The House on Honeysuckle Lane by Mary McDonough

Mom’s assets. She was never in need, and now there’s money for those of us still here.”
    â€œWhether we want it or not.”
    Emma smiled. “Be that as it may, Dad would have been proud of his son. Andie? Did you find it odd that Joe Herbert delivered Dad’s eulogy?”
    â€œI guess a little,” Andie admitted. “I assumed Mom would ask one of us.”
    â€œShe told me that Dad had requested Joe. Honestly, I would have liked to be the one to speak in Dad’s memory. I couldn’t help but wonder if he ever forgave me for choosing to move away and start my own business.”
    Andie put her arm around her sister. “Poor Emma. I know that Dad forgave you, as if there was anything to forgive. I’m sure he was disappointed, but that’s all.”
    â€œI suppose you’re right. But it hurt a bit that it was Joe standing there and not me, or even you or Danny.”
    â€œStill,” Andie pointed out, “Dad got the tribute he deserved, and that’s what really matters.”
    â€œYou’re right about that, too. Joe did a great job, probably better than I could have done. In the last ten or fifteen years of Dad’s life it was Joe, not me, who knew him best. Next to Mom, of course.”
    â€œYou had a life to lead, Emma. Don’t waste time on regrets.” Andie took her arm from around her sister’s shoulders and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Well, I need to get some sleep,” she said.
    â€œHow’s the couch working out for you?” Emma asked.
    Andie smiled. “I’ve slept on worse.”
    Emma listened to her sister’s footsteps descending the stairs until she heard the sound of the door to the den gently closing. She turned off the bedside lamp, slid down under the covers, and stared into the darkened room. And she thought back to that moment in the den when the idea of buying her parents’ house had first occurred to her.
    She wasn’t a stupid or a reckless woman. She believed that the time for a big change was now, before she started to feel that she was simply too tired to stage a revolution in her life. She had shed Ian and that was a good thing, a step forward into her future. But what exactly came next? The old blueprint she had created for her life needed to be replaced by one to better fit her needs going forward—whatever they might be exactly.
    To detach from old habits that had led her to this point in her life, without love. Could that be it; could that be her goal? Except for a few sociable colleagues, her circle of friends in Annapolis was primarily made up of people she had met through Ian. While they were nice, intelligent, and successful, she had come to realize that she wouldn’t miss spending time with any of them, whether she stayed in Annapolis or not. The truth was she had always been a fairly private person, not big on making friends. Except, that is, for Maureen Kline, her old school friend. In fact, they had made plans to meet the next morning.
    Emma hadn’t seen Maureen since Rumi’s party, but they weren’t the kind of friends who needed regular face time to feel bonded. Whenever she did see Maureen, even if it was after a full year apart, she felt as if they had been together but a moment before. Still, it would be nice to spend more time with her, sharing one of the massive cinnamon buns at Cookies ’n Crumpets, window shopping at the absurdly high end jewelry store in Lawrenceville, or indulging in a martini at the Angry Squire. Maureen’s friendship certainly added a strong attraction to the idea of coming home to Oliver’s Well.
    But it was just an idea, and often ideas never came to fruition. Emma turned on her side and settled into the ever-comforting fetal position. Before long, she was sound asleep.

C HAPTER 14
    T he sun was not quite up, but Andie had been awake for some time. As she made her way to the kitchen she noted that