Until There Was You(96)
Posey’s throat was too tight to answer.
“I have the right to dispose of my property as I see fit, Posey,” Viv snapped. “I have my nieces and nephews to think of, you know, and they wouldn’t appreciate me—”
“It’s okay,” she said, taking Vivian’s hand. If she looked at the old lady now, she’d start bawling. “I understand.” She bit her lip to control the trembling of her mouth.
How could Viv’s Vultures just…erase a place like The Meadows? Pretend it never happened and slap up a bevy of soulless McMansions, and that gracious, beautiful house, built in the time of Mark Twain and parasols, of lemonade on the porch in the summer and sleigh bells on harnesses in the winter, would be gone.
Down East Salvage would strip the house down in days. Posey had seen them work—they used chainsaws, for the love of Elvis, and backhoes. Those beautiful gardens would be torn up, thousands of bulbs and plants crushed or thrown away. Down East would cut down the elm tree, she’d bet her life they would, never mind that it was three hundred years old. They would desecrate the entire place. They didn’t love The Meadows the way she did. They hadn’t been there twice a week for the past two years. They hadn’t made love out by the pine trees.
Posey would’ve taken months with that house. She and Mac would’ve lovingly removed every feature, from the marble fireplace in the dining room to the copper tub on the third floor. She would’ve cut out the lead-paned windows with her sharpest, smallest saw and coaxed them from the walls. Every doorknob, every light-switch plate, every heating grate would’ve been wrapped carefully until Posey found them new homes, where they’d be loved and appreciated. And when the beautiful shell of the house finally had to come down, Posey would’ve stood guard until it was done and paid her last respects.
Down East would use Dumpsters. They’d hire high-school kids, and they’d throw things out the windows into Dumpsters. She’d seen it happen on their job sites before.
“I have to get going,” Posey said when she could trust her voice.
“Yes. You have a birthday engagement, I suppose,” Vivian said.
“Dinner with my family.” She swallowed. “Thank you for the pin. It’s beautiful.”
“Go. You’ll be late, and it’s so inconsiderate.” With that, Vivian fished out her phone and began texting.
Posey tried not to think about The Meadows on the drive to her parents’ house.
But it was hard.
The whole week had been hard. She hadn’t seen her parents since learning about the letter.
Max and Stacia had always given all the right lip service on the rare occasions that the subject of birth parents came up. But Posey knew. If she’d ever said, “Hey, I’d like to find my birth parents,” they’d take it like a knife in the heart. Who, after all, had done the real work of parenting, staying up when Posey was sick, helping her with her science homework, taking such pride in her depiction of the turnip in Farmer Smith’s garden?
So she’d done nothing about the letter, aside from telling Liam. And, it must be acknowledged, Liam had been incredible. All that upset, all that churning, and he’d somehow made her feel…happy.
It was too bad about the run-in with the Tates. She wondered how that was going…?. He hadn’t called her, but tomorrow was Wednesday, usually the night they saw each other.
She pulled up in front of her parents’ house. Was her letter somewhere inside? How exactly would she ask about it?
“Look at you! You’re beautiful!” Jon announced as he answered the door. “Come in, birthday princess. Everyone’s here except Gretch the Wretch, even Brianna, OMG, you should’ve seen her face when she found out we were having pork knuckles for an appetizer. And listen, I tried to bring chicken cordon bleu and scalloped potatoes, but your mom said your heart was set on herring, so we’re stuck with the food from the Fatherland.” He paused for breath. “Why the sad face?”
“I didn’t get the rights to The Meadows,” she said, and you know, that was the thing about family. They hugged her and patted her shoulder, and Jon made her a vodka gimlet, and Mom set a plate of pork meatballs in front of her.
“They’re stupid if they didn’t hire you,” Brianna said, and Posey smiled. Brie was nothing if not loyal.
“Agreed,” murmured Henry.
“Well, it’s your birthday, so be happy,” Dad said, squeezing her shoulder.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said. He might’ve kept a secret for the past fifteen years, but he was her dear old dad nonetheless.
The door banged open, and there was Gretchen, dressed to kill in a slinky pink shirt and tight black skirt that clung to her curves. She gave a rather formal nod. “Hello, all.”
“Sweetie, have a seat!” Stacia said. “You look exhausted!”
“Is four half-days a week just too much?” Jon murmured to Posey.
Gretchen allowed Max to get her a drink. “Well, don’t just sit there,” Stacia commanded, ever the gracious hostess. “Get into the dining room. Essen und geniessen!”
“Come again?” Brianna said, examining a pork-liver ball at the end of a toothpick.
“Eat and enjoy,” Stacia said. “Come on, sweetheart, while it’s hot!”
When they were all seated around the dining-room table, Henry tapped his glass. “We have an announcement, and Jon said I was the one who should tell you.” He glanced at his partner and smiled. “Okay, here goes. Posey, we have a birthday present for you, but you’ll have to wait a little while before it gets here.”