Chapter Four

When Sage walked into the house at just after two in the morning, she found Otis in the basement, lying in the center of her bed. He hopped down and stood in front of her. His tail wagged so fiercely, it moved his entire hind end. How he stayed standing considering he was a lopsided tripod surprised Sage.

Despite the tears that threatened to spill, she couldn’t help but smile and laugh a little when he rolled onto his back for another belly rub.

“I wish my life was as simple as yours, buddy.” She scratched his stomach, and he groaned. “How about some tea?”

Otis bolted up and took off for the top of the stairs, where she knew he’d wait. The word tea to a dog must have sounded like treat, and that was a word he recognized.

Sage changed into sweats and an oversize T-shirt. She slipped the pink envelope out of the side pocket of her purse and brought it with her.

At the top of the stairs, Otis danced with excitement. They entered the kitchen with wants, or maybe it was needs. Sage wanted a cup of calming chamomile tea, while Otis appeared as if he needed a treat. Once the needs and wants were satisfied, they met up on the couch, where Sage stared at the envelope she turned in her hand and weighed in her palm. More than a few pages for certain.

“Why do you think she wrote me a letter?” She wrapped the brute of a dog in a hug, but he was already out. His deep breaths turned into a soft snore. While two in the morning was the beginning of the day for Sage, it was right in the middle of Otis’s twenty-three hour nap.

Fear mixed with vulnerability made her stomach clench and twist. She pressed the envelope to her chest and curled up like a baby next to Otis. His fur lent the warmth her body needed. His presence made her feel less alone.

She thought about the woman who had made a difference in her life. A big difference, if she counted the fact that she’d lost her job.

“Sage?” Lydia called from the top of the second story staircase. “Is that you?”

Sage wiped at her sore, swollen eyes and croaked out, “Sorry I woke you.”

Words barely out, Lydia was down the stairs and edging Otis off the couch. He curled up in front of the fireplace that hadn’t seen a flame in years.

“Who died?”

Sage pulled herself up. “Am I really that bad?”

Lydia tilted her head.

The lack of response told Sage everything. She let out a ragged exhale. “Bea Bennett.”

“Let me get some tea, and we’ll talk.” Lydia disappeared into the kitchen. The cupboards opened and closed, and the microwave beeped.

All the while, Sage looked at the envelope in her hand.

The couch dipped under Lydia’s weight. She faced Sage, pulled her knees to her chest, and sipped at her tea. “Was that the nice old lady with the bad heart?”

“Yes.” Sage gripped the hem of her T-shirt and dabbed at her tender eyes. At what point would she run out of tears? For those she cared about, there seemed to be an endless supply.

“I’m sorry, I know you were fond of her.”

Sage had told Lydia little about Bea, since they almost never had time to sit down and chat. Lydia worked around the clock, and Sage worked four ten-hour shifts a week. They were literally bodies that handed off Starbucks and hugs as they passed in the night, but she had mentioned her once or twice because Bea was important.

“It’s more than just her. Of course, I’m sad she passed. I feel it nearly as deep as Grandma’s death. She reminded me of her. A little vinegar and a lot of honey in her personality.” She set the papers down and reached for her lukewarm tea, mimicking her sister’s body language. Curled into a tight ball, she faced Lydia. “As if that’s not enough, I’ve been put on unpaid administrative leave until they can find me a new position.” She explained to Lydia the events of the evening.

Her sister stared at her like she was determining the correct diagnosis or dosage for meds. Lydia set her mug down and leaned forward, putting her chin on her knees.

“I can’t say I disagree with Mr. Cross. Having you work in the geriatric ward was a bad idea from the beginning.”

The grumble Sage let loose came from the most wounded part of her heart. “I wanted to be there when Grandma died.”

Her sister shook her head. “I know, but the problem is, you think you can save everyone, but you can’t.”

A louder growl ripped from Sage’s throat. “You sound like Mr. Cross. I don’t have a savior complex.”

Lydia laughed and reached out to pat her sister on the head. “No? What about that time you gave our belly-up goldfish CPR? Then there was that butterfly with a broken wing that you patched together with Scotch tape.” She looked at Otis, who was back to snoring in front of the cold fireplace. “Should I continue?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll confess to wanting to save Otis.” She closed her eyes to picture the fish she’d called Flip, and the nameless, broken-winged butterfly. “I gave CPR to the fish and tried to save a butterfly, but I’m not on a crusade to save everyone and everything. I just want to make a difference.”

“Ah, sis, you do. You make a difference in so many lives. I wish you could see how special you are.” Lydia cupped her sister’s cheek the same way their mother did when they were little. It was a touch of affection Sage missed.

“They were all special, Lydia. Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Bea were special, and they all left without a goodbye.”

“They didn’t have a choice.” Lydia pointed at the envelope. “Are you going to open this?”

Sage nodded. She picked up the envelope, slipped her finger under the flap, and tore it open. She unfolded a few pink pages to find several sheets of white paper stapled together. On the first page, right under the bank name, were the words “Property Deed.” The next line gave the address of 1 Lake Circle, Aspen Cove, Colorado. The next line showed Sage Nichols as the owner. Bea Bennett had left her a property.

“Oh. My. God. She left me a property.” The deed fell to her lap. Why?

She had only known her for a brief four weeks. Four weeks were not enough. Not enough for Sage, and not enough for Bea to leave her something like this.

She pulled the pink pages forward to read the letter.

 

My dearest Sage,

The time has come where I must leave. I always thought being left behind would be harder, but when I look around and see the people I have to let go, it nearly breaks my already broken heart again.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’d leave you with B’s Bed and Breakfast. You need it, and Aspen Cove needs you.

I approached this gift as I do with everything else in my life. I jotted down all the reasons it was right. And this is right, Sage. I know in my heart you will come to love the little town of Aspen Cove as much as I do.

With love and hope,

Bea

 

She went to the next page, where in Bea’s fine script was the title One Hundred Reasons, and beneath it she’d made a list that started with 1. You need to live a little and ended with 100. Aspen Cove needs you.

Sage dropped the pages to her lap and cried.

“What is it?” Lydia scooted closer.

Curved fingernails left crescent moons in the palm of Sage’s hands. “All I did was my job with Bea, and look what she gave me.” She arranged the pages in order and handed them to her sister.

Lydia looked through them one by one. Her eyes grew big. She glanced up, grinned, then laughed. Not a smile or small giggle more appropriate for a somber moment, but a full-on belly laugh. When she finished, she said, “She left you a house, and you don’t think you made a difference?” Lydia put the pages down and moved to curl into Sage’s side. She pulled one of their grandma’s crocheted throws from the back of the sofa and covered them both. “I massaged a man’s heart for over an hour yesterday, and I didn’t even get a thank you, nonetheless a house. Today, I went to check on him, and he told me I should have been more gentle because I bruised him.”

An unexpected giggle burst from Sage’s lips. “Did you tell him he could have been dead and to stop complaining?”

“Oh yeah, I screamed at him silently inside my head and gave him the imaginary finger while I smiled at his wife and upped his pain meds.”

Sage tugged the throw to her chin. “Do you ever tire of being a doctor?”

Lydia leaned her head on Sage’s shoulder. “I still love it, although it’s not all it’s pumped up to be.” Her shoulders shook with another bout of laughter. “I expected it to be glamorous. I was told I’d be rich. All lies.” She untucked her arms from the blanket and gave the room a wide sweep of her hands. “Look at me. I live in a two-story tract home with my uber-rich, super cheap boyfriend and my sister who would be happy to live with her handicapped dog in my basement for the rest of her life.”

Sage pulled back and frowned. “That’s not true.”

“Which part?”

She looked at Otis, then whispered, “Hush, he doesn’t know he’s handicapped.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not.” Indignation colored Sage’s voice, but it was a welcome change from the sound of sadness. “You act like I’m that guy from Failure to Launch. The movie where Matthew McConaughey lives with his parents and doesn’t want to leave the comfort and convenience of living at home. Let me remind you that you asked me to come live here after Todd and I broke up.” Sage yanked on the blanket and wrapped the lion’s share of it around her body.

“Really? You want to go there? You didn’t leave your bed for weeks except to pull your shift at the hospital.”

“I was tired.” Sage knew Lydia was right. When Todd told her he’d taken a job out of state, she was stunned. She didn’t even know he’d been looking. When she asked him about their relationship, he laughed and told her it was fun while it lasted. “Okay.” She relented. “I was broken up, but I’d given him everything for three years.” He’d abandoned me.

“And therein lies the problem. You give everyone everything. You have nothing left for yourself. Isn’t it time you did something for you? You’re thirty years old. Start living, Sage. Staying in my basement isn’t really living.” She pointed to the papers. “Maybe this is the opportunity you need. What do you have to lose? Go see the place.”

“I don’t even know where it is.”

“Does it really matter? Bea gave you a gift. The least you can do is check it out. It might be everything you want. If not, you can sell it and come home. Just go. It might make you happy.”

Leaving Lydia’s terrified Sage, but maybe she was right. She was always the voice of reason.

“Are you happy, Lydia?” Sage wrapped her arms around her big sister and squeezed.

“Oh . . . you know . . . I’m as happy as a girl who works herself to near death can be.”

Leaving her sister would be hard. She was all Sage had. Then again, she couldn’t depend on her sister for her own happiness. One look around, and she had to admit only to herself that she had overstayed her welcome.

“I’ll go, but don’t rent out my room just yet. I might be back.”

“Okay, but if Matthew McConaughey wants to rent your room, I’m letting him.”

“Never gonna happen, but what will you do once I’m gone?”

Lydia maintained a neutral expression. “I’ll do what Terry Bradshaw did in the movie—get a big fish tank and turn your space into a naked room.” Lydia couldn’t contain her stoicism any longer. She let out the laughter Sage was sure to miss.

“Do nothing with my space until I’m settled somewhere.” Sage was certain she’d get to Aspen Cove and turn right around, but she owed it to Bea and herself to take a look.