Chapter 9 - A New Foundation
Six months later, the spring sun was warm enough to melt the last lingering patches of winter snow, replacing them with bright green grass and blooming dogwood trees.
The grand, sterile estate my father had loved so much looked entirely different now.
We hadn't sold it, not yet. Instead, we had gutted the cold, intimidating formality of the interior. The heavy velvet drapes had been replaced with light, airy linen. The stiff, uncomfortable antique furniture had been moved into storage, replaced by cozy couches, colorful rugs, and shelves overflowing with children’s books, art supplies, and board games.
Out in the expansive backyard, a brand-new wooden treehouse stood proudly beneath the branches of an old oak tree.
And barking happily across the lawn was a golden retriever puppy with floppy ears and entirely too much energy, chasing a red rubber ball thrown by a very excited nine-year-old girl.
“Mom! Look how fast Buster runs!” Maisie yelled, laughing as the puppy tumbled over its own paws in the grass.
I sat on the wide wooden porch swing, a cup of coffee steaming in my hands, smiling as I watched her.
My phone buzzed on the small side table beside me. I glanced down at the screen. It was an email from a local community college downtown. My application to finish my degree in architectural design had officially been accepted for the fall semester.
No one was telling me I couldn't do it. No one was laughing at my ambitions. No one was keeping score behind my back.
A shadow fell across the porch steps, but it wasn't the heavy, suffocating shadow of my past.
It was just the warm spring breeze rustling the leaves above, carrying the sound of my daughter’s laughter across a yard that finally belonged to us.
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I took a sip of my coffee, leaned back against the cushions, and smiled.
We were going to be just fine.
