Page 66 of If The Fates Allow
“It wasn’t old when I lived here.” Willa shifted in the backseat to peer out the car’s side window. Just as she suspected, not much had changed. The overgrown forest hugged the road, obscuring her view of anything else. “Haven House was a grand home by the time I left.”
“Haven House? You’re telling me this place has a name? How very swanky, Nana.” Anne turned back around and continued driving. “Pop, did you live near here too?”
“For a few months.” Noah grinned at Anne’s excitement. She was inquisitive to a fault, and he loved her dearly for it. “My family had a lumber mill about a mile from here, but their house wasn’t as big as Haven.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.” Anne leaned forward again, driving slowly as she took everything in. “That’s the one that burned to the ground not long after you two got married, and since Uncle Beau was out of a job, it was how you convinced him to come up and run the practice.”
“That reminds me that I need to phone Beau when we return to the motel tonight.” Noah pulled a small memo pad from his pocket, jotting down the note. “Dr. Callahan has to check on Mrs. Johnson tomorrow, and Beau will need to follow up with him on his findings.”
It had been a big step for Noah, but he had finally taken on another doctor at his practice. Even at eighty-eight, he didn’t want to truly give up all his patients, but knew it was time to make that final transition into old age.
Willa hated that she was partially to blame for him feeling like he needed to remove himself from the day-to-day happenings at the practice. Her health had never been an easy thing, with her breathing issues at the forefront of their life. But to next have one’s mind begin to fail was nothing short of adding insult to injury.
The gaps in her memory started a few years ago, with little things disappearing here and there. Now, it was hours or even days lost to her, and when it became noticeable, Noah finally decided to hang up his white coat for good, wanting to make the most of their remaining years.
What a wondrous thing it had been to spend a lifetime with the man she loved, to have children and grandchildren, and to have grand adventures with the small family she and Noah created. There were ups and downs, but always more good than bad, with neither minding as long as they were together.
After leaving Haven House that awful night, Willa never thought of the Fairweathers again. She didn’t belong to them anymore, especially when she and Noah were married directly after the New Year. Their daughter Mary came along by the following autumn, and with a newborn to care for and another on the way shortly after, life became too hectic for her to give her old family a second thought.
“You’ll need to call Robert tonight as well,” Willa reminded him, proud of herself for remembering their son’s schedule. “He’s operating on a tough patient in the morning, and a few words of encouragement from you will help settle his nerves.”
It turned out Ohio’s climate worked well for her lungs, and Noah opened his family clinic not long after their son entered the world. Noah had dedicated his life to serving others but focused mainly on those with breathing difficulties so he could remain at the forefront of research on Willa’s behalf. Their son had chosen the same profession and was as brilliant and caring as his father.
“Dad is always a bit looney before he hacks at people,” Anne joked. “Mama likes to tease him and serve a big, rare steak dinner the night before.”
Noah chuckled along with Willa. Their son’s weak stomach was a long-running family joke.
Hitting the brakes hard, Anne let out a shout. “Goodness! Is that it?”
Through the trees, the white of Haven House peeked through. From her spot in the back, Willa couldn’t see much but nodded. “That would be her, but who are those men at the end of the lane?”
Noah went on immediate alert, scanning the three large, surly men staring at them as if they were lost. “Don’t drive any further, Anne. Let me go and speak with them.”
“Pop, they’re just workers,” Anne assured him, pulling the car forward. “I wrote to Nana’s family to let them know we were going to be in the area, and they said the place was being renovated. I thought I told you.”
Willa shrunk in her seat. Anne had probably told her, but the information likely slipped off into the unknown corners of her mind. “I’m sorry, Noah. I guess I forgot.”
Noah’s blue eyes crinkled in their corners, and he squeezed her close. “It’s alright.”
Pulling the car forward, Anne parked directly in front of the house. Getting out, the three of them stared at the stark white columns, and Willa had to hold on tightly to Noah’s hand when a jolt of nostalgia struck. “Oh, my.”
Anne let out a whistle. “This is…Wow!”
“Can I help you folks?” One of the three men approached. “Haven House is private property, and the Fairweathers don’t like people snooping around.”
Straightening her spine, Willa looked down her nose at him. It was a Fairweather move she hadn’t pulled in years. “My name is Wilhelmina Fairweather, and I am the sister of Calvin Fairweather.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The man stopped short. “I, uh, Mr. Malcolm didn’t mention you would be stopping by.”
Cal was dead. It was the only reason she and Noah felt as though they could come to Haven House one last time. They knew little of her brother’s life, only that he married well and had three sons. The oldest was named Malcolm, and he had taken control of the family business, which they were calling Fairweather Holdings these days.
Willa didn’t care for the name. She thought it sounded rather pretentious.
“What are you building out there, sir?” Willa asked, pointing at the bones of smaller structures out along the bayou.
The man smiled at her question. “With the war over, Mr. Malcolm wants to make this place into a retreat, and he’s ordered us to construct cottages along the shoreline for extra guests who might stay over.”
“Looks like you have your work cut out for you,” Noah replied. “This old girl has sat vacant for a long time.”
