Chapter 14 - THE LETTER FROM GRANDMA
That evening, after the guests had gone and the last folding chair had been stacked away, Morgan found a small envelope tucked inside her grandmother's old recipe box.
She had been searching for the cinnamon cookie recipe when she noticed it.
The envelope was yellowed with age.
Across the front, in Clara's familiar handwriting, were four words.
For Morgan, Someday.
Morgan sat down immediately.
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
My dearest Morgan,
If you're reading this, you've probably found your way back to the cottage.
I hope the apple trees are still growing. I hope the porch still catches the afternoon sun. And I hope you've remembered to open the windows when the weather is nice.
Morgan smiled through sudden tears.
There is something I want you to know.
You were never difficult to love.
Not when you were a little girl who asked too many questions. Not when you were a teenager who worried about disappointing everyone. And not now, whatever age you are when you read this.
You have always been enough.
Morgan pressed her hand over her mouth.
She kept reading.
I know you have a generous heart. I love that about you. But promise me something.
Don't spend your whole life giving away the things you need in order to keep other people comfortable.
Kindness is a gift. It should never become a debt you owe the world.
And if someone makes you feel that you must lose yourself to keep their love, remember that you always have a place here.
The door is yours.
The trees are yours.
The future is yours.
And no matter where life takes you, my love goes with you.
Forever,
Grandma Clara.
Morgan read the letter three times.
Then she carried it onto the porch.
The sky had turned a deep purple.
Fireflies flickered beyond the orchard.
Eleanor sat in the rocking chair, a blanket across her knees.
Daniel was inside washing the last of the dishes.
Morgan handed Eleanor the letter.
"She knew," Morgan whispered.
Eleanor read it slowly.
When she finished, she held the paper against her heart.
"Your grandmother was a wise woman."
Morgan sat beside her.
"I wish I could tell her what happened."
Eleanor looked toward the apple trees.
"Maybe the best way to tell her is to keep living the life she hoped you'd have."
Morgan considered that.
Then she smiled.
"I think she'd like you."
Eleanor laughed softly.
"Oh, I think Clara and I would have been trouble together."
May you like
Morgan laughed, too.
And for a while, they sat beneath the porch light, imagining two stubborn elderly women sharing coffee, trading stories, and making sure nobody ever took advantage of the people they loved.
