“Of course.”
“Do you regret helping me buy that daisy?”
Maya looked genuinely surprised.
“No.”
“Even after everything that happened?”
Maya shook her head.
“If I stopped being kind because someone treated me badly, I’d be letting that person decide who I am.”
Eleanor sat very still.
Harold had said something similar years earlier.
He believed character was revealed not by the easy decisions people made when everyone was watching, but by what they did when there was no reward waiting.
Eleanor looked at Maya.
“Your father raised you well.”
Maya smiled.
“He tried.”
They finished lunch together.
Then Maya showed Eleanor the small greenhouse behind the house.
Inside were trays of seedlings, rose cuttings, and herbs arranged on handmade wooden shelves.
The damaged Santiago rose sat in a fresh pot near the window.
Maya had carefully supported its stem with a thin bamboo stake.
Eleanor leaned closer.
“It’s still alive.”
Maya smiled.
“Yes.”
“Will it bloom again?”
“Not immediately. But I think it will.”
She touched the soil.
“The roots are healthy.”
Eleanor looked at the plant for a long moment.
Then she asked, “Would you be willing to come somewhere with me this afternoon?”
Maya looked curious.
“Where?”
“A family gathering.”
Maya laughed nervously.
“Ms. Brooks, I don’t think I’m dressed for that.”
“You’re dressed perfectly well.”
“Why would you want me there?”
Eleanor looked directly into her eyes.
“Because there are people who need to hear the truth from someone who has nothing to gain by lying.”
Maya hesitated.
Eleanor continued.
“I believe the misunderstanding at the shop can be resolved. I also believe your work deserves to be recognized.”
Maya looked toward the rose.
“Where exactly is this gathering?”
Eleanor smiled.
“The Hartwell estate.”
Maya went completely still.
“The Hartwell estate?”
“Yes.”
Maya stared at her.
“Ms. Brooks, that’s where Vanessa’s wedding reception is being held.”
“I know.”
“She thinks I took her bracelet.”
“She won’t think that for much longer.”
Maya looked frightened.
“I don’t want another scene.”
“Neither do I.”
Eleanor touched her hand.
“But I won’t ask you to hide from the truth.”
Maya thought for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
“All right.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Bring your father’s rose.”
By the time they reached the Hartwell estate, the afternoon sun had begun to soften over the lawns.
The property sat behind a long driveway lined with old trees.
At its center stood a limestone house with wide terraces, formal gardens, and a glass conservatory that Harold had helped design.
Maya stared through the car window.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Most of the gardens were Harold’s idea.”
Maya turned toward her.
“Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“He must have loved plants.”
“He did.”
They passed a row of white roses.
Eleanor looked toward the gardens.
“He believed people should build things that remained beautiful after they were gone.”
Walter stopped near a side entrance.
Richard Bell stood waiting.
He was a tall man in his sixties, wearing a dark suit and carrying a leather folder.
“Mrs. Hartwell,” he said, opening the door.
Maya froze.
She looked at Eleanor.
“Mrs. Hartwell?”
Eleanor turned toward her.
For a moment, she felt almost guilty.
She had allowed Maya to believe she was an ordinary widow with barely enough money for a flower.
“There’s something I should explain,” Eleanor said gently.
Maya stared.
“My name is Eleanor Hartwell.”
The young woman’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
“Julian Hartwell’s grandmother?”
“Yes.”
Maya looked toward the enormous house.
Then back at Eleanor.
“But you said your name was Ellie Brooks.”
“Brooks was my maiden name. Ellie is what Harold called me.”
Maya sat back.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she looked down at her hands.
“You could have bought the whole shop.”
Eleanor smiled sadly.
“Perhaps. But I only wanted one daisy.”
Maya looked at her.
“Why were you there?”
“Because Julian is very important to me. And I wanted to understand the woman he plans to marry.”
Maya glanced toward the estate.
“Does he know?”
“Not yet.”
Eleanor reached for her hand.
“I didn’t come looking for trouble, Maya. I came looking for the truth.”
Maya nodded slowly.
Then she looked toward the small pot beside her feet.
“Do you still want me to bring the rose?”
“Very much.”
Richard escorted them inside.
The estate was busy with preparations for the following day’s wedding.
Florists carried arrangements into the dining room.
Caterers arranged silverware.
A string quartet practiced in the conservatory.
Guests gathered beneath chandeliers, drinking sparkling water and discussing travel plans.
Vanessa stood near the center of the room wearing a pale blue dress.
She was speaking animatedly to Julian.
He looked handsome in a dark suit, with the same warm brown eyes Eleanor remembered from his childhood.
When he saw Eleanor enter, his face lit up.
“Grandma!”
He hurried toward her and embraced her.
“I thought you weren’t arriving until tomorrow.”
Eleanor smiled.
“I changed my plans.”
He stepped back.
“You look wonderful.”