Let him go, Lizzy.
FORTY-FOUR
August 26
Lizzy braced herself as she caught sight of the barn—the first time since it had burned to the ground. Seven days had passed since the fire; four since Helen Hanley had spoken to the DA in exchange for immunity; three since Andrew had left for Boston.
The concussion symptoms had finally subsided, the bruising along her jaw had mellowed to an iridescent mix of violets and greens, and her lip was healing well, thanks to the salve of comfrey and geranium Rhanna had whipped up in the shop.
Rhanna walked beside her now, her face solemn beneath her fading California tan. They’d come to say a goodbye of sorts. The demolition crew Andrew had contracted to remove the remains of the barn had called to say they’d be arriving soon.
They stood silent for a time, shoulder to shoulder, looking down from the top of the rise. There wasn’t a trace of Rhanna’s mural left. It was just a charred hull now, scorched and jagged against the bright morning sky. It had been a landmark to some, an eyesore to others, and in a few hours it would be gone, scrubbed from the landscape.
The thought rocked Lizzy more than she cared to admit. She wasn’t even gone yet, and it was already happening. Little by little, the Moons and their way of life were disappearing, the links of Althea’s precious chain beginning to give way. It shouldn’t matter. She was leaving soon. But it did, somehow. It was a piece of her past, a piece of all their pasts, and soon it would be nothing but a memory.
Lizzy and Rhanna turned in unison at the sound of gears grinding up the driveway. Another few minutes and the bulldozer was lumbering in their direction. A man in a hard hat and bright-orange vest kept pace a few steps behind, a clipboard in his hand.
Lizzy held her breath as the dozer came on, then breathed a sigh of relief when it halted just short of the barn, as if an eleventh-hour stay of execution had been granted. “I suppose I need to go down and give them the green light, or whatever it is I’m supposed to do.”
The dozer operator had climbed down and joined his counterpart. They stood with their backs to Lizzy as she approached, gesturing now and then as they worked out a plan of attack. The man with the clipboard noticed her first.
“We’re supposed to talk to Elzibeth Moon. Would that be you?”
“Yes. I’m Lizzy Moon.”
He handed her the clipboard, pointing to the signature line at the bottom of the work order. “We’ll need you to sign off—here.”
Lizzy signed and handed back the clipboard.
“Anyone currently inside the structure?”
Lizzy eyed the charred ruin dubiously, but she supposed there were policies to follow. “No. No one.”
“Good then. It shouldn’t take long. The removal truck will be by later to clean up and haul it all away. We’ll need you to move back, and stay clear until we wrap up.”
Lizzy felt numb as she walked back up the rise to join Rhanna, her arms folded tight to her body. “We need to stay clear while they work. He said it won’t take long.”
Rhanna sank down onto the grass, sitting cross-legged. Lizzy sat beside her, knees hugged to her chest, watching as the men slowly circled the barn.
“I still can’t believe it,” Rhanna said, shaking her head. “It’s just so horrible.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much you loved that mural.”
Rhanna’s head snapped around. “I wasn’t talking about the mural. I was talking about you—about what almost happened. What on earth were you doing in the barn anyway?”
Lizzy thought of the Earth Song, so close to completion—lost now. There wouldn’t be time to re-create it before she left, so there really wasn’t any point in keeping it a secret. “I was making perfume.”
Rhanna’s eyes widened. “You were not.”
“The Earth Song you used to like—I was trying to re-create it. I wanted to surprise you with it before I left.”
“Oh, baby. What a lovely thing to do.”
She shrugged. “It’s gone now. The fire . . .”
“No,” Rhanna said, catching Lizzy’s hand and holding it tight. “Don’t you dare. You’re here. I’m here. That’s all that matters. Just knowing you wanted to do that . . .” She glanced down at their entwined hands and smiled. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I’ve been back. Why I’m here, after the way things went down, all the messes I made. I thought it was to pay my dues, you know, like a penance. Now I know it wasn’t that at all. I came back for you, Lizzy. I came back here to learn how to be your mother.” She paused, smiling wistfully. “I know. My timing stinks. I’m about thirty-six years too late. But I’ll always be grateful for these weeks with you.”
Lizzy felt something let go in her chest as she met Rhanna’s gaze, a bloom of emotion unfurling like petals under a warm sun. They’d come a long way in only a few short weeks, unpacking years of baggage, opening old wounds. Rhanna had laid herself open, owned her mistakes, and paid her penance. But what about her own wounds? A lifetime of resentment and blame, the ache of abandonment she’d never allowed herself to admit. Perhaps it was she who’d had the longer road to travel.
She laid a hand on Rhanna’s arm, tentative about risking the unsolicited contact. “When you showed up . . . I was horrid to you. I didn’t want you here because I didn’t want to admit that it hurt that you never wanted me. I’d spent too many years pretending not to care to just let it all go. Growing up, I used to hope that one day you’d learn to like me, that we’d finally be a family, but you never did. Then you took off, and that was that. I guess I was trying to punish you. Now
