Before I Let You Go, page 3
“She might not have been around much, but she was family, Elsbeth. Come home. Your father and I are expecting you.” With that, Carol hung up.
“What was all that about?” Meaghan questioned, blowing a cloud of smoke into the atmosphere.
Elsbeth stared at her cell, the soft light illuminating the burning cigarette in Meaghan's fingers. “My great-aunt died and left me something in her will.”
“I hope it's a shitload of money,” Meaghan quipped. “You need a vacation. You're never going to move on if you're stuck here. Find your independence. Have fun. Be happy."
Elsbeth looped her arm through Meaghan's and they strolled to the taxi rank, shoulder to shoulder. “It's been years since I saw the woman. I'm dying to know what she left me, but at the same time, I'm scared too. For all I know, it could be her stamp collection.”
“You can sell those too, you know.”
Elsbeth laughed, a good, hearty laugh that reminded her how grateful she was to have a friend like Meaghan. “I can always rely on you to make me laugh,” she said. Elsbeth didn’t have many friends, so she clung to the ones she had—Meaghan was family. She hadn’t even signed the dotted line, but Elsbeth knew leaving Meaghan behind would create a void in her heart that would be impossible to fill.
An oppressive headache pulsed behind Elsbeth's right eye as she drove to her parents’ house the next morning. It was a reminder to never let Meaghan order drinks for her again.
A few minutes later, Elsbeth pulled up beside her mother's Toyota and counted to ten under her breath. She loved her parents but tried to avoid visiting whenever she could. Her relationship with them was seasonal at best. She’d always had a strong bond with her father, so watching his deteriorating health was hard to bear. On the other hand, her relationship with Carol was fickle, and difficult to define. Elsbeth had spent her entire life trying to please her mom, to make her proud, but nothing short of marrying Jeff would bring a smile to her mother's lips.
When Elsbeth entered the house, a blanket of darkness enveloped her. Two figures sat at the dining table, silhouetted in front of the drawn curtains. As she neared, she recognized Carol’s slim, willowy form and her father's diminishing frame, heavy bags shadowing his eyes in the faint light.
“Sleep's for the weak, kiddo,” her dad murmured, reading the concern on her face. He held a spoon in his hand, swirling the soggy, mashed cereal around his bowl.
Elsbeth registered a dullness behind his eyes that wasn’t there before today. The doctors promised her father had years ahead of him. That cancer inside him was slowly burning.
“Why are the curtains drawn? It's a beautiful day outside.” Carol cleared her throat and gathered the breakfast dishes from the table. “Bright light hurts your father's eyes. We eat like this every day.”
“Are you staying away from sweets like the doctor ordered, Daddy?” Elsbeth pulled a chair beside her father and squeezed his arm lovingly. Her breath quietly hitched in her throat when she discovered there wasn't much left to embrace. Her father had lost so much weight.
A faint, playful smirk lingered on her dad's lips. “I like to have a candy bar now and again.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “When your mother isn't looking.”
“I found your stash under the bed,” Carol called from the kitchen. “The doctor said you must stay clear of sugar, Robert. It's not doing you any good.”
The delicate skin around Elsbeth’s dad's mouth pulled downward. Seeing him like this was so unbearable that Elsbeth prayed there was something in Lorraine's will that would negate his fate, even for a second.
“Do you have the will, Mom?” she asked as Carol re-entered the room.
Her mother placed a glass of water in front of Elsbeth’s dad and slid a large envelope across the table with the other. “You'll find the instructions in here.” Her eyebrow cocked ever so slightly. “You must've made a lasting impression on her.”
Holding back her enthusiasm, Elsbeth opened the document and read the page Carol had flagged with a colored Post-it note. “I give my estate l’Île Céleste, subject to any mortgages or encumbrances thereon, to my niece Elsbeth Chevaleer. If she does not survive me, I give that property to Carol Anne Chevaleer. I hereby give Zara Chevaleer my stamp collection and three fur coats ...”
“What does it say, honey?” her dad asked.
“Lorraine left me her island property.” Elsbeth scanned the paperwork twice to ensure she was reading it correctly. A woman Elsbeth had barely known had bequeathed an opportunity for her to escape the train wreck that had become her life. “Guernsey's off the coast of Normandy, isn't it?”
A secluded island in a faraway land was the answer she was looking for.
“It's not a very big island,” Carol injected. “More like a spit on the map.”
“Have you been there before?” Elsbeth asked.
“A few times before I met your father.” She glanced adoringly at him. “Three years after we started dating, we vacationed at l'Île Céleste, where he proposed to me under an archway adorned with wisteria. It was very romantic.” A rare smile ghosted her lips. “You should take Jeff to the property. The ocean air would do him some good. He spends too much time inside.”
A lump formed in the base of Elsbeth's throat. “He won't be joining me. We broke up.”
Her father clicked his tongue, while her mother hissed through her teeth. “Oh, Elsbeth! What did you do?”
“Why do you assume it was my fault?” Elsbeth's voice rose an octave. “Jeff cheated on me! He was sleeping with a woman from his office.”
Carol curled her lip. “Did he break up with you, or did you do it?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant. The relationship is over. I just want to move past the pain.” Elsbeth gestured toward the will. “Maybe the island will give me the opportunity.”
“No, I will not allow you to accept this gift.” Her dad's injection silenced both women. Tears pooled in his pale eyes. “I want you to find happiness,” he told his daughter. “To get married and have babies. I don't want you to end up like Lorraine. A dead spinster.”
“Robert, stop being so morbid!” Carol exclaimed, opening the blinds. Beams of sunshine cast across the table. “Lorraine chose a life of celibacy and desolation, cutting herself off from the world. Your daughter just made a bad decision.”
Elsbeth wrapped her arms around her father's shoulders and held his fragile frame against her. He was the only thing keeping her anchored in this life. What was she going to do without him?
“Daddy, I'm happy. Breaking up has offered me a new perspective. I was chained to our relationship for three years, and now I have a chance to experience life. It won't be forever, Daddy. I’ll come back before ...” Her voice trailed off.
Her father squeezed her hand. “I don’t want you to end up like Lorraine, but I don't expect you to stay here if you’re unhappy. You don’t have to remain loyal to me, sweetheart. You're a bird, Elsbeth. Fly away.”
Elsbeth leaned over and kissed his cheek, his skin as cold as marble. “I think it would take more than your approval to convince me to go.”
“Your mom went on a cleaning spree last week and moved the family passports into the kitchen.” He winked. “Why don’t you look for them?”
“Dad, I don’t think ...” Elsbeth blew out a breath and pushed off the couch. She couldn’t argue with a dying man. Columns of sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, bright and buttery. Even in the darkest shadows, there would always be light.
Elsbeth opened the cupboard above the fridge and pushed aside food containers and cookbooks in search of the passports. “Mom, where did you put them?” She found a box buried at the back and pulled it down, locating the passports inside. She flicked through the documents and placed hers separate from the others. It had been years since she had left the country, focusing her time on renovating her house. An opportunity of a lifetime lay beyond the ocean and, for the first time in years, she was optimistic. Elsbeth gathered three mugs from the dishwasher and heated the kettle on the stove, flicking through her passport as the water boiled. She hardly recognized the young woman in the photo, unable to believe her former self would’ve ever predicted how her life would turn out. The kettle whistled and she grabbed it without a glance, cursing when hot water splashed onto her hand.
“Ugh, fuck!” She set the kettle back on the stove.
“You must be careful. You don't want to scald that beautiful skin of yours.” Carol appeared behind Elsbeth, reaching around her to turn on the faucet, then bringing Elsbeth's hands under the running cold water. “I know what it's like to have everything collapse around you,” she said quietly. “It tends to happen at the same time. Fate is clever like that. When your father's diagnosis came, it was like a freight train had hit me. I was powerless. Ashamedly, a little part of me wanted to flee.”
“I don't want to leave him.”
“Who said you were?” Carol mother turned off the water and snapped a tea towel from the kitchen bench.
“I considered moving away after what happened with Jeff. I just wasn't sure where, but everything is making more sense with Lorraine's will,” Elsbeth said, drying her hands. “I don't feel like myself anymore. The universe is screaming at me to take a chance."
“Come with me.” Carol picked up the passports from the counter and escorted Elsbeth to the living room, where she pulled out a photo album from the hutch. Dad was gone, presumably retreating to his room for his daily nap. “I have something to show you.”
Elsbeth sat in the indentation her father left in the plush cushion and swallowed the lump in her throat. She could already hear his reverberating snores from the bedroom.
Carol opened the photo album across her lap. “I took many photographs when I visited Guernsey with your father. L'Île Céleste is a spectacular piece of land.” She pointed at a Polaroid depicting an array of orange trees. “You would love the garden. Lorraine had a green thumb too. She spent much of her time out there, making it look beautiful.” She flipped the page. “Lorraine never had children. Her plants were family. She nurtured and watched them grow. She was legendary around the mainland.”
“Why's that?” Elsbeth asked.
“She lived like a hippy, growing her own food and wearing feathers in her hair. She was a free spirit, never wanting to be tied down by no one. That kind of lifestyle doesn't go unnoticed, so her death must've come as a shock to the locals.” Carol’s composure altered ever so slightly as renewed sadness welled. “I wish I made more of an effort to visit, especially when you and your sister were born. Summers would've been glorious there.”
“You miss her, Mom. There's no need to feel embarrassed about it.”
“I know. Even though she’s gone, I'm hoping you can connect with Lorraine in a way I never did.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon looking through old photo albums. The coastal islet was a slice of paradise with looming oak trees, swaying grasses, lush vines clinging to tree trunks, and bountiful bird life. Elsbeth grew excited to visit it, keen to adapt to the solitary lifestyle Lorraine had established.
“Is there any livestock on the property?” Elsbeth asked as she poured white wine into two glasses. She imagined it would be hard to find work on Guernsey, so she was eager to get her hands dirty and connect with the island. Maybe make some animal friends.
“There's not anymore. There was a caretaker from the mainland who visited fortnightly. He would transport her goats and chickens back to the mainland to be sold for meat,” Carol explained. “He was an older gentleman who had a little boy. I presumed it was his son. He must be your age now.”
“What's his name? I might be able to reach out when I get there.”
“It was something like Andy or Anthony.” Carol pinched the bridge of her nose, and her eyes squeezed shut. “No! It was Ambrose. I remembered thinking it was an uncommon name.”
“Is anyone looking after the property now?” Elsbeth asked. “Lorraine's been gone for a few weeks. The gardens would need tending.”
“I'm not sure. Lorraine's solicitor in Guernsey will give you the details.” Carol placed her glass on the side table. “Are you sure you're ready for this? It's a dramatic change of life. I understand breaking up with someone makes you question your choices, but Lorraine's estate is isolated, an hour from the mainland. What happens if something goes wrong? They won't be able to get you in time.”
“Mom, there's no need to worry about me. I'll go over and test the waters for a few months. If I don't think it's for me, I'll come home."
Carol curled her arms around Elsbeth's shoulders and held her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. A rare motherly gesture. “No matter what you think, you're still my little girl. Your father thinks the same way. We're not ready for our daughter to go away to a strange country.”
“It's Guernsey, not Beirut.”
“It's just as isolating.” Carol shut the photo album on her lap and added it to the pile, her subtle way of closing the conversation. “If you do decide to go, what will you do with your house? How long are you planning to be there? Zara won't want to take care of it while you’re gone.”
Elsbeth had been so engrossed in planning her trip that she'd momentarily forgotten about the home she’d lovingly restored, a part of her heart that continued to beat. She spent more time in that house than Zara did, so Elsbeth believed it was her right to do what she wanted with it. Her sister was the one who gave up.
“I’ve been thinking of selling the house, long before today.”
“Oh, that’s a huge decision, Elsbeth,” she said. “Your house is beautiful, and it’ll be a wonderful place to raise a family. I think you should keep it.”
“I’m craving change, Mom. A continental shift. I can’t help thinking that the breakup and Lorraine’s will happened for a reason. I’ve been offered my chance.”
“Perhaps sleep on it,” Carol suggested. “Do as you said, test the waters, take it as a vacation, then come back home and decide if you want to stay here or not. You’ve put so much love, tears, and money into your property to just walk away.”
“I haven't forgotten about the money you loaned me. I'll pay you back after the house is sold.”
“It's not about the money. Your sister needs to be a part of the decision-making too. I'd hoped the property could stay within the family. Perhaps Zara will move in if you decide to relocate.”
“I don't want her dogs tearing up my garden,” Elsbeth muttered.
It was a selfish thing to say, but she was suffering from a deluge of emotions. There was so much more than a Doberman eating her azaleas to worry about. She was indebted, not to her house, but to her father. They didn't know how much time he had left. She was terrified he would pass while she lived overseas. It felt like she was abandoning him when he needed her the most.
“I need to go,” she said, more so to herself than to her mother. “I don’t know for certain what I’ll do with the house yet. There’s still time.”
"Time for what?" Dad appeared in the doorway. A delicate rosy hue colored his cheeks. He looked better now that he'd rested. "You're doing this, Elsbeth. Do not stop living your life because of me. I would've killed to have this opportunity at your age. Lorraine left this estate to you for a reason." He sat down and captured her hands with his own, his fingers icy cold. "I believe things happen for a reason, and breaking up with Jeff opened a window you shouldn't close."
"He proposed and I rejected him." Elsbeth heard her mom suck in a sharp intake of breath over her shoulder. Thankfully, her father didn't flinch.
“I can't picture Jeff digging in the dirt or feeding the birds,” he said. “Coastal life wouldn't fit into his city aesthetics. You made the right decision in leaving him. It might not seem like it now, kiddo, but you have exciting times ahead of you.”
If it wasn't for the rare glint of joy in his eyes, Elsbeth might have not believed him. It was his way of giving permission, to set her free.
Elsbeth stood outside her parents' bedroom, reassessing her decision to leave. Her dad’s side of the bed was a stark reminder of his condition. Pill bottles and tissues lay atop the nightstand, and a bucket was on the floor, paired with a bedpan. She sucked in a breath and held it, her heart breaking. She couldn’t leave. Not now.
“If I knew you were going to snoop, I would’ve cleaned up.” Her father placed his hand on her shoulder to let her know he was there. Elsbeth attempted a smile. He never failed to make a joke out of a bad situation.
“It hurts so much to see you like this,” she replied softly, her voice breaking. “I wish I could put myself in your place.”
“Why would you say that?” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “I’ve grown to accept my sickness. You should too. You’ve been given a life-changing opportunity. I don’t want you to waste it.” When the tears fell from her eyes, he pulled her into a warm embrace. She cried harder at the feel of bones protruding from his body. “I don’t want you to delay life because of me. I will never forgive myself if you stay behind to watch me wither away.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “You’re far stronger than you know. You have my blessing, my darling girl.”
“I’m worried about Mom.”
“Your mother is tenacious, but she’s prepared. I have things in motion to ensure all of you will be taken care of.”
“I love you so much.” She took in what she could of him: banking his aroma of sweat and lavender to her memory, brushing her fingers across the fabric of his flannelette shirt. The emptiness in her gut was slowly being filled.
“I love you too, kiddo. Go to Guernsey. Meet the love of your life and have an experience you’ll never forget. I will never be too far away.”
CHAPTER 4
“You don’t need to sell the house.” Zara cursed under her breath, prying her heels from the damp grass. Her platinum blonde hair shimmered like mercury under the sun. “You won’t last one week in Guernsey before getting homesick.”
