Madelyn "Lyn" Creeke and her grandmother were the last of their family. At least, that's what Lyn's grandmother always led her to believe.
Lyn had never heard of or seen pictures of Georgina Creeke, a great aunt that had been living a few hours awa...
Now that he reached his point, my wary mind had something to hold on to and I looked up at him from the tops of my eyes. How did I tell him I didn't know either? What was compelling me forward at this point? Any sane person would go upstairs and slip into bed, especially now that I was actually sleeping in a bed. Just that thought, that memory of feeling the soft contour of the pillow top mattress hugging my aching spine, should have been enough for me to throw my hands up and tell Jordan that I simply didn't know, before heading straight to my room. But I didn't do that. I just shook my head and sent my eyes to the boxes sitting at the end of the table, waiting to be filled.
"Because it's important," I mumbled before yawning.
"Because it's important?" When I turned to look at him, I expected malice and frustration, but I only found pain and fatigue. "He's seen the place by now, hasn't he?"
I didn't need him to qualify this question. There was only one "he" he would be referring to.
"Yes."
"Did he like the house?" His words were clipped and dark.
"Yes."
"Is there a contract?"
"Yes."
I waited for the next question, but he only nodded and then turned for the door. Unfortunately, the wheels in my head were moving too slowly to realize that perhaps then would have been a good time to tell Jordan about the closing date. That way, he could be prepared if Mr. Myers sent Jordan on his way. However, by the time I thought of this, he was gone and only the cup of coffee he sat before me remained.
But there had been coffee. I didn't know what kind of olive branch that was, but unless he spiked it with poison, the gesture was a kind one.
As I breathed in the nutty aroma, I decided perhaps now was a good time to take a break. I leaned back against my chair and glanced over at the journal sitting nearby. I'd brought it down, along with the box, in case I needed to refresh my memory on anything. However, I figured perhaps with exhaustion dulling my emotions and the coffee calming my nerves, I'd spend my break reading up on the much anticipated meeting between myself and Gina.
It took quite a few entries to get there. Georgina seemed impatient, only writing an entry here and there to mark major points in her year, like the Thanksgiving dinner and the Christmas competition. She also wrote about the day I was born and her excitement about meeting me in person. My father had sent her a picture eventually, but she longed to have a photo of just the two of us together. Then, about a year after my birth, my great aunt just couldn't wait any longer. She'd saved up money and blocked out dates for reservations, providing herself a completely free week. My dad's running excuse that they didn't expect the sheer amount of things they'd have to worry about when traveling with a baby was apparently getting old. If they wouldn't come to her, she'd go to them. My dad didn't fight her on it.
She drove halfway across the country since my parents had moved quite a ways away for work. She detailed some of the amazing sights she saw along the way, but they always took a back seat to her excitement about meeting my folks and seeing me.
Then, the big day came.
August 9, 1992
I don't know when I last felt this much joy. Perhaps it was the day I got Jack's letter, but even that doesn't compare to holding my grandniece in my arms. Ever since Norma told me of my brother's death... even then, I don't know if I was ever truly happy in Los Angeles. How could I be when I was alone and separated from my family? The only reason I never returned to them was because of my shame. I couldn't leave until I'd proven it was all worth it and I never even accomplished that. No, I think the last time I felt this genuine joy was the summers I spent with my brother, biking to the lake, eating ice pops off the pier, and watching the sun melt into the water. I'd never have those days again, but perhaps I could share them with Maddie instead.
When I held her, I felt all her innocence beam through her smile. Her heart is untouched by the loss and pain of our family, and her eyes still glitter with hope. She promises a brighter future for our family and I know my brother Jack would have been so proud of her, just as he would have been proud of his son.
My nephew tells me he's going to work on his mom. He's going to convince Norma to at least tolerate me. I told him there won't ever be forgiveness there, and that's okay, but if she can accept me as still a part of their lives, then perhaps we can heal. He says it will happen, that he will fix this and that I will see them again. He said when they come over for the holidays, they'll convince her to let me join them. They'll all come over to the inn and I'll show them how decorated the town can be! And then little Maddie will hold my hand and I'll walk her past the shops with their windows filled with tinsel and lights. I'll lift her up in my arms and toss her towards the stars as long as my old arms can do so. I'll shower her with all the love I've been saving up in my heart and soon the only thing Norma can be mad at me for is for stepping on her role as grandmother. Friendly competition can be healthy.
Oh, my Maddie. My sweet little girl. I could have looked into that smile all day and all night. Had it not been for the constant diaper changes and feedings, I'm not sure your mother would have ever pried you away from me, but that's okay... I'll never forget this day and now I have a picture of your smile to keep with me always.
I love you Maddie.
I dropped the journal on the floor and planted my face in my hands.
What had I done?
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