go?

I said: it went.

He said: what does that mean?

I said: it means I think she understood.

He said: what did you put in that box?

I told him.

He listened.

When I finished, he said: the journal pages.

I said: yes.

He said: August third.

I said: yes.

He said: she wrote that she thought you saw it.

I said: yes.

He said: she was right.

I said: I know.

He looked at me.

He said: I should have been there. To make sure the conditions were met.

I said: yes.

He said: instead of.

I said: Thomas. The hospital was the right choice. Carol needed someone there.

He said: yes. But someone else could have been with Carol. And I could have been at the lake house.