“I just love the crisp feeling in the air,” said Diane. “But it’s the colors I love most of all. The rich reds and deep oranges. The world feels like it’s on fire, but in the most beautiful way. Cassie loves it too, especially now that we have a dog. We all go on walks together in the evenings when I get home from work.”
“I imagine Cassie is missing you this week. I’m sure you’re anxious to get home to see her, aren’t you?”
“I am. You know, I was lying in bed last night, thinking. This is the longest I’ve ever been apart from her.” She paused for a moment, watching a squirrel as it darted across the lawn, its bushy tail flicking wildly. “I wish she could have seen this place. She would have loved it, especially the ocean. She’s never been.”
“Then you’ll have to bring her by for a visit the next time you’re out this way. You’re both welcome here anytime.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
There was a pause in our conversation as we both took comfort in the peaceful silence of the old house. It had a way of soaking up noise, leaving only the pleasant hum of quiet at midday.
After finishing lunch, Diane and I stepped out to get some fresh air and took a walk around the property. She marveled at the beautiful gardens and the various fruit trees scattered throughout. We made our way down to the beach, where we watched the waves crash against the shore and seagulls swooping down to catch fish.
“I noticed the little sign hanging on the gate leading to the cottage— ‘Rosie’s Place.’ Did you put it there in her memory?”
“I wanted that cottage to be a place where I could go to not only think about the present and future, but also the past. And there was no one more important to my past than Rosie. So, I had that little sign put there on the gate to remind me of her. I know it sounds silly, but somehow I feel closer to her when I’m there.”
“It doesn't sound silly,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the distant cottage. “It sounds like love.”
We walked on, each lost in our own thoughts. The beach was empty except for us and a lone seagull cawing overhead.
“You know, when I saw that picture of the three of you, I felt a connection to Rosie, as if she was trying to tell me something. I get that way sometimes. Like, when I was younger, I always felt like there was this presence, someone watching over me, leading me toward something. It’s hard to explain but seeing that picture brought back the same feeling.”
“I feel that way sometimes, too. I would like to believe that Rosie is indeed there somewhere, still watching over me and Judy.” My eyes drifted toward the horizon, where the ocean and the sky merged into one. “That brings me a sense of comfort, and in a strange way, it feels like a piece of her is still here.”
As we made our way back up to the house, Diane suddenly stopped in her tracks and turned toward me.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Of course.”
“Do you ever dream about her?”
“All the time,” I admitted, a wistful smile etching across my face as countless memories flooded my mind. “I dream of her laughter, her touch, the way she used to dance around the kitchen when she was cooking. I dream of her feisty spirit and her gentle heart.”
“I dream of my mother sometimes,” Diane said as we stepped up onto the back porch. “Even though I never met her, I have this image in my mind of what I think she may have looked like. Her hair, her face, her eyes. I think they would have been brown, like mine.”
“I think that’s beautiful,” I replied, feeling a deep connection to Diane in that moment.
“Oh,” Diane said, her expression brightening as if she had just remembered something. “I forgot to ask if you and Andrew ever had any children. I didn’t see any pictures in the house.”
The question brought a wave of emotion washing over me. “No, we didn’t. We tried for a while, but…it just never happened.” I paused, allowing myself to confront the hidden sorrow that lingered in the corners of my heart.
“I’m sorry,” said Diane, her voice holding a tinge of remorse. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive subject.”
I shook my head, mustering up a small smile. “It’s all right. Some people just aren’t meant to have children. And Andrew and I lived a fulfilling life together. We enjoyed each other’s company, traveled to places I only dreamed of as a kid, and we poured our love into the world in our own ways. We had each other, and that was enough. Besides, it may have been a blessing in disguise.
“How so?”
I took a deep breath, collecting my thoughts. “I’m going to tell you something, but you must promise not to say anything to anyone else. And you can’t write about it.”
“Okay,” she replied, a look of worry etched into the lines around her eyes. “I promise.”
“When you first arrived, you asked me why I wanted to tell my story, why now. The truth is, I’m sick, and I don’t know how much time I have left before my mind starts to deteriorate.”
Diane’s face fell, taking a moment to find the right words. “It’s Huntington’s, isn’t it?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. “Yes,” I finally managed to whisper. “The same disease that took my mother, and her mother before her. The same disease that will someday take me.”