Buzz Hollywood filed for bankruptcy.
The article Marjorie wrote for her magazine went to print two weeks ago and boy, you could almost hear the cheer coming from every Hollywood star who’s ever been hounded by the media.
That’s not to say they are all bad. Marjorie, for instance, is not bad. And Amy Stratton, the woman who hated Vaughn so much and who went to extraordinary lengths to ambush him with those ex-girlfriends at the Black Bash… she’s not evil either. She was looking for justice.
I hope she gets it with a new trial.
As for me?
I’m still looking for my purpose, but I’m getting closer. Rosa, that pregnant girl I picked up when I was lost in LA, inspired me. She made me think of all the times when I felt desperate as a teen. I was never pregnant and single at eighteen. And I got really lucky with a new family and a new life.
But it was a struggle. And there were many times when I just needed a little extra help. Bebe, of course, was that help most of the time. But I got other help too. Scholarships, for one. Obviously I never sold our farm to pay for college. I told that lie about selling a house to shut people up.
The truth is, I got a scholarship from the Colorado Sibling Fund. They are a non-profit organization who provide support for people whose siblings have been lost due to violent crime. They came to see me in the hospital that first year I was back. Before I ever got adopted, even. In fact, they were the ones responsible for bringing me out of my funk. People came to see me and talked about how they lost their siblings too. I wasn’t very nice to them, but they came anyway. And looking back, that was a turning point for me. They kept in contact with me, offering me that college scholarship when I was doing my senior year of homeschool.
I had a lot of help. So now it’s my turn to pay it back. I took all that money that Vaughn was putting in my bank account and gave it to the charity that was helping Rosa.
And then I decided to start a new non-profit. One that will teach inner-city girls to defend themselves if they are ever attacked. No one should have to go through what I did. No girl should ever feel helpless. They may not be able to win all the battles they will fight, but they need to have a fair chance.
That’s the mark I want to make on this world. To help people have a fair chance.
I think I’m over the past now. I think it’s time to let it go. And that’s why I’m sitting outside my Aunt Rachel’s house in northeastern Colorado.
I turn the car off and wait. It doesn’t take long before the curtain is parted and I see her sour face peering out at me. I don’t want to go inside. I want her to come to me. And if I have to sit here all day, I will.
It takes her twelve minutes, but she finally emerges from the front door.
I get out of the car and clutch my winter coat tightly around me as the cruel prairie wind whips past my face.
“What do you want?” she calls out as she steps down off the front stoop. “I told you to stay away from us.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the envelope. “I just wanted to give this to you.”
She takes a few steps forward. “What is it? Court papers?”
“No.” I shake my head at her. “Open it.”
She eyes me suspiciously, but she stretches out her hand and I place it in her palm. Her wary look never falters, even as she opens the envelope, removes the papers, and reads them.
“Why?” she finally asks.
“Because…” I take a deep breath. “Because I’m not Daisy Bryndle. I’m Grace Kinsella Asher. And that farm does not belong to me.”
She stares at me, but her frown never wavers. “You want me to say thank you?”
“No.” I shake my head again. “I just want to give that to you and say goodbye.” And then I turn and walk the few paces to my rental car and get back inside.
She watches me back out of the driveway, but she never lifts her hand to wave.
I’m not sure why she blames me for what happened. I was a child and did the best I could. But it’s not worth my time to even worry about it anymore.
Let her have the farm. I don’t want it and hopefully this gesture will help her move on as well.
No one should spend so many years being so miserable.
Epilogue
#PerfectionComesInManyPackages
ONE WEEK LATER
“I’M home!” I call out as I enter the house. “Vaughn?” His car is in the garage. I know he’s here, but the house is almost dark. And too quiet for someone to be here. It feels… empty. I make my way to the kitchen and set down the bags of groceries. “Vaughn?” I try again.
That’s when I notice the note on the fridge. Only the light over the oven is on, so I can’t make out what it says from here.
I sigh. “It’s Christmas Eve, for fuck’s sake.” The movie was supposed to wrap last week, but they’re behind schedule. I didn’t figure they’d be this behind though. I’ve kept myself busy with work all week to keep my mind off our upcoming vacation to Saint Thomas, but the truth is, I’m so excited I can’t stand it.
I put the groceries away and then grab the note and turn on the overhead light.
Good evening, sweets!
I smile so hard at that. God, I love him.
I got home early, so I decided to go on ahead and start our vacation without you. Don’t worry, there’s a driver waiting for you outside.
I run over to the front door and peek out. Sure enough, there’s headlights shining in at me. I look back down at the note, biting my lip to stop the smile. What is he up to?