Glancing around at the tables, Renee wished for a moment she and Matt could have come here during her stay. But she wouldn’t have missed this evening with Julie and Robbie for anything and turned her full attention back to them. They all laughed when Julie gagged down her squid appetizer and Robbie made an awful face, eyes watering, when he sampled the ginger pickled fish. Each tried a different kind of seafood for their main entree. They shared a decadent chocolate dessert.
“I see you liked the cake I recommended,” their tall, raven-haired waitress teased Robbie as she refilled his water glass.
“Since you recommended it, I knew it would be tasty before I even took a bite,” Robbie quipped back, causing Julie to gag again.
When they were too full to eat anything more and wait staff had cleared the table, Renee pulled their envelopes out of her purse and handed one to each of her children. Both opened them simultaneously and silently read their letters. After each finished and set their letters down on the blue table cloth, they looked first at each other, then at Renee, then back at each other again as grins slowly spread across their faces.
“Well,” Renee finally burst out, “don’t keep me in suspense any longer—what did your letters say?”
“Jeez, Mom, you are not gonna believe this,” Robbie exclaimed, waving his letter at her. “Aunt C left me a boatload of cash! It says here that just as soon as I graduate with at least a four-year college degree, I’ll receive fifty—thousand—freaking—dollars! I had no idea Aunt C was so flippin’ rich!”
Robbie’s voice got a bit loud for the other customers and Renee had to shush him. She was too shocked to say anything. Robbie was right . . . that was a boatload of money.
“Mine basically says the same,” Julie said, still grinning from ear to ear but managing to stay a bit calmer. “Aunt C left me fifty thousand dollars, too, and I get it after graduating. She went on to encourage me to put lots of thought into what I want to do with the money. When we get back to the cottage, I want to take more time to read everything she wrote to me. She obviously put a lot of thought into the letter, and I need a quiet place to spend more time going through it.”
“Yeah, I do too,” Robbie spoke up, still flustered by his gift.
“Mom, did you read your letter yet?” Julie asked. “You haven’t said a word about it.”
“As a matter of fact, I did. I read it early on New Year’s Day.”
“What?” exclaimed Robbie. “Before us?”
“When we were all together at Christmas,” Renee explained, “Ethan, Jess, Val, and I all agreed to open our letters at the same time. Your Great Aunt C was a special lady. You’ve heard the stories. She earned a good living, and she did an even better job investing what she made. Celia was generous throughout her lifetime. She used to tell us she was blessed and felt it was her duty to pass those blessings on to others.”
“So what’d she give you?” Robbie asked.
“I haven’t mentioned what was in my letter yet to the two of you because I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about it. Just like yours, it was a . . . generous gift. I’m just not sure what to do with it.”
“Mom, quit with the suspense already! How much did you get?” Robbie blurted, getting another “Shhhh!” out of both his mom and sister this time.
“OK, OK, give me a second,” Renee admonished Robbie, settling him down with a look he knew well. “Many years ago, Aunt Celia acquired a small resort on a lake in central Minnesota. We used to go there as kids, but I haven’t been back since high school. I honestly didn’t even know Celia still owned it. My gift from Aunt Celia is that same resort.”
Both kids were stunned into silence for the first time that evening. They had expected her to say she received money, too—maybe more, since she was a generation closer to Celia. To find out their mother had inherited lake property back in Minnesota was a complete surprise.
Renee reached inside her purse and drew out a half-dozen photographs Celia had included with her letter. Four were starting to fade; two were more recent. Julie recognized a much younger Renee in one of the shots, wearing a bikini and standing next to her sisters on a wooden dock. The other faded pictures included more of their relatives in their younger years. The newer photographs must have been recent shots of the resort. One shot was of three small cabins scattered around a central area. All were sided in dark wood with bright red trim around doors and windows. A larger building in another shot looked like a lodge. There were cars parked in front. It reminded Renee a little bit of the building in the front of their resort here in Fiji.
Julie passed the pictures over to Robbie and sat back. Robbie groaned his disapproval at the sight of his mother in a bikini. He spent more time studying the two newer pictures before passing them back to Renee.
“Now do you understand why I hadn’t said anything to you yet?” Renee asked. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do with a resort two hundred miles from home. How could I even think about keeping a place like that up? Why in heaven’s name would Celia leave something like that to me and not to Ethan? At least he might be able to handle the maintenance of the old place.” It was a relief verbalizing some of the thoughts that had been keeping her up at night since she read the letter. Her brother was a carpenter by trade, and a talented one. What was she? Unemployed, she thought bitterly.
“Do you know what she left to Ethan or your sisters?” Julie asked.
“No, I didn’t want to call them from here. Too expensive. I’ll call all of them when we get home.”
“Well . . .” Julie thought aloud. “As we all know, Aunt C was a smart woman. I suspect she had good reason for doing what she did. We just need to give it some time to figure out what those reasons might be.”
At those wise words, they decided to call it a night and head back to their cottage. It would be an early morning.
Chapter 24
Gift of Home
Their exit from paradise went smoothly yet regretfully so, and they soon found themselves on a large jet headed home. The three of them were again scattered around the plane. This time, instead of the charitable Susan, Renee was seated next to an elderly man with little to say. Renee was fine with that. She needed time to think.
The past three weeks had been crazy. She had become unemployed, reconnected with family, had learned her daughter was being harassed by a boy from college, discovered her dead husband had family she hadn’t known about, took her two kids on a spur-of-the-moment dream vacation . . . even found herself almost making love with a sexy sheriff on a beach. Now she was going home to reality and had to figure out how she was going to make a living, what in heaven’s name she was going to do with a resort she now owned in Minnesota lake country, and make sure her daughter was safe as she headed back to college.
More tired than she realized, she dozed off after lunch. She was back on the moonlit beach in Matt’s arms, and this time they weren’t interrupted. Her mind played out the fantasies her body had not gotten to experience because of an ill-fated phone call. She gradually felt the dream slip away as the plane started its descent. Once fully awake, she realized they were almost back to Minneapolis. It was hot in the cabin. She fanned herself using a pamphlet from the seat pocket in front of her. She could have sworn the old man smirked at her, and Renee wondered, mortified, if she had unconsciously made any sounds or talked in her sleep.
Renee busied herself gathering her belongings and then watched out the window across the aisle. A week in the tropics left her unprepared for the completely white landscape below, crisscrossed by black ribbons of roads, rivers, and lakes. She pulled her watch out of her purse to check the time. (When they got to Fiji, she had tossed it in her bag, refusing to clock-watch on vacation.) Now it was turning to dusk in Minneapolis.
They landed, gathered their luggage from baggage claim, and hauled everything out to her Toyota. The frigid air felt brittle when they stepped out of the terminal. Renee crossed her fingers, hoping the engine would start after sitting
so long in such weather. After a slight hesitation, the SUV turned over. Renee maneuvered out of the ramp. Thankfully roads were dry, despite high snow drifts lining the highway. They opted for a quick stop at a drive-thru on the way home to give them time to unpack versus figuring out what to cook.
“The fridge is empty, anyhow,” Robbie reminded them, somewhat glumly.
As they turned onto their street, they were met with one last blessing for the day: one of their neighbors had blown the snow off their driveway, only a fine coating of snow remaining. Together they wrestled everything inside and kicked up the furnace to take the chill off. It was too quiet in the house. Normally Molly met them at the door, but their cocker spaniel had stayed at Renee’s parents’ house while they were gone.
After depositing suitcases in bedrooms, each of them collapsed onto a couch or recliner in front of the television, too exhausted from jet lag and time changes to do anything more. All the fun had finally caught up with them. Thankfully it was Saturday night, and they were free of any obligations.
It took until later Sunday afternoon for Renee to feel like she could function again. She made a trip to the grocery store, threw dinner together, and started laundry. Robbie had to head back to school in the morning, and Julie would leave Monday afternoon to get back to college for a Wednesday start.
Julia is heading back to college, Renee thought, and back to Lincoln.
Chapter 25
Gift of the Senses
Where do I start? Renee despaired.
Julie was back at college, Robbie in his regular routine of school, basketball, and buddies. Both kids had thanked Renee again and again for the fun of the past three weeks, but now they were back to their own lives, and it was time to figure out what her life was going to look like. No more procrastinating. But the thought of it all was daunting.
Once Robbie left for the day, Renee put on the coffee and again pulled out her journals and new books from her carry-on bag. First she read through her entries from the day she was laid off and the next few days that followed, before their three-week holiday adventure had taken over. Her frustrations and fear from those days jumped off the pages at her. As she worked to figure out her next steps, she knew it would be important to keep those strong feelings in mind. Many had been bubbling under the surface of her conscience for some time, but it had been easy to ignore them.
After thumbing through her entries, Renee read a few more chapters from the books. The authors offered up ideas she had not even considered. Here she was, forty-five years old, and she was so reliant on her regular paycheck from her corporate job it terrified her. She had fallen deep into the trap of the eight-to-five gig, taking only a few weeks of vacation each year. Weeks, months, and years had clicked by on autopilot.
She set her book aside when the doorbell rang. Who in the world could that be? Renee wondered as she pushed out of her comfy recliner and glanced through the front window. Out at the curb stood a delivery van boasting a picture of large, vibrant flowers painted across its side. A young woman stood at her door, holding a large bouquet carefully wrapped against the cold.
Renee quickly opened the door. “Please, please, come in,” she said.
The woman gladly stepped into the warmth of the foyer after stomping her boots on the mat outside so she wouldn’t track in snow. “Oh, thank you, it’s freezing out there,” she said. “I have a delivery for . . .” Balancing the bouquet in one hand, she read a name from the clipboard she held in the other. “Renee Clements.”
Who could this be from? Renee thought, surprised. She’d expected them to maybe be a gift from Lincoln, arrived too late for Julie’s departure back to college.
“Thank you,” Renee said, and pushed a five-dollar bill she happened to have stashed in her pocket into the woman’s hand, taking the flowers.
The woman smiled appreciatively. “Happy New Year’s!” she said, and returned swiftly to her delivery van.
Renee stared at the flowers as she set them on the dining room table. It had been years since anyone had sent her flowers. As she pulled layers of first plastic and then tissue from the bundle, the warm scent of tropical blooms rushed out and perfumed the air around her. She tossed the wrapping to the side and pulled out a card tucked into the bright petals.
Dear Renee,
Thank you for locking your keys in your car and stepping in front of me on the beach. I am sorry we didn’t get much time together. Sending a bit of the tropics to you in snowy MN, hoping to add some color to your winter day. Hope you don’t mind—I sweet-talked Lulu into giving me your home address, me being the sheriff and all. If you would like to keep in touch, my email address is on the back.
Thinking of you,
Matt
Delighted by the flowers and note, Renee beamed at the fragrant bouquet before her. The idea of reaching out to Matt via email more than intrigued her, so she fired up her laptop. Phone calls with him would be challenging, given the time difference and cost. But emailing could be a fun way to keep in touch.
Renee refilled her coffee and sat down to compose her message back to Matt. She took her time. She thanked him for the flowers and attached a photo to the email so he could see them, too. Because she had told him all about her current situation, she shared a bit of her frustrations about not knowing where to start. But she was careful not to whine. No one likes to listen to that for long. Once she had a couple paragraphs written, she decided that was enough and sent off the note, along with a suggestion that maybe they try to touch base about once a week. She knew how busy he was and didn’t want him to think she expected an immediate response when she emailed.
Closing the lid to her laptop, Renee sat back with a smile, inhaling the much fresher air of her kitchen. She decided to make a few phone calls and start the ball rolling. She had lots to do.
Suddenly I’m motivated, she realized. She looked at the flowers again, smiling.
“Thanks, Matt,” she said aloud.
Chapter 26
Gift of a New Lens
“I’m done,” Renee told herself, “letting life just happen to me.”
She’d made some loose plans before heading to her parents for the holidays, hadn’t she? Well, she decided, now was the time to start putting more structure to those plans.
Molly was home now—George brought her home on Saturday—and was currently curled at Renee’s feet while a soft snow fell outside. Julie had called the night before and was back in the swing of classes and social life at the university. Renee was relieved to hear that Lincoln didn’t come back for second semester. In fact, Julie hadn’t heard a word from him since she turned her phone off and went to Fiji. She sounded happy and busy. I can cross that off my worry list, Renee decided. Robbie was playing junior varsity basketball, and it was taking up all his after-school time. Renee was taking him to a tournament on Friday.
So now it was time for Renee to start making her own plans. She was still intrigued by the structure written goals could provide. She’d never tried writing them down in the past, but all the self-help gurus insisted it was the way to go. Before Christmas, she had sketched out a brief framework of areas she knew needed more attention in her life.
What did she want her life to look like years into the future? Should she try to sketch out a rough plan for ten or twenty years out? Her husband had been gone a little over ten years; it felt like a lifetime. She was five years away from turning fifty—God, what a scary thought—and that seemed like a more reasonable timeframe to use to set her long-term goals, still keeping in mind her hopes and desires for an even longer view. She used to think fifty was ancient. Now it wasn’t too far off. Celia lived well into her nineties, she reminded herself. She needed to stop thinking she was getting old. She was just entering another phase in her life. What did she want to accomplish between now and then to make the second half of her life as rewarding as possible?
Focusing on the four major areas she had already identified, Renee designated one page for each area i
n the front of her journal. She labeled the pages Financial/Career, Relationships, Health, and Fun. Up until last month, she thought if she was careful about her finances, the rest would fall into place. Now she knew better. She spent the next two hours rounding out her goals on paper.
She knew she wanted to establish more than one stream of income going forward-no more reliance on one job. She would also find ways to reduce her debt and build up her safety net.
She would pay more attention to both her relationships and her health. Spending time with Matt reminded her how much fun it was to have a man in her life—even if it had only been for a few days. Her short time with Susan also made her realize she missed the company of girlfriends. It was sad she hadn’t felt compelled to call anyone in those days immediately after her layoff. She needed to stop taking her own health for granted. She’d joined a gym when she turned forty, but rarely went. There had been a six-month period when she joined a Zumba class. She loved the dancing and made new friends at sessions, but she let life interfere and slowly stopped going. And that had been . . .
“Two years ago?” she said. “Holy shit, Renee!”
She had only been to the gym a handful of times in the past year, even though she paid for it every month. What a waste! She needed to stop being so complacent.
A primary goal would need to be creating a lifestyle with lower stress levels. Less stress would probably mean fewer migraines, too. Now, that’s a plus.
She contemplated her goal of more fun. Their trip to Fiji had been a great event to kick off this commitment, so obviously more travel would be near the top of the list. She also wanted to get more comfortable with her personal appearance. She didn’t think she was being shallow to acknowledge this fact. She was tired of feeling haggard when looking in a mirror. Exercising and eating better would help, but how about cute hair, polished nails, less wrinkles? And more massages, she added wryly. How about flattering clothes? Sexy lingerie? A thought occurred to her: What lingerie would Matt like?
Whispering Pines (Celia's Gifts Book 1) Page 14