Ava can’t get wrapped up with the fate of the inn. She’s still waiting to hear from Potter. She eats a piece of sausage and mushroom pizza; she watches her nephew Pierce put up hotels on St. James Place and Tennessee Avenue. Ava’s favorite property was always Marvin Gardens; she wonders why that was.
Finally her phone pings. Ava checks the screen. The text is from Scott Skyler. It says: Nathaniel just told me about your dad. I’m on my way over right now.
“No,” Ava says.
Everyone at the table looks up at her. She fakes a smile. “I’m going to my room to take a nap. I don’t want to be disturbed for any reason. Except if Dad wakes up. That’s the only reason. Is everyone clear on that?”
“Clear,” Drake says. “Allegra, it’s your turn.”
Allegra rolls the dice.
Ava must fall asleep, because the next thing she knows, someone is tapping on her door. She sits up. It’s getting dark outside, but that doesn’t mean it’s late; today is the shortest day of the year.
“Come in?” Ava says.
Margaret pokes her head in. “Ava, sweetie?”
Ava starts to cry. Kelley must be awake, and they’ve agreed they will go see him in reverse order of birth. Bart first, then Ava, then Kevin, then Patrick. See him, however, is merely a euphemism for say good-bye, and Ava can’t say good-bye to her father.
She just can’t.
“Mommy?” Ava says. Margaret is a competent, strong woman; she is a fixer. She needs to fix this. Let’s go back, Ava thinks. Back to Ava’s first memory of Kelley, of her parents together. She was three or four years old. Kelley came home from work and Margaret embraced him. They were kissing, and Ava made a tunnel of their legs and crawled through.
“There’s someone here for you,” Margaret says. “Can you come out, please?”
Someone here for her? Scott! Ugh! Margaret wasn’t in the kitchen when Ava said she didn’t want to be disturbed, and for whatever reason, Margaret has always been a fan of Scott.
“I don’t want to,” Ava grumbles.
“Oh, I think you do,” Margaret says.
Dutifully, Ava gets to her feet and follows Margaret down the hall.
The living room is empty. Everyone is in the kitchen; from the sound of things, Ava’s nephew Barrett is going bankrupt.
And then Ava sees Potter, standing over by the Christmas tree. He gets down on one knee and holds out a velvet box, in which is nestled a diamond ring.
“Ava Quinn,” he says. “Will you marry me?”
When the time comes, an hour later, for Ava to go in and see her father, she does so alone, with the ring on her left hand.
She sits in the chair next to Kelley’s bed. Kelley’s eyes are open, but Ava knows he can’t see anymore. Mitzi is on the other side of the bed, holding Kelley’s hand.
“It’s Ava, honey,” Mitzi says. “Ava is here. She has something to tell you.”
“I’m getting married, Daddy,” Ava says. “Potter asked me to marry him, and I said yes.” Ava holds Kelley’s other hand and tries not to think about walking down the aisle without this man at her side. She gets to have this moment with him; she gets to tell him the news. She is grateful for this, so grateful.
Kelley makes a sound. Maybe it’s a breath or a sigh, Ava thinks, but maybe he’s trying to speak.
I’m so happy for you, Ava. My little girl.
“I love you, Daddy,” Ava says.
She squeezes his hand, and a trace of a smile crosses Kelley’s lips.
MARGARET
Time remains a mystery to Margaret. A game of Monopoly can consume an afternoon, and an hour on the treadmill seems like forever. But a lifetime passes in an instant.
On Thursday evening Lara, the hospice nurse, comes into the kitchen.
“It won’t be long now,” she says.
Margaret stands in the hallway outside of Kelley’s room as first Bart, then Ava, then Kevin, and finally Patrick go in to say good-bye to their father. Margaret has witnessed all kinds of difficult things in her life, but nothing quite as difficult as seeing her grown children crying when they emerge from the room.
When Patrick comes out, he says, “It’s your turn, Mom.”
Margaret didn’t think she would take a turn. It seems selfish and maybe even improper. Mitzi is in the room, at Kelley’s bedside, where she should be. She’s his wife. Margaret is… who is Margaret to Kelley anymore? His former wife? The mother of his three older children?
His best friend, she thinks. She has known him longer than anyone.
Drake appears beside her. The Monopoly game must have finally ended. As if reading the indecision on Margaret’s face, Drake says, “Go in and say good-bye. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
Margaret nods. He’s right, of course. She cracks open the door and sees Mitzi standing by the bed, holding Kelley’s hand, staring lovingly at his face.
“Is he awake?” Margaret asks. “Or…?”
Mitzi nods and beckons Margaret forward.
“He asked for you,” Mitzi says.
He did? Margaret thinks. Kelley can no longer speak, so it’s not likely he “asked” for Margaret, but Margaret is grateful for the lie, or the exaggeration, or the intuition. Maybe Mitzi feels that if Kelley could talk, he would ask to see Margaret. In some strange way, this whole story—the inn, the kids, even his marriage to Mitzi—started back in New York City on the day that Kelley and Margaret met.
Margaret leans down so that her voice is in Kelley’s ear.
“Hey there, old friend,” she says. “It’s Maggie. I just want to say…” Here, Margaret chokes up. She takes a moment to compose herself and squeezes Kelley’s hand. “I want to say thank you, Kelley Quinn. For all the years we had. For our three remarkable, miraculous children. And for your love. Because despite everything, there was always love.”
Kelley’s eyelids flutter.
Margaret kisses Kelley’s cheek, then she releases his hand. She backs up a step at a time, and she watches as Mitzi climbs into the hospital bed with Kelley and rests her head on his chest.
She’s going to hold him until he passes, Margaret thinks. It’s beautiful and right—but it’s also really, really sad. Tears flow silently down Margaret’s face.
Drake is standing in the open doorway, waiting for her. He puts an arm around her shoulder, but he knows not to rush her out. She looks into Drake’s eyes.
“I never thought it would end,” she says.
“I know,” Drake says.
But does he know? Margaret turns to take one last look at Kelley, but the person she sees in the bed is herself, in the moments after she gave birth to Patrick. The baby had just been laid on Margaret’s chest, and Kelley was next to her, both beaming and weeping.
“We have a son, Maggie,” he said. “A healthy baby boy.”
Margaret remembers how it felt to hold a newborn, the love expanding inside her until she was sure she would burst. Life seemed like a golden ribbon, unspooling into eternity. They were parents. It was all just beginning.
“Come to bed,” Drake says.
“Yes,” Margaret says. “Okay.” She knows it’s the right thing to do. She follows Drake out into the hallway and closes the door behind her, leaving Kelley and Mitzi in peace.