1. Cora

1

CORA

C ora Davies stepped out of the car and took in the welcome sight of her new home for a moment.

It's ours. It's really ours…

Her seven-year-old son, Sylvester, was still asleep in the backseat, so she knew she could steal this small time to lean on her open car door, drinking in the crisp, fall air and gazing up at the lovable Victorian cottage with the wraparound porch and the copper roof.

Thankfully, the workers had already put in the fresh pine fence she'd asked for, cutting off the side yard from that dangerous path into the woods and the creek.

"It does look like Pippi Longstocking's house," a little voice said excitedly from the backseat, letting her know that someone was awake.

She smiled at his enthusiasm. She had thought this cottage looked like a smaller version of Villa Villekulla from the Pippi books the moment she laid eyes on it. And she'd hoped that telling Sylvester about their new house that way would make him more excited about the move, since those books were some of his favorites.

As it turned out, the only thing he needed to feel excited about the move was to be told they would be living close to Grandma Davies now. He had been eager to pack up and move from the moment he found out the grandmother he adored would be right around the corner from the new place.

And Cora was glad to be able to keep some close connection to her late husband's side of the family. It was the main reason she'd chosen Trinity Falls when she'd decided to move out of the city.

"I'm so glad you think so too," she said, turning to open his door and watch him unstrap from his booster seat before she could start thinking about how much she missed Arthur. "Are you ready to see your room?"

"Yes," he said, sounding fresh as a daisy.

After a whole day of driving up from Virginia, Cora only wished she could say the same. But all she had left to do was bring in a few bags and fix them some dinner, and then they would be relaxing for the evening. Unpacking the rest of the car could wait until tomorrow.

"Wow, so many trees," Sylvester said excitedly as he ran for the front porch.

" Walk, please ," Cora called out to him.

It was colder here than in Virginia. The last thing they needed was his asthma flaring up, or for him to trip on the porch steps. She nodded to herself when he slowed down immediately. He was a good boy, and she was glad he was excited about their new home.

They had left early in the morning so that they could arrive before dark. And now she was so glad they'd made the effort. Sylvester was getting his first look at the house and woods in the rosy twilight, when the peeling paint on the porch faded into the shadows, and the only thing you noticed was the lovely woodwork and the pretty green patina on the copper roofing.

But the truth was that, peeling paint and all, it was absolutely magical compared to the tiny apartment they'd lived in back in the outskirts of DC. The city had been bustling with all kinds of interesting things to do and see. But it was expensive, and they hadn't been able to afford much there on Arthur's salary.

And now that Arthur had passed, they didn't have to live near the city for his government job anymore.

But thinking about that for too long wouldn't do her any good. So, she set her mind to the happiness of the present moment instead, and all the things they had to look forward to.

The movers had been here earlier today, and their real estate agent, Sloane Greenfield, had done Cora the kindness of letting them in so that at least they would have beds in the bedrooms tonight, and all their possessions would be in the house, even if they were still in boxes.

Unfortunately, it looked like the movers had taken the turn out of the driveway a little too fast. The cute little mailbox was mangled, and the post it rested on made a forty-five-degree angle with the gravel driveway.

She sighed, thinking about having to arrange a repair before she'd even spent a single day here. But it was part of being a homeowner, something she had always dreamed of, so she couldn't complain. All things considered, this move had gone better than expected.

"The door isn't locked," Sylvester squeaked, turning the knob. "Is Grandma here?"

"That's just the vestibule," Cora told him. "Miss Greenfield hid a key in there for us that opens the main door. And we'll see Grandma tomorrow, remember?"

"What's a best-a-mule?" Sylvester asked.

"A vestibule is like an entryway," she told him. "So if friends come over when it's snowing, they can stand in an indoor space while they wait for us to come to the door."

"It's going to snow a lot," Sylvester said with a big smile.

"Yes," she told him. "Lots and lots compared to what we're used to. But it usually doesn't snow much until January."

She lifted the cute WELCOME mat that she was pretty sure hadn't been there when she first came to see the house, and there was an envelope with her name on it waiting for her.

She lifted it up to find that it was pretty heavy. Sure enough, when she opened it, she found a set of keys inside and a note from Sloane.

Hi Cora,

The movers did a great job getting everything in and putting your beds together, but they clipped the mailbox on the way out and you'll definitely need a new one. I took a photo in case the company gives you any trouble about the cost. Let me know if you need a contractor, or if there's anything else I can do to help get it sorted out.

Meanwhile, since the bedroom linen boxes were labeled, I took the liberty of making your beds. Hopefully you won't hit traffic on the way home, but if you do, you'll be able to relax when you get in.

Welcome to Trinity Falls! I know you two will love it here!

-Sloane

Cora smiled.

"What's that?" Sylvester asked.

"Just a note from our real estate agent," Cora said. "And the keys to the house."

" My keychain ," Sylvester yelled suddenly, patting the pockets of his jeans.

Cora's heart began to pound as she thought about all the places his favorite treasure could be. They had left the apartment, stopped at a diner, and a couple of gas stations. If they'd lost it on the road somewhere…

"Let's check the car," she said. "Maybe it fell out of your pocket in there while you were sleeping."

Sylvester ran for the car, and she didn't have the heart to ask him to slow down. She caught up to him, watching him pat down his booster seat to no avail.

" Oh no ," he moaned frantically, tears already sliding down his cheeks. " Oh, no… "

"It's okay," she told him. "Want me to take a look?"

He backed up and she moved in, finding herself silently praying that it wasn't lost forever. If he had been holding it in his hand when he dozed off, it might be on the floor.

She felt around, past a half-eaten packet of crackers that would need cleaning up in the morning, and the sweater he'd peeled off at some point during the journey.

Her fingers danced over something cool, metallic, and familiar. She plucked it out quickly and her heart rejoiced at the sight of the keychain. The small pewter football was so worn from little fingers rubbing it that the details were all but smoothed away.

"Here it is," she told him with a smile.

He took it wordlessly, hugging it to his chest and then sliding it into his palm, his thumb unconsciously stroking the smooth surface.

The keychain had been his father's. Arthur had played football in high school. He wasn't exceptional, but he enjoyed the game, and he had watched it on television with Sylvester.

Cora figured the keychain felt like a connection with his dad, and it was small enough Sylvester could carry it with him everywhere.

This was their life now, simultaneously trying to move forward down the path of happiness the grief counselor had told them to picture, but also trying not to let go of the memories of the man they both missed.

Leaving the apartment had been a big step forward. And moving closer to Arthur's mom felt like a wonderful way to be sure they always had someone who understood exactly what they had lost and why they wanted to keep his memory alive.

Cora had started looking for teaching positions in Trinity Falls right away after she lost Arthur. But almost two years passed before a position finally opened up. One of the English teachers at the high school had gone out on maternity leave at Thanksgiving, and decided she wouldn't be returning after all.

Cora jumped at the chance. Being offered the position felt like winning the lottery. It had been all she could do not to cry with relief and joy when she got the phone call with the happy news.

And now, after all that time, they were finally at their new beginning.

"Let's head in now," she told Sylvester, eager for him to see the house.

Half an hour later, they had explored every nook and cranny of the place.

The man who had sold it to them had apparently purchased a large number of the country homes in the area. Sloane had explained that he'd done it to save them from being sold to some developer. And since his plan was just to resell them at what seemed like a steal of a price to Cora, he had replaced roofing, wiring, and heaters as needed, but he hadn't done much cosmetic work .

As a result, the cottage had a new boiler, new wiring, high ceilings, and intricate woodwork that had been done by hand in the late 1800s. But it also had an older bathroom and kitchen, and more than a few rough patches in the plaster walls from the rewiring.

Cora was definitely going to have to learn how to repair and paint for herself. There was no way she could pay for this much help on a teacher's salary.

On the other hand, she didn't like going out often, or watching too much television. It would be nice to have a handy project to keep her busy after Sylvester went to bed or when he was involved in activities with his friends. Of course, if the workload she brought home from this new school was anything like what she was used to, expecting to have much free time was probably just wishful thinking. But it was still a fun idea.

"You can help me choose paint colors," she decided out loud.

"For my room?" Sylvester asked.

"For all the rooms, I think," she told him. "But we can start with yours."

"Can we paint it all different colors?" he asked immediately.

"You mean like with stripes or spots?" she asked him.

He nodded hard.

"It's our house," she told him. "So we can paint it any colors we want. But I'm a brand-new painter. So maybe I'll paint it one color just to start, and then if I'm any good at this, we can add stripes or spots?"

"I can do it," Sylvester said, his eyes lighting up.

She knew already that the paint fumes could be bad for his lungs, no matter how much ventilation there was. It was so hard to tell him no all the time. But the memory of him trying desperately to get a breath during an attack was too frightening for her to ignore.

"We'll see," she told him. "We have to be very careful with your asthma."

The excitement went out of his eyes, and she had to remind herself that it had been a long day, and he was tired and probably hungry too.

"I'm going to start our supper," she told him. "Do you want to help me, or do you want to read?"

"I'll read," he told her, looking a little happier again. "I just got to a really good part."

She smiled, glad that he had inherited her love of books. He was reading Treasure Island right now, which he seemed to be really enjoying.

They headed down to the kitchen, and he installed himself at a stool by the counter, his nose already in his book before she even got started.

Cora smiled and grabbed the can of soup and the loaf of homemade bread she had brought with them from Virginia. Normally she would cook a nicer meal, but there wasn't anything else in the house. She would have to head to the grocery store tomorrow to stock up.

"Oh, that smells good," she said, as the split pea and ham soup began to warm up in the pan.

But Sylvester didn't answer. He was concentrating so hard on his book that it looked like he was about to physically dive into the pages.

Sylvester really loved reading adventure stories. In her heart, Cora knew that because his asthma kept him from a lot of the activities his friends did. She had grown up in a city apartment herself, and books had helped her escape, too.

These days Sylvester often wanted to talk about Treasure Island before bed instead of having her read to him, like she used to do every night.

He's growing up, bit by bit, she thought to herself.

It was a bittersweet idea. She wished Arthur were here with them to witness all of Sylvester's steps from little boy, to child, to the young man he would one day become.

Children need a village , she thought to herself. But at least here he'll have his grandmother and me now. The three of us will be enough.

She nodded to herself, feeling certain it had to be so. And if Cora felt a little lonely from time to time, that was okay. She had everything she needed right here.