Epilogue
Alicia
My aunt had something in the words she’d never gotten to say. Passing away on Grayden’s birthday, she’d never been able to tell him some of the most important words either of us had ever heard, though, I think in Gray’s heart he knew. She spoke of family to him. She was his family, and in those words, they not only set him free but myself as well. My aunt’s will had only talked about her property going to her last remaining kin, speaking of no one in the specifics. I had been blood related yes, and naturally, her estate planner had come for me, but I was a lawyer, a good one, and came from a practice of many who could back me up in any way I needed. We’d been able to spin the wording of her will, stretch it, and pass it on to all deserving. I owned the right to my aunt’s property and estate.
But so did a little girl and her dad.
With those specifics, I couldn’t legally act on selling her land without the permission of every party involved, and as it turned out, Gray and his daughter didn’t want to sell my aunt’s estate.
I’d never let him.
The contracts with the developers shredded basically overnight, and an old woman’s property and land technically owned by three were given use to a whole town. Everyone in Mayfield had rights to what Josephine’s property had to offer, her living on in every townsperson or local who just wanted to come and see it. Her house had many visitors, a staple and highlight when one came to visit Mayfield. We even had a billboard on the highway to get people to come—Gray’s idea and it worked swimmingly. Well, with all the traffic to the local landmark a family couldn’t possibly stay there and we didn’t.
Gray built a house for us.
It’d been our place and it felt fitting, Josephine’s house was for the town of Mayfield and the house Gray built for Laura and me had been for us. It was our piece of this town, a place of love we could call our own. He’d made it three stories, a full basement, and even a large work shed for himself in which he spent many hours, his hobby making small trinkets and gadgets which sold at the country general store downtown. He built Laura’s dollhouse in there, a huge home and safe haven for her dolls. I loved that element of the house, but my favorite place I had to say was the sunroom. I got to play piano out there every morning, Laura eating breakfast while Gray had his coffee.
His arms swung around me this morning, our baby between us while I played for our two children at the piano. I formally adopted Laura after the paperwork for her name change went through. I became a Davenport myself shortly before, our wedding quick but in the spring. We didn’t want to wait, our only hesitation to get things with Laura and her dad situated. She’d legally become his one year after my aunt’s passing, his birthday.
“You will only have the best cake baked for you…”
Little did she know his ultimate gift would be even better. Our baby was expected in the summer, a little boy we decided to name Joseph after my aunt who brought us together. Eventually, my belly wouldn’t allow me to play anymore in my sunroom, but that’d be okay.
Like Laura knew I needed a break, she hopped up from her seat at the lounger, her cereal bowl from breakfast this morning empty. Taking a seat beside me on the piano bench, the nine-year-old leaned over, kissing my skirt-clad belly. The quickening flutters of her brother alerted me he knew his sister was there, my smile making her grin.
“What does Joseph want to hear today?” she asked, stretching out her fingers above the keys. She asked that every morning, but she knew the answer every time.
Coming around me, Gray took the seat he placed strategically on my other side, the chair brought in from the kitchen one day, but never returned. He wanted his place too at the piano, his arm sweeping around my waist.
I’d never get over how happy he looked all the time, the weight of the world completely evaporated from his light-colored eyes. He’d let it go. He let it all go. He healed and even his beard was gone, his jaw clean-shaven and his hair never longer than the shell of his ears. He had me to help him keep up with it, allowing me the honor of taking on some of those obligations for him. He didn’t have to do everything by himself and it wasn’t just that he knew that now.
But welcomed the assistance and love.
His lips on my cheek, he closed his eyes, touching his forehead to me before swinging fingers over and brushing Laura’s shoulder.
“Play Josephine’s Song,” he said, the tune Laura herself had actually composed. It’d been with my help, composition classes I’d taken in school a lifetime ago. It’d been an honor to bring the knowledge out and the song had become a staple at church every Sunday, the lead-in to the service. Laura played every week and the town loved her for it.
Curling up under Gray’s arm, I rested my head on his chest, watching his daughter, our daughter lead us into what I knew to be another perfect morning. We had so many perfect ones, my highlight before I started my day in town, my own practice right in the heart of it all. People called me crazy for doing that, giving up my potential six-figure salary by working somewhere close to Mayfield but bigger, my own family amongst them. But sometimes it wouldn’t hurt people to allow a little crazy into their lives. It allowed for the best life and chances we never would have taken. I took a chance on this town and made friends, created family, my friend Ava amongst them all. She’d been the dearest friend I ever had and probably ever would have, something I found out once I allowed myself to forgive her. It took a little while, but we came back to each other. Just like we had when we were kids, two people who hadn’t seen each other for almost two decades but were able to reconnect and find a friendship that would take us long into the rest of our lives.
And if not for this town and a woman named Josephine I wouldn’t have any of it. Gray and Laura told me on separate occasions she sent me to them, but only I knew the truth. I wasn’t sent to them.
They were sent to me.