PART 3 – At my grandmother’s will reading, my mother dug her nails into my arm and whispered

The porch light had been on when I got home. I’d thought I was the one who’d made that happen.

Sarah reached over and touched the paper with one finger. She didn’t say anything. Neither did I.

The brass key fit the back door. It turned without sticking.

For the next several weeks, the estate went through probate. My parents asked Mr. Caldwell for copies of every paper. Paul did call an attorney. I got a letter saying they might contest the amendment, then a second letter saying they wouldn’t. I never found out whether they ran out of money, ran out of reasons, or simply decided the cottage wasn’t worth the trouble.

The court accepted the amendment. The cottage and repair account passed to me. That part was settled.

The rest wasn’t.

My mother didn’t call. My father sent one message asking if I’d found anything else in the cottage that belonged to the family. I read it and didn’t answer. I knew I could have written back that the house had belonged to Nana, and she had decided who got it. I also knew I’d say it too sharply.

So I left it.

Sarah came over on Saturdays to help me sort what Nana had left. We found old photos, a shoebox of buttons, and a stack of grocery lists held together with a rubber band. There were no hidden diamonds, no extra bank account, no grand secret that changed the size of the inheritance. Just the house, the repair money, and the things Nana had touched every day.

I fixed the porch step first. It took one afternoon and two trips to the hardware store because I bought the wrong screws. I replaced the rattling fan the next week. I kept the old one in the garage longer than I should have, as if I might need to prove it had really been broken.

I also kept the red plastic cup by the sink.

I could have thrown it away. It had a crack in it, and Sarah said Nana wouldn’t care. She was probably right. Still, when I rinsed a paintbrush one day, I reached for that cup without thinking.

My parents’ living room is still the same, as far as I know. The cushions are still the kind you don’t sit on wrong. I haven’t been back since the will reading.

The cottage door is open most days now, at least while I’m there. I’m still working the power crew, so sometimes I’m gone for weeks. When I return, I use the brass key Nana left in the box.

The porch light is on. I haven’t changed it yet.