Circle in the Sand (27 page)

I wake up in my old room for the first time in almost three years, to silence and
the smell of coffee. Standard Douglas household atmosphere. I slept soundly, wafting
to sleep on an endless visual loop of Travis kissing me. We are by no means the perfect
couple, but now there is clarity and honesty between us. And knowing we both want
the same thing is good enough for me for the time being.

I’d had my reservations about last night, but it couldn’t have gone any better. When
we arrived back at Oak Grove, Rose was greeted by a mini-reception of seniors who
most likely didn’t want to miss out on their chance to celebrate. She threw surprise
and gratitude on her face, but I could see exhaustion lurking beneath. It was a bit
of a relief, not having to leave her alone and dealing with the emotions that went
with that. I asked her nurse not to let her stay up too much longer.

Dad convinced me to spend a few days at the house when he heard me mention I’d be
taking next week off. I’m determined to find the best homes for the rest of grandmother’s
money, including something that has special meaning to me. Plus Christine told me
I’d better get some vacation time in before she leaves and I’m swamped.

My mother appears in the doorway holding a steaming mug. “Good morning,” she says,
lifting up the cup. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” I sit up in the bed, taking in a strange sense of nostalgia as she parks herself
on the edge. This is where we had many hellos and goodbyes in the midst of my mother’s
work/travel career.

“Thank you,” I say, taking the cup. I set it aside on the table next to me where a
picture of the four of us still sits with a thin layer of dust. “What happened to
Chicago?”

She reaches out, touches a piece of my hair. “I put it off for a couple of days when
I found out you were staying.” Her voice is soft, tender, like the time she told me
she was sick.

“What’s wrong? Are you…?”

“No, honey. Everything’s fine.
I’m
fine.”

“Then why are you here?”

She shakes her head. “That’s a legitimate question, Sage.” Then she gets up from the
bed, pulls up the blinds. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.” She leans up against
the window ledge. “I understand that I was never mother of the year. But having you
and Sierra…you girls were my two greatest accomplishments.”

“Mom, you don’t have to do this.”

She holds up a finger as though her secretary is interrupting her during a meeting.
“There were times I convinced myself I was doing it all for you. To give you and Sierra
a better life than I had. And when I got sick and was fortunate enough to make it
through all that, instead of cherishing my family, I dove deeper into my work.”

“It was a tough time for you.” I’m surprised that I’m defending her when she’s right
about it all.

“I know you can’t outrun cancer, but I think that’s what I was trying to do. Anyway,
I won’t turn this into a pity party. It’s just that I had a chance to talk with Rose
a bit last night…. What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing. She’s really getting around these days. So what did she say?”

“She said that if cancer didn’t scare me straight, that maybe her death would.”

My mouth flies open with a gasp. But I’m not sorry she said it. Rose knows she and
my mother are one and the same. Maybe that’s why my father picked her.

“I know,” she says. “We talked about her money too. She said she knew giving Dad and
me her money wouldn’t change a thing. She was right, and I told her that we don’t
hold it against her.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And I do want things to be different between us, Sage. It may take some time, but
I’m willing to try.”

I’m not prepared to bond with her yet, but I do appreciate that she’s come to this
conclusion. “Thanks, Mom.” It comes off sounding trite, but it is all I am ready for.

She comes back to the bed, holds me, runs her hand down my hair. “I love you, sweetheart.
Please don’t give up on me.”

“I love you too.” Over her shoulder I see my dad step into the doorway. “Good morning,
Dad.”

Mother pulls back and turns to face him. “How about breakfast?” Her tone snaps back
to normal like an actress on cue. “Should we go out?” My dad doesn’t move, only shakes
his head. It’s then that I register the expression on his face. He pulls his glasses
off, pinches his nose between his eyes. “What is it, Steven?” my mother asks. But
I already know.

●●●

Three days later, we hold grandmother’s funeral—open casket for a packed church. Most
of the attendees were complete strangers to me: business associates, friends, relatives,
Oak Grove residents that were able to leave the facility. And surprisingly several
church members who told me Rose had become a regular attender not too long ago. There
is still so much I never got to learn about her. I sit with my family to my left,
Travis and my friends to my right.

During the service, my father speaks, talking mostly about growing up with her as
a role model. It sounds more like a victory speech than a eulogy, but no one seems
to notice.

When it’s my turn to talk, I say very little about the woman I knew growing up. Instead
I focus on the woman I came to know and love right before her death. Whose honesty,
integrity, courage and pure generosity will affect me for the rest of my life. I end
by reciting a poem she loved and once read to me:

“Life” by Charlotte Bronte

LIFE, believe, is not a dream

So dark as sages say;

Oft a little morning rain

Foretells a pleasant day.

Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,

But these are transient all;

If the shower will make the roses bloom,

O why lament its fall?

Rapidly, merrily,

Life's sunny hours flit by,

Gratefully, cheerily

Enjoy them as they fly!

What though Death at times steps in,

And calls our Best away?

What though sorrow seems to win,

O'er hope, a heavy sway?

Yet Hope again elastic springs,

Unconquered, though she fell;

Still buoyant are her golden wings,

Still strong to bear us well.

Manfully, fearlessly,

The day of trial bear,

For gloriously, victoriously,

Can courage quell despair!

After it’s over, I tell my family I need one more moment alone with my grandmother.
Travis waits off to the side. I worried I’d be afraid to see her this way, but I’m
not. She’s peaceful, healthier-looking than her last days. I want to touch her, hug
her. Instead I place my hand on the casket and whisper, “I love you.” Then I gasp.
“Oh, no!” I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed this before.

Travis is by my side now. “What’s wrong?”

“Her necklace.” I regard her once again. The blouse my parents chose is low enough
that I can clearly she has nothing around her neck. “She’s not wearing it. The sapphire
one my grandfather gave her. She never took it off, and she can’t go without it.”
I’m losing it over this, tears ready to flow. “Can you get my dad?”

Travis rounds up my father who says he doesn’t remember seeing it, but will call over
to Oak Grove. Minutes later they report that it’s not in any of the spots we’ve asked
them to check. They agree to continue looking, searching the rest of the room. My
father is itching to keep the schedule and thinks I’m overreacting. In a rare display
of sympathy, my sister Sierra and my mother come to my rescue. Sierra talks to my
father, while my mother attempts to comfort me. Dad eventually asks that we continue
on to the cemetery, and if it’s found, we’ll figure something out.

As we arrive to the burial location, Travis wraps his arm around my waist. He guides
me to the spot. Then another horrible thought pierces my brain. “Oh my God, Travis.
What if she lost her necklace at the beach on her birthday? Do you remember seeing
it?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember at all,” he says. “I was so worried about her falling
in the water or hurting her when I was carrying her that I didn’t pay attention to
much else.”

I bet everyone thinks I’m overreacting to this. But I know how much that necklace
meant to her, and if it got lost in the ocean or on the beach, I won’t be able to
handle that. Travis holds me, tells me to try not to worry. I could so easily close
my eyes and forget the world, but I have no choice when I see my father walk up.

“I’m sorry, Sage. They didn’t find it. We better get started,” he says buttoning his
coat. He walks away, and I realize he has yet to shed a tear.

The rest of the day and night are a blur to me. I can’t get over the sense that I’ve
somehow let Rose down. Back at the house, I plaster on a smile as guests eat, drink,
and compliment my parents on their beautiful home. The house is warmer than usual
with all the people—the smell of an abundance of food filling it as well. It would
be almost pleasant if I wasn’t so drained. Grandmother would have liked it.

After a while, Travis and I sneak back to my bedroom. I lie on the bed and let him
rummage around. He seems so fascinated with the artifacts of the young Sage Douglas.
I let him do whatever he wants. I watch as he scans through a few photo albums. Then
he pulls out some boxes from the closet, each time asking if it’s okay.

I love the visual of him in my room. It’s so natural, so perfect. He scans a yearbook
I hadn’t remembered I left, but to me he is reading a story to our small child.

“Wow, what a hottie,” he says, when he finds my picture, making me blush.

He finds a basket of my stuffed animals and asks me the name of each one. He holds
up a baby sheep, but to me he is holding our newborn. I laugh at myself, and Travis
says, “What?”

All of this emotionally sappy daydreaming must be from the overwhelming day, or week,
or months. But I wouldn’t change that. “Nothing. It’s just nice seeing you here.”

We are in there for so long, day is pulled away by night, and he finally kisses me
good bye. When all the guests have left, Sierra comes and gets in bed with me the
way she used to when she was little. We talk a while about school and life, about
grandmother, and before long we’re both asleep.

●●●

The next day, grandmother’s lawyer shows up at the house as we are cleaning up the
breakfast dishes. He follows my father into the living room as my mother opens the
blinds, filling the room with radiant light. It’s another beautifully clear morning.

I’m surprised to see him. I have control over Rose’s money, and I still have some
to give away, but we didn’t have any meetings set up. “Hello, Mr. Richards. It’s nice
to see you.” He’s dressed much more casually in jeans and a polo shirt than when I
saw him in his office. He’s holding a large, brown briefcase in one hand and a file
in the other.

My father introduces him to Sierra, who smiles and nods, while my mother reaches out
for his hand. “How are you, Bill?”

“Can I get you something to drink?” my father says. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you. This should be fairly quick.”

My father directs him to the couch and takes the seat next to him. Sierra and I sit
on the couch across from them. My mother plants herself on the arm next to my dad.

“As I said on the phone, even though Ms. Douglas has control of Rose’s financial assets,
there were a few additional assets that need to be dispersed as indicated in her will.”
He opens the file and studies it for a moment.

I’m somewhat surprised by this even though it makes sense. I hadn’t even considered
a will since the money wasn’t an issue.

Bill turns to my father. “Rose indicated that you have stored some of her possessions,
including a 2008 Mercedes sl500.”

My father nods with a slight smile. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Well, it’s Rose’s wish that the car go to Sierra.” He turns to my sister, who is
clearly torn between the appropriate reaction and jumping up and running like she
just got called down for
The Price is Right
.

“Oh, my gosh,” she says, glancing at my father. “Is that okay?”

“It’s what she wanted, sweetheart,” he says.

Bill continues, “The other items—two paintings, a set of china, miscellaneous pieces
of jewelry, etcetera, etcetera…here’s a detailed list, as well as a few bonds that
were not cashed in—are for you and your wife.” He hands the paper to my dad.

“I have a few final papers to go over and that should wrap things up. But feel free
to contact me at any time should any questions arise.”

“Wait,” Sierra says with concern in her voice. “What about Sage?”

Everyone pans to me. I’m not feeling left out. I don’t want any pity. “It’s okay,
really. I didn’t expect anything. Grandmother and I understood each other and the
money…the privilege, no the honor, she has given me…that’s enough for me.”