Page 46 of When Sparks Fly

“How did I never know that?” Liv asks, staring into the tree line as if she can see through the thick of it to the place her mom speaks of.

Randi shrugs then bounces her eyebrows at us. “Aunt Stephanie and I got into enough trouble as kids, I think Nana made a point to keep you two busy up here when you were around.”

Liv turns sharply to me. “Speaking of, what happened to the tire swing?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I noticed it was missing last week.” I continue to chew my lip, thinking of who Stephanie was as a child or young adult. Randi must have known a much different version than I have.

“She wasn’t always the way she is.” Randi seems to read my thoughts. I look past Liv to my aunt. Her eyes meet mine. “Stephanie was care-free. I was the practical one and she was the free spirit.”

My eyebrows jump.

“After she separated from your father, I think she made it her mission to never make a mistake again. And Mom was always on her about going back to him.”

“Nana liked him?”

Randi nods with a shrug and turns back to the tree line. “Yeah. He was handsome and smitten with Stephanie. And he was a good dad. He doted on you. He was polite to Mom.” She’s quiet for a moment, letting her words soak in. “Maybe they didn’t do things the way others in town would, but they loved each other. I never understood what could’ve changed Stephanie’s mind so fast, and neither did Mom. Our confusion didn’t help her, but she wouldn’t open up to us. It was a loss all the way around.”

I allow my thoughts to wander. Stephanie has always been secretive about my father and I muse at how much of a role he played in her becoming who she is today.

Liv stands and gathers our trash. I follow, stretching my arms over my head.

We file inside through the screen door of the laundry room and head into the kitchen. “I’ve done the laundry besides Nana’s room and tried to get everything in its place, so to speak, so it’s easierto go through.”

Randi hugs me around the shoulders. “Where do you want to start? Upstairs?”

Liv tangles her fingers with mine. “That’s a great place to start.”

We follow Randi up the stairs into the loft. She smiles, looking around the space, lit by a picture window on the back wall. The sun rises on the front of the house, so the natural light is muted currently. In one corner sits a desk with an older-style laptop on it. Books rest on the reading chair, frequently lit by the lamp on a telephone table beside it.

“Mom always loved this space.” She doesn’t add any detail as her eyes gloss over each piece of the room.

Liv steps to the desk. “Was Nana working on anything?” She slides her fingers along the open keyboard.

“I don’t think so,” I say, knowing the question is directed at me since Nana and I used to frequently chat about work. She would tell me about any editing she was working on and I would tell her all about my photo shoots. “She didn’t mention anything recent the last time we spoke. And no one brought it up at the service. I guess it’s possible.”

“I always wanted to hang out with Nana in here while she was proofreading, or just reading.” Liv plops down and kicks her feet up on the ottoman. “Oof. This could use recovering.” Randi joins in our laughter.

“Wouldn’t this space be perfect with a few low couches and a coffee table between? Maybe a bookcase along the window?” I gesture to the back wall.

One of Liv’s eyebrows quirks and she purses her lips. Randi watches our interaction silently. She wanders over to the window and peers into the backyard. “Yes, I think you’re right. It has great natural lighting and it’s open to the downstairs. Separate but not.”

“Yep,” Liv says, pushing out of the chair.

I take in my aunt. “Are you going to sell the house?”

Unbothered, she smiles softly. “I have a ton of wonderful memories here. But I love my house. I have no need for this place. And it wouldn’t feel right to be here. Not permanently. Although, it will definitely feel weird not to have holidays here anymore. Or random dinners with Mom.”

Liv and I exchange a wide-eyed look. She voices our combined question. “Who’s going to host holidays now?”

Holidays have been a sore spot for as long as I can remember. I spend the days trying to hide away with my relatives, ignoring Stephanie and Alan. Sometimes Alan would have to work and Stephanie would be even more put out. Would they even bother coming without Nana as a buffer? Would I?

A piece of me hopes my aunt won’t offer, because I can’t imagine Stephanie will.

No one speaks for a minute. “Mom?” Liv prompts.

“I’m happy to host. I don’t know how special that would feel in my little place, but it wouldn’t bother me.” She chews her lip for a minute. “I guess holidays are going to take some adjusting, aren’t they?” Her glassy eyes bounce between Liv and me.

After a moment, she keeps going. “I’m not in a hurry to sell. We have months before it’s even an option, but it doesn’t make sense to let it fall into disrepair when it still has so much left to give.”

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