Winter Garden

“I know better than to make promises to the dying. Now you have learned this lesson, too. ” She stood up, her shoulders only a little stooped. “It would break your father’s heart to hear you two fighting. You are lucky to have each other. Act like it. ” Then she walked out of the room.

They heard her door slam shut upstairs.

“Look, Nina,” Meredith said after a long silence. “I don’t give a shit about her fairy tales. I’ll take care of her because I promised Dad and because it’s the right thing to do. But what you’re talking about—trying to get to know her—it’s a kamikaze mission and I’ve crashed once too often. Count me out. ”

“You think I don’t know that?” Nina said. “I’m your sister. I know how hard you tried with her. ”

Meredith turned abruptly back to the stove, attacking the melted pot as if treasure lay beneath it.

Nina got up and went to her sister. “I understand why you put her in that terrible place. ”

Meredith turned. “You do?”

“Sure. You thought she was going looney tunes. ”

“She is looney tunes. ”

Nina didn’t know what to say, how even to frame her opinion so that it made sense. All she knew was that she’d lost some essential piece of herself lately, and maybe fulfilling the promise to her father would help her get it back. “I’m going to get her to tell me that fairy tale—all of it—or die trying. ”

“Do what you want,” Meredith said finally, sighing. “You always do. ”

At work, Meredith tried to lose herself in the everyday minutiae of running the orchard and the warehouses, but nothing she did was right. It felt as if there were a valve in her chest tightening with every breath she took. The pressure building up behind it was going to blow any minute. After the third time she yelled at an employee, she gave up and left before she could do more damage. She tossed a packet of papers on Daisy’s desk, said tensely, “File this, please,” and walked away before Daisy could ask a question.

She got in her car and just drove. At first she had no idea where she was going; somewhere along the way, she found herself following an old forgotten road. In some ways, it led back to her youth.

She parked in front of the Belye Nochi gift shop. It was a lovely little building set back from the highway and ringed by ancient, flowering apple trees.

Long ago, it had been a roadside fruit stand; here, Meredith had spent some of the best summers of her life, selling their ripe, perfect apples to tourists.

She stared through the windshield at the white clapboard building, its eaves strung with white lights. Come summer, there would be flowers everywhere—in planters by the door, in baskets on the porch, twined up the fence line.

It had been her idea to convert this fruit stand into a gift shop. She still remembered the day she’d approached Dad with the plan. She’d been a young mother with a baby on each hip.

It’ll be great, Dad. Tourists will love it.

That’s a killer idea, Meredoodle. You’re going to be my shining star. . . .

She’d poured her heart and soul into this place, choosing every item they sold with exquisite care. And it had been a rousing success, so much so that they’d added on twice and still they didn’t have enough room to sell all the beautiful souvenirs and crafts made in this valley.

When she’d quit the gift shop and moved into the warehouse, it had been to make her father happy.

Looking back on it now, that was when it had begun, this life of hers that seemed to be about everyone else. . . .

She put the car in reverse and drove away, wishing vaguely that she hadn’t stopped by. For the next hour, she just drove, seeing the changes spring had made on the landscape. By the time she pulled into her own driveway, it was dusk, and the view was slowly darkening.

Inside the house, she fed the dogs and started dinner and then took a bath, lying in the water so long it grew cold.

She was still so confused and upset by today’s events that she didn’t know what to do or what to want. All she really knew for sure was that Nina was screwing everything up, making Meredith’s life harder. And there was no doubt in her mind that it would all collapse into a big fat mess that Meredith would have to clean up.

She was sick to death of being where the buck stopped.

She dried off and slipped into a pair of comfortable sweats and left the bathroom. As she was toweling off her hair, she glanced at the big king-sized bed along the far wall.

She remembered, with a sharp longing, the day she and Jeff had bought that bed. It had been too expensive, but they’d laughed about the expense and paid for it with a credit card. When the bed had been delivered, they’d come home from work early and fallen onto it, laughing and kissing, and christening it with their passion.

That was what she needed now: passion.

She needed to rip off her clothes and fall into bed and forget all about Nina and Mom and nursing homes and fairy tales.