The ex’s new wife stormed into my late father’s house and said, “”Start packing.”” While I was pruning the garden roses, I let her talk… until she made the mistake that would ruin her.
“”You’d better start packing now, because once they read the will tomorrow, this house will be ours.””
Tabitha’s voice carried over the white rose bushes before I even looked up. Her expensive heels sank into the damp soil of my father’s garden as if she were walking a runway instead of the place where he had devoted so much of his life. I kept trimming the dead branches with my pruning shears, slowly, just as he had taught me when I was a little girl: with a steady hand, but never hurting the plant.
He planted those roses on the day I married Calvin. He said white symbolized fresh beginnings.
How ironic.
The bushes were still standing after witnessing the end of my fifteen-year marriage and the day my ex-husband left me for his assistant, the very woman now standing in front of me, wrapped in expensive perfume and arrogance.
“”Good morning, Tabitha,”” I said without giving her much attention.
She smiled with the fake sweetness she always used when she wanted to humiliate someone politely.
“”Tomorrow they’ll read Everett’s will. Calvin and I thought it would be better to have a civilized conversation before things get awkward.””
I wiped my hands on my gardening apron and stood up. Even with her ridiculous heels, I was taller.
“”There’s nothing to discuss. This is my father’s house.””
“”Your father’s estate,”” she corrected, savoring every word. “”And Calvin was like a son to him for many years. The least you could do is let us receive what we deserve.””
I felt the weight of the pruning shears in my hand.
“”You mean the same Calvin who cheated on his wife with his secretary?”” I asked quietly. “”That ‘son’?””
“”Oh, please. That’s ancient history,”” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “”Everett forgave him. They kept going to the club together every Sunday until the very end.””
The very end.
It had only been three weeks since we buried my father. Eight months earlier, he had been diagnosed with pancreatic can:cer, and everything had happened far too quickly. I never had enough time to tell him everything I wanted to say, or to ask why, during his final months, my brother Kyle had drifted away from me and grown closer to Calvin than to his own family.
“”My father didn’t leave Calvin anything,”” I said. “”He may have had his flaws, but he wasn’t a fool.””
For a brief moment, Tabitha’s smile faltered.
“”We’ll see tomorrow. Kyle doesn’t think so.””
A chill ran down my spine.
“”You’ve been talking to my brother?””
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
“”Let’s just say he helped me understand your father’s state of mind during his last few months.””
I gripped the shears so tightly my fingers hurt.
My father always used to say, “”Treat roses firmly, daughter, but never cruelly. Even thorns have a purpose.””
“”Get out of my house, Tabitha,”” I said. “”Before I forget my manners.””
She let out a dry laugh.
“”Your house? That’s adorable. This property is worth a fortune, Paige. Did you really think you were going to keep all of it? Living here like a queen while the rest of us just watched?””
“”My father built this house brick by brick. He planted every tree with his own hands. This isn’t about money. It’s his legacy.””
“”Wake up. Everything is about money,”” she shot back. “”Tomorrow you’re going to learn that the hard way.””
She turned to leave, but before walking out through the garden gate, she delivered one last blow.
“”Oh, and you should probably start packing your things. Calvin and I are remodeling as soon as we move in. We’re starting by ripping out these old-fashioned rose bushes. This whole place needs to look more modern.””
The sound of her heels faded down the path.
I looked down at the white flowers and realized I had crushed several petals with my dirt-covered hand.
I pulled out my phone and called immediately.
“”Ms. Penelope, it’s me,”” I said as soon as she answered. “”Tabitha came here to threaten me.””
Her tone changed instantly.
“”What exactly did she say?””
“”Exactly what we were afraid of. Can you come over? There’s something I need to check before tomorrow.””
“”I’m on my way,”” she replied. “”And don’t worry, Paige. Your father planned much further ahead than any of them.””
I hung up.
Then I noticed something tucked beneath one of the rose bushes, damp with the morning dew. I recognized my father’s handwriting instantly.
It was addressed to me.
I picked it up with trembling hands, feeling as though the envelope weighed far more than paper should, as if it carried not just words, but one final move in a game no one else knew he had been playing.
At that moment, I realized Tabitha had talked too much… and she had very likely just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Say “YES” if you’re ready for the next part and I’ll send it right away.
