‘Here we go,’ said Sabine.
There, at the end of the path, was a beautifully fashioned teak bench, its curved arms patterned with a design that combined flowers, stars and a sun and moon motif. Pink and gold cushions were strewn across it, and a plaque gleamed at its base.
Sabine took each of the Chalmers sisters’ hands in her own and pulled them around to face the bench.
‘Lyra’s favourite spot,’ said Sabine gently. Although she didn’t have to, because the sisters knew it well.
Sabine sat, pulling the girls down with her.
Effie’s eyes welled as she settled into one side of Sabine, her vision filling with wildflowers and trees, and at its edges, ghostly reminders of Mom. Mom spotting the fingers of the daffodils rising up from the damp spring ground. Mom hiding foil-wrapped eggs for them to find and then carefully unpeel, flattening the colourful wrappers into silvery rectangles. Mom twirling sparklers with them as they danced across the dusty fields as fireworks exploded overhead. Mom’s endless smile, the one that Effie could still conjure in her mind’s eye in a flash.
Sabine reached for the sisters’ hands and clasped them together in her lap, giving them a gentle squeeze. As she glanced over to meet Bonnie’s teary gaze, Effie smiled gently.
Bonnie smiled back.
‘It’s perfect,’ Effie whispered.
Chapter 12
MAGIC IN THE AIR
Bonnie
Head turned to hide the spikes that her tears had made of her eyelashes, Bonnie dabbed at an eye with the back of her hand. Her heart swelled as she took in the colourful brickwork at her feet. It was so beautiful. So perfect. SoMom.
Everything about it, from the gently carved wood of the bench seat, which reminded Bonnie so much of the swirling landscape scenes Mom loved to paint, to the brightly patterned Spanish-style tiles that interspersed the path of yellowish local bricks stretching out from the bench to make a wildflower-smothered loop around the frog pond.
But the tiles weren’t just patterned, she realized. Each was hand-painted with a tiny scene.
‘They’re memories,’ she said, her throat thick.
Sabine’s voice was as warm as a hug. ‘Every one of them.’
And so they were: each brick at the base of the bench was etched with a few words or a little picture, illustrating a memory that the hotel staff had of Mom.Smile like a swan, said one, poking fun at Mom’s insistence that swans were always smiling. You just couldn’t tell because they had no lips, she’d say.Rain is nature’s soundtrack, said another, referencing her love of sitting out at night reading as the rain pattered on the veranda roof.To catch a butterfly, said a third, reminding Bonnie of the time half of housekeeping had chased after her five-year-old self, demanding to know where she’dbeen going wearing a pool net over her head.Brownies heal all. And poignantly, so much so that Bonnie had to kneel to touch her fingers to it:It’s all for my girls.
‘It’s a memory chair,’ said Sabine. ‘So that we always remember the wonderful times your mom gave us, and will continue to. There are many more tiles. We want everyone to contribute over time.’
‘I love it.’ Bonnie stood, nudging the toe of her boot over tile after tile, letting the memory housed within each spill up through her like sunshine peeping through the clouds.
‘And you chose Mom’s favourite place,’ said Effie quietly. She turned a slow circle atop the spot where a fairy ring sprouted during mushroom season, and then again when the daisies popped out in spring. The three of them had enjoyed countless picnics here, sprawling on the thick blankets they’d carry down from the main building, picking out shapes in the clouds as they lay on their backs, bellies aching from thick sandwiches and too-big portions of cake.
‘She was so proud of you girls,’ said Sabine, wiping away a tear of her own. ‘We all are. This last year has been hard beyond belief, for all of us. But Lyra’s memory will live on. In this. In your home. In your work. And in your bond.’
In your bond.
Bonnie tried to catch Effie’s gaze again, to see if she might put their fight behind them, but Effie had that blank look on her face she always did when someone spoke earnestly of them as a duo. That hard expression that said she hated being lumped in with Bonnie. Almost as if she was too good for the flighty sister whose wild ambitions didn’t gel with Effie’s structured aspirations.
Maureen, who wore her usual apron tied around crisp slacks and paisley shirt, came over with a bottle of wine. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful spot? It’s so fitting. That one’s mine.’
She pointed to a brick decorated with text that readYou are all my sunshine.
‘We were teasing her about a bright yellow dress she had on. She looked like she’d stepped right out of the sky.’
Even Effie smiled. Because Mom had always looked like that.
Maureen displayed the wine bottle label, which depicted a series of tall Douglas firs against a grey sky. ‘Would any of you like a glass? We’re trying out a new Oregonian supplier.’
‘I don’t day-drink,’ said Effie stiffly. She took off her glasses to polish them. Although from the amount she was blinking, Bonnie suspected that smudgy lenses weren’t really the issue here. Would it kill her to show a touch of emotion?
