Page 71 of Buried Roots

I rush back inside and meet Owen in the foyer. Before we officially open the doors, we take a moment to look at what we accomplished. We stand, looking at the freshly cleaned windows with the lush view. The marble fireplace, now shiny and bright. The scarred floors pristine, and the elaborate trim work looking crisp with the fresh coat of paint. The sunlight streaming in still sets the room aglow.

“We did this,” I whisper, meeting Owen’s gaze.

“We did, didn’t we?” He flashes me that beautiful proud smile of his.

And I’m reminded of why I yearn to be with him. I miss these moments,ourmoments.

After a knock at the door, Nia, fromThe Meddling Moon, steps inside, and I finally get to meet her. She’s wearing a flowing yellow summer dress with her twists piled artfully on her head. “Would you mind if I come inside so I can take photos of the place? It’s just stunning.”

“Please do!” I say, excited. “I can’t wait to see this house in the paper.”

After snapping a few shots, she approaches the wooden horse banister at the end of the spiral staircase. “This looks like the one in the foyer.”

“Yes. I recreated it here.”

She gasps, running a hand over it. “You did this? Tell me how.”

My brain whirs to life because I love talking about this stuff. “Well, I had to create the exact shape as the other one, so I made a mold. And when I made a mistake, because it’s wood, there was no undo button. So, I had to sculpt around errors.”

After scribbling some notes, she says, “I’m putting that in the article. I bet this becomes our best-selling paper. This place is just magical.”

“Thank you so much, Nia.”

She excitedly buzzes around, taking different close-up shots of the fireplace, the chandeliers, and the kitchen island.

I head outside, greeting Gertie as she arrives with her granddaughter, Amelia, who’s carrying a case of special edition Violet Moon beer. Gertie says, “Willow.” Her eyes pan around as her jaw goes slack. “I can’t believe it looks just as it did… way back when, but better.” She pats my shoulder and flashes me a wistful smile. “I know without a doubt Bo and Lily would be so proud. You finished their dream for them. Bo obviously knew what he was doing when he left you this house.”

Her words are tough to take because I can’t think about Bo right now, but I better get used to it. He’s surely going to come up a lot today. And it’s funny—after going through all of this, I never thought about it that way. Maybe Bo gave me this house because he knew I’d restore it. He knew it, even when I didn’t, and I’ll just focus on that. I smile and say, “You know, Gertie. I think you may be right.”

Then Roy Livingston arrives, tipping his hat at me before he says, “I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not. I knew you’d do this place right.”

I give him a hug. “Thank you, Roy.”

He leans in. “Head’s up, though. I just saw Mary Louise talking to the state surveyor about property lines. She’s saying something about them being in dispute.”

I fight off an eye roll. “So, what does this mean?”

“Probably nothing. She’s just using this as a chance to see if she can weasel in some land for her plant. Word is, she’s cooking up something. But don’t worry—I’m on it. I’ll be checking in with the surveyor when he’s all done.”

“You’re the best, Roy.” I’m so grateful I’ll still be in contact with him when I return to New York. “I’m glad you’re my lawyer. And my loan agent. And my friend.”

“Now don’t you forget that when you get back to the fast-paced city life. I’m here for you ’til my ticker stops.” He pats my shoulder before wandering into the crowd.

My eyes mist, and I have a feeling that’s going to happen a lot today.

When Mayor Rosen arrives, she looks around and flashes me a huge smile. “Willow. This has exceeded all my expectations.” She blows out a sigh. “What a gem for Violet Moon to have. We’re so blessed to have you.” She pulls me into a hug, and there’s that mist again.

“Thank you so much.” A warm feeling rushes through me, and it’s something new. I’m accustomed to restoring homes for income, but I’ve never restored something that meant this much to so many people. I hope this place becomes one of the many beloved sights of Violet Moon, and now I know that there’s no greater fulfillment than that. When Mayor Rosen pulls away, I smile. “I’m so glad that I could do this for the town. And I’m pretty proud of it too.”

“Let’s just hope the state appraiser agrees with us.” She shoots me a wide-eyed look before nodding behind me.

“No kidding.” I turn to see the appraiser from the Georgia’s secretary of state’s office, Andrew Perez, approaching us wearing a sharp suit.

He smiles at Mayor Rosen before he says, “It’s good to see you, Mayor.” He extends his hand. “Hello, Ms. Dawson. You ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” My breath hitches.Here we go. After we exchange pleasantries, Mayor Rosen takes her position on the front porch, just in front of the ribbon. She gets her microphone ready to address the townspeople, who are spilling over the roundabout driveway onto the surrounding lawn.

Smiling faces, decorations, balloons, and running kids set the tone for this summer party. When the hum of chatter quiets, Mayor Rosen says, “We’re thrilled for the opportunity to make this historic and beautiful estate a part of the city of Violet Moon. We can’t wait to open it up for all you good folks and the tourists who want to experience how beer barley growing is done right.”

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