December 20, 2025

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 4

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Michigan Weather and Women: Part 4

Finding real love, at last.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the

Podcast at Connected.

Driving home the next day felt like waking up from some kind

of dream until I pulled into our driveway and Munchkin came running out to

greet me. As I was getting out to reassure him that he hadn't been abandoned,

the reality of my life settled right back in. I went inside, and Lane and Mary

grunted their hellos without looking up.

Ah, home.

I texted Erin that I made it back safely, and she replied

almost immediately saying what a great night she had, and how much she missed

me already. It was going to be a long three weeks until she rotated back to the

hospital in Petoskey. Luckily, life was as busy as always, and time flew by.

For the first time since I was a child, I could honestly say that I was happy.

My happiness lasted until the day before Erin was scheduled

to return.

I got my first inkling that something might be wrong when I

called to see if Wilma wanted me to pick up any groceries for her from town.

She didn't answer, which was strange, and the call went to voicemail. Even if

she was napping, she was a very light sleeper and would normally answer by the

third ring. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I went straight to

Wilma's to make sure she was alright.

Everything seemed fine when I pulled into the yard, but

there was no answer when I knocked on her door. I tried again, but there was

nothing but an eerie silence. Fearing the worst, I grabbed the spare key from

its hiding place and went inside. I called Wilma's name and, hearing no reply,

went quickly through the house trying to find her. When I got to her bedroom, I

could hear a low moaning sound from the attached washroom. I ran in and found

Wilma collapsed by the bathtub. She had slipped and hit her head, injuring her

hip and arm in the process. She didn't have her phone with her when she fell

and had been unable to move, so who knows how long she had been lying there.

I called 911 for an ambulance and then called Erin and

suggested that she meet us at the hospital. It took forever for the paramedics

to arrive, and longer still to get Wilma loaded into the ambulance. By the time

I got to the hospital, she was already being triaged by their emergency team.

I took a few minutes while I waited for an update on Wilma's

condition to call the rest of the family and give them the news. Alison came

directly to the hospital after class, and Sharon brought Mary and Lane as soon

as they got home from school. Erin arrived a few hours later and broke down

when she saw me. Finally, just after nine, the doctors gave Erin an update.

Wilma was in rough shape; she was badly dehydrated and had a moderate

concussion, a fractured wrist, and a bone bruise on her hip. It would take her

weeks to recover in the hospital. The good news was that she would make a

recovery, given enough time and support.

Erin and Mary decided to stay with Wilma in the hospital

while Sharon dropped Alison at her dorm and drove Lane back to the house. By

midnight, Mary had nodded off in a chair in the corner of Wilma's room, while I

waited outside with Erin.

"You should go home, Davis. There's nothing else you

can do tonight. Thank God, you found her; I am not sure what I would have done

if you hadn't. I already lost Grampy; I am not ready to lose Gran as well. They

are all I have."

I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close.

"You have me, now, too. And the girls. And you know

Lane would do anything for you, you just need to ask. I was serious about what

I said in Grand Rapids, Erin. I love you."

Erin pulled me closer but didn't reply.

The following week was a rollercoaster of emotions. Wilma

was improving far quicker than the doctors had anticipated, but she would still

be in rehab for at least another two weeks. It was impossible to hide Wilma's

accident from the rest of the family, and they descended on the hospital like

vultures; or, more accurately, their lawyers descended on the hospital while,

for the most part, they stayed far away where it was warm. The one exception

was Erin's stepfather, who flew in the next day.

"For Christ's sake, Erin. Haven't you done enough harm

as it is? Do you want your Gran to die alone on the floor of that dingy old

shack of hers? It's time for her to move into a care facility that can look

after her. Be reasonable!"

When he failed to persuade Erin to act on his behalf, his

attorneys requested an emergency court order, alleging that Wilma lacked the

capacity to make her own medical decisions, that Erin was not acting in her

best interests, and that one of Wilma's children should be appointed as her

legal guardian. Wilma was furious when she learned of his actions, but there

was little she could do to stop him until she was discharged from the hospital.

Both sides knew that her doctor's recommendation would hold a lot of weight

with the judge, and it was not good news for Wilma when it came.

"If Mrs. Anderson is to return home, she will require

around-the-clock care and company. If such care can't be arranged, then I

recommend that she be placed in a long-term assisted-living facility that can

treat any lingering effects from her fall, and from her late-stage

cancer."

Erin took the news like a physical blow, and she staggered

backward to a chair. We didn't have the resources for 24-hour nursing, and it

would be impossible to arrange it with such short notice even if we did.

"I'm sorry, Davis. I need to be alone for a while to

think."

She left without looking back or saying goodbye to Wilma, and

I just let her go. I wanted to ease her pain, but I knew that there was nothing

I could do. She had lost, and her family had won. I was despondent as I made my

way towards the exit, so much so that I nearly ran into Alison who was

finishing up her shift at the hospital.

"You look terrible, Brother, what happened? Is Wilma

alright?"

I explained to her about the doctor's recommendation and

Erin's reaction.

"No one has had the heart to tell Wilma, yet. She's

recovered from the fall, but this news is going to kill her."

Alison looked at me for a minute, before her mouth quirked

upwards in a smile.

"I'll do it."

"What do you mean?

"I'll do it. I'll look after Wilma. I am wrapping up my

clinical practicum tomorrow, and I was planning on working this summer. I will

look after Wilma instead. Mary can move in with us as well, and I can teach her

what she needs to know to care for her when I'm not there. Once her school year

is done in June, she and I can spell each other off, and I can still pick up

some shifts here and there."

It was an amazing offer, but I couldn't let her do it.

"Alison, I can't ask you to give up your job for the

summer. You need that money for your living expenses at school."

"You're not asking; I'm offering. And since you've paid

for my tuition so far, I am debt-free and can take out a loan to cover my last

term."

"I didn't cover the tuition, it was your;"

"Davis. Really? Our mother, who never met a five-dollar

bill she couldn't snort or inject, left me a college fund? Please. I am not an

idiot. I love you, Big Brother, and I love what you have done for me and the

others, but it's my time to step up now as well. Let me do this."

I felt a heaviness lift from my chest as I hugged Alison and

lifted her off her feet.

I tried to reach Erin to let her know about Alison's offer,

but I drove to her apartment, and she wasn't there, and she must have turned

her phone off. I figured she must have gone to Wilma's, so I headed that way. I

pulled in just as the sun was setting and found her SUV parked in the laneway,

crosshatched by the lengthening shadows of the trees.

I parked and saw a lone figure at the end of the dock, still

wearing her scrubs. I could see whitecaps on the waves as they smashed into the

dock, and I knew she must be freezing, so I grabbed my jacket out of the back

of the truck and went to join her. The footing was treacherous, with patches of

ice hidden by the gloom and spray, but I made my way carefully to Erin and

wrapped my jacket around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and leaned back

against me.

"Am I doing the right thing, Davis? Gran could have

died. She would have died if not for you. Can we risk that happening again? Am

I just holding on to the past?"

When she was finished, Erin lapsed into silence.

"You are doing what Wilma asked you to do. I know your

stepfather says that she isn't mentally competent, but I tell you, if she's not

mentally competent then none of us are."

"But it doesn't make a difference anymore. You heard

what the doctor said, and I can't go against her recommendation."

"You don't have to, Erin. Alison has offered to move in

with Wilma to look after her, and she will teach Mary to look after her as

well. Between the two of them, Wilma can stay in the house until the fall, at

least, and then we can see."

Erin turned towards me in her excitement but lost her

footing on the slippery dock and fell backward into the water, pulling me with

her. Now, in the summer, that kind of accident might be cause for some laughter

and an embarrassing story around the dinner table. In late April, however,

spending any time in the frigid waters of Lake Michigan could rapidly prove

fatal.

The shock from the cold when Erin hit the water caused her

to gasp involuntarily, and she took in a mouthful. I had a half-second longer

to prepare myself and managed to keep my mouth closed as I submerged, but I

could immediately feel the cold in my extremities. The ladder that would

normally have been at the end of the dock had been taken out for the winter, so

we had no choice but to make for shore.

Time compressed as I struggled to pull us through the water

while Erin coughed and vomited. Finally, we dragged ourselves onto the shore,

wet and shivering. I felt clumsy and weak from the cold, and my clothes felt

like they weighed a hundred pounds, but I wrapped my arm around Erin's waist,

and we started stumbling toward the house. By the time we got there, we were

both shivering uncontrollably and my hands were numb from the cold.

I knew we needed to get warm, but it was like my brain was

in a fog and I couldn't get my limbs to move the way they were supposed to. So,

I did the first thing that came to mind, and started feeding paper and kindling

into the fireplace, while Erin went to the linen closet and grabbed a stack of

towels. She stripped off her wet scrubs while I got the fire started, and then

she helped me get undressed as well.

When I felt a little feeling return to my fingers, I fed a

larger log onto the fire and then went and got a large comforter which I

wrapped around us as we shivered in front of the fire. Eventually, our

shivering subsided as our bodies warmed up, and Erin laid her head back against

my chest.

"I'm not ready for her to go. I'm not ready to be all

alone again."

"You're not alone anymore; not unless you want to be. I

love you, Erin."

I felt her relax back against me.

"I love you too, Davis, and I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For pulling you into the lake like a dumbass; fuck,

that was cold."

Chapter 6.

Wilma's family insisted on taking their emergency petition

to court, over Wilma's continued objections, but once the judge learned that

Alison, a trained nurse, was going to be staying with her, their decision was

an easy one. And let me tell you, Wilma's mind was still sharp as ever, and she

made it clear both to her doctors and, eventually, to her family and the judge,

that she wanted to go home. Erin's stepfather was beside himself with anger

after they lost the hearing.

"Why do you insist on delaying the inevitable like

this? Wilma is dying. We know it, she knows it, the doctors know it. You're the

only one who won't accept it. She would get better care in a facility with real

nurses here in town, rather than relying on a student, a little girl, and

whatever time you can give her at home. The next time she has a crisis maybe we

won't get so lucky, and it will be on your head."

Outwardly, Erin looked as smooth and unbothered as glass as

her stepfather screamed at her, but her hand was squeezing mine so hard that I

thought she might break a bone. Luckily, before I could say anything to make

matters worse, Wilma intervened.

"What is it that makes you so damn sure that you know

what's best for everyone else? You're right, I'm dying. There is nothing that

anyone can do about that. If I happen to fall again and speed the process along,

so be it. But don't you dare pretend that you care one iota about my health or

happiness, or your stepdaughter's happiness for that matter. The only thing you

care about is getting your wife's inheritance faster. Is your business doing so

badly that you can't wait until I die?

It seemed like she had scored a direct hit, as his face

turned solid red as he started to stammer out a response, but she dismissed him

before he could even begin.

"Now go away and leave us in peace. You will be back here

for my funeral soon enough, and no one wants you hovering around, hoping to

speed it up."

A week later, Wilma was released from the hospital, and we

brought her back home. Alison moved in right away, along with Munchkin, and

Mary soon followed. On most days, James would come by to pick Mary up for

school and then drop her back afterward. Alison stayed with Wilma during the

day, and Mary covered most of the evenings. Erin came by to help whenever she

could, and I did my best to keep them stocked with supplies.

It wasn't perfect, but it worked and, more importantly, it

made Wilma happy. She didn't talk much about her cancer, but it was clear that

it was getting worse. Mary noticed that she was eating less and resting more

and that she had begun to take her pain pills in the morning as well as in the

evening before she went to bed. Wilma was still adamant that she wanted to stay

in her home, however, and continued to teach Mary all she could about art and

life.

In early June, I had stopped by to visit Wilma and the girls

late in the afternoon and I was still there when James dropped Mary off from

school. He escorted her into the house but then stood awkwardly in the

entranceway rather than leaving.

"Mr. Crawford, could we talk for a minute, if you have

the time?"

I shook my head in amusement. No matter how many times I

told him to just call me Davis, Mr. Crawford, I remained.

"Sure, I was just finishing up with Wilma," I

replied as I gave Wilma a gentle hug. She felt more like a bird at that point

than a person, just skin hanging on fragile bones held together by her

indomitable will. James looked worried as we went outside.

"This may not be any of my business, but yesterday,

when I got home from school, Calum and my dad were on a conference call with

some officials from the county and Wilma's son and one of her granddaughters,

the lawyer. I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything, but they were on speaker,

and it was loud enough that I could hear them in the kitchen.

"They were saying that when Wilma dies, her estate is

being divided up equally amongst all of the children and grandchildren, but

there is a part of the will that states that the land by the lake can't be sold

or developed. From the sounds of it, however, once Wilma is gone, the county is

going to seize that land, using eminent domain, to create a public boat launch,

since Wilma's dock is the only four-season dock for at least ten miles in

either direction. They will fix it up and then sell the rest of the land to the

McDougals for development.

"So, Wilma's family will get their money when the

county forces the sale, and the McDougals will get their land. The only person

left who might make a fuss would be Erin, but they figure she will fall in line

once she sees the big fat check from the county."

Listening to James' story made my blood boil. I hated the

kinds of rich pricks who used their money and their purchased politicians to

run roughshod over the rest of us. I just wasn't sure if there was anything

that we could do to stop them. I thanked James for the heads up and went to

speak with Wilma once he left. I expected Wilma to be as filled with rage at

her family's treachery as I was, but she seemed remarkably calm about the whole

thing.

"Thank you for sharing this with me and thank James for

his candor. He must have been deeply conflicted between his loyalty to his

family, and his desire to do the right thing. Now, as to what we are going to

do about this, we are going to do nothing. I don't want you to mention this to

Erin or Mary, it will just worry them and make them upset. And you have more

important things to do than to rage against a bunch of duplicitous assholes.

Leave this one with me.

"Now, why don't you go outside, take that shirt off,

and start chopping some wood or something equally manly? Erin will be here

soon, and you know how she likes to see you when you have worked up a

sweat."

I didn't know exactly what Wilma had planned, but for the

next few days, she spent a lot of time on the phone. Towards the end of June, a

very well-dressed older man in a tailored suit was leaving her house just as I

was pulling in. It was clear that he had been there before since Munchkin

ignored him and came over to give me an enthusiastic greeting instead. The man

gave me a friendly smile as he put his briefcase in his top-of-the-line Lexus

SUV before walking over to introduce himself.

"Brantford Sage," he said holding out his hand.

"You must be Mr. Crawford. Wilma has told me a lot about you. With

everything she said, I was kind of expecting you to be seven feet tall and

wearing a cape."

I laughed at the image.

"It's nice that she thinks so highly of me, but she

gives me too much credit. And please call me Davis."

"Well, Davis, and please call me Brantford, I have

known Wilma for more years than you have been alive, and I have never heard her

talk about anyone the way that she talks about you, except for Phillip, of

course. And we all know how she felt about Phillip."

I knew that it was none of my business why Mr. Sage was

visiting Wilma, but my desire to protect her overrode any hesitation on my part

about speaking out.

"I am sorry if it's rude of me to ask, Mr. Sage, but

what is your business here with Wilma? As you may know, her own family, along

with a local family of some prominence, have been waging a campaign to get

Wilma to sell this land. You are not here on their behalf, are you?"

"I can assure you, Davis, that I am only here as a

favor to Wilma. I normally split my time between our offices in Detroit, New

York, and London, but when Wilma calls, I make it a priority to answer. I am

sorry that I can't say more about my business here, attorney-client privilege,

but you can ask her yourself if you would like."

"It's all good. Wilma is still sharp as a tack, and

even if she has lost a step or two, she is still twice as smart and four times

as wise as I will ever be."

"Well, I should be going. But sadly, I am sure I will

see you again, soon enough."

By the end of the summer, it was clear that Wilma's

adventures were almost done. When she worked with Mary, she would often fall

asleep in the comfortable chair in the corner. She had never had a large

appetite, but recently, it had dwindled almost to nothing. Erin was very

worried and suggested that it was time to move her Gran into hospice, but Wilma

wouldn't hear of it.

"This house has been my home for more than 60 years; I

am not going to leave it now. It would miss me too much, and I can't have my

home pining away over me. There is nothing more depressing than a sad

home."

Even Munchkin, the dog with boundless energy, became more

subdued and often sat a quiet watch over Wilma while she slept.

Finally, on the last Sunday of August, I got the call I had

been dreading. I could hear Mary's voice on the other end of the line, holding

back tears.

"Gran says she's too tired and it's time to stop

fighting. She told me to call you and Erin, and ask you to come;" I could

hear the sobs building in her as she spoke, "to say goodbye."

"Is James there with you, Mary?"

"I called him. He's on his way."

"I will call Erin and then go and pick her up. She

won't be in any condition to drive."

I figured the odds of there being a speed trap on the

highway to Petoskey before 7 AM on a Sunday were slim to none, so I made it to

Erin's apartment in record time. She must have been watching for me out of her

window, as she threw herself into my arms before I was fully out of the truck.

"I am so sorry, Honey," was all I could say, and I

just held her in silence until the waves of grief that wracked her body had

subsided.

"We should get going," I said, not knowing what

else to say. Maybe I should have told her that "Everything would be

alright," but I suspected that it would be a while before that was true.

But that was okay. People grieve in their own time. Erin held my hand tightly

as we started the drive to Wilma's.

"Why don't you tell me some of your favorite memories

with your Gran and Grampy?"

Erin remained silent for a few minutes, but once she started

talking, the floodgates opened wide. She told me about the first time that her

parents dropped her at the airport when she was only seven. How scared she was

of these strange older people she didn't know. Phillip had seen her fear, and

rather than trying to comfort her; how do you comfort a child whose parents

have abandoned them; he had taken her for a long walk down by the lake. She

remembered the sound of the wind blowing off the lake, as Phillip told her

stories about their past.

She remembered the summers she spent with Gran and Grampy as

a teen. By that point, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, and her

parents wanted to show her off to their important friends in Europe and places

further afield. But she had already chosen to spend her time with the people

that she loved.

She spoke of coming to see them when she was in college. Of

the awful year that Phillip got sick, and her grief at his passing. She said

that her parents came to Good Hart for the funeral, but it felt like she and

Gran were the only people to truly grieve his loss. She fell silent as we pulled

into Wilma's laneway.

"Go and see your Gran. Let me know what you need,

Honey. I am here for you."

Despite her grief, Erin looked at me as she took my hand.

"What about you? What do you need, Davis? You love her

too."

"People show their love in different ways. I never

really got the chance to give or receive love as a child, at least not in the

way that most of us think of it. But being with you has made me realize

something important about myself; I take care of the people I love. So, let me

take care of you, Mary, and Wilma, one final time."

By that point, Mary and Munchkin had come outside. Mary's

eyes were red, and you could see the tracks that her tears had left on her

cheeks. I got out of the truck and just held her for a minute. Erin came up

behind me and enveloped her as well. Munchkin, mourning in his own way, stood

watch for us, keeping us safe as we grieved.

"Mary, you don't have to be here for the end if it's

too hard. You can say goodbye, then take the truck and go and meet James. We

can let you know when it's over."

She just shook her head.

"Where is she?"

Mary led us into the living room. The wisp that remained of

Wilma was in the comfortable chair by the fire. She had been a very small woman

when we met less than a year before, but now she looked almost ethereal. Like

the wind could slip right through her collecting her stories as it passed. She

beckoned me over with one of her curled hands.

"Davis, I am glad that you're here. I know I am a

greedy old biddy, but I have three favors to ask, and I don't have a lot of

time left to do the asking."

"Of course, Wilma. You know I would do anything for you

and Erin."

She closed her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts.

"The first favor is that I need some time alone with my

girls. I am sure James will be here in a minute; he is a good boy, don't hold

those assholes in his family against him. He loves our Mary. Go outside, and

when he arrives, I want you to go down to the lake and set up the five

Adirondack chairs, so they are all together and facing out over the water. Then

come back up to me."

"Of course, Wilma."

I went outside and sat on the front steps, scratching

Munchkin's ears as I waited. James pulled up less than ten minutes later and I

explained what had happened, and Wilma's request. When we were finished at the

lake, we walked back up to the house, with Munchkin following quietly on our

heels. We let ourselves in and saw Wilma, Erin, and Mary pulled together in an

embrace. I was hesitant to interrupt, but Wilma saw us and called us over.

"There's your big, strong men. Girls, could you get

some of the outdoor blankets for James to carry down to the lake for us? And

Davis, my second favor is for you to carry me down to the lake one last time.

Would the rest of you give us a few minutes before you follow?"

I picked Wilma up from the chair and wrapped her in my arms.

She felt almost weightless, but I saw hints of her mischievous smile as we

started walking.

"You know, the last time a man carried me like this,

the journey ended very differently."

I couldn't help but smile, even at the end Wilma was still

quick with the teasing and innuendo.

"I bet you wish it was that other man carrying you

now," I joked in return, but Wilma just rested her head against my chest.

"No. No, I don't, Davis. I will see that other man soon

enough. I am well content to be here with you. I am so proud of you. You are

such a good and faithful man. It is a lot to ask of you, but for my third

favor, will you look after my girls when I am gone?"

By that point, we had reached the shore, and I set Wilma

down in the middle chair of the five.

"You don't need to ask, Wilma. Of course, I will look

after them. Because you asked it of me, and because I love them just like you

do."

Wilma smiled and reached out to take my hand while she

pressed three small objects into my palm. I looked down and saw that she had

removed her engagement and wedding rings and given them to me. They were joined

by an almost identical wedding band that must have belonged to Phillip before

he passed.

"You will know when the time is right for these. I

would have liked to have been there to see it, though. Through these rings,

maybe Phillip and I can continue to be a small part of your love for each

other, even once we're gone."

James and the girls had started down the path to the lake

and would reach us in a minute. Before they arrived, Wilma gave me a final

serious look.

"All hell is going to break loose when they read my

will after the funeral. Be there for Erin, please. The mistakes I made with my

children are all my fault, but Erin will be left to bear that weight for a

little while longer once I'm gone. It would mean a lot to a dying woman to know

that she won't have to carry that weight alone."

"I'll share that weight with her, for as long as she

needs. For as long as she will let me."

Wilma patted my hand.

"That's good. I love you, Davis, but I think it's

time."

Mary and Erin arrived with James, and they made sure that

Wilma was bundled in warm blankets as she looked out over the lake. Mary and

Erin sat on either side of her and held her hands, while James and I sat at the

ends. Munchkin settled against Wilma's feet, to keep them warm.

After a while, Wilma started talking. She told stories about

her life with Phillip; how they met, when they first came to this place,

building a home, and raising their family. She spoke of their success as

artists, and their failures as parents. She spoke of her regrets but also about

her deep love for Erin and Mary, and how much she appreciated what they had

done for her. She paused for a moment as the wind began to pick up, but we

heard her last words before the wind carried the rest away.

"You are all artists, and you are all worthy of

love."

She fell silent, and we sat for a long while listening to

the wind off the lake.

Epilogue.

As always, Wilma was right. The reading of her will did

indeed set off a firestorm, but she had made sure that we were ready for it.

Do you remember Mr. Sage, that man in the suit who came to

visit Wilma not too long before she passed? It turns out that he wasn't just an

old friend, he was also a named partner at the largest law firm in the state

and one of the most powerful firms in the country.

It seems that Phillip didn't just paint portraits for the

richest family in the state (you would recognize their name from the hospitals,

museums, and other cultural institutions where it is featured prominently), but

he also became a close family friend. You would never have known it, though,

since Phillip refused to even acknowledge their friendship in public so that he

didn't inadvertently trade on their name. Mr. Sage was also a good friend of

that family and, over the years, became close with Wilma and Phillip, as well.

After James told Wilma his story, she called those old

family friends and, for the first time in their long friendship, asked for

their help. She would never have done so for her own benefit, but she couldn't

bear to think that Phillip's legacy would be lost because of the greed and

treachery of his children. Within a day, Mr. Sage was working on a solution to

Wilma's problem, and everything was signed and sealed well before Wilma passed

on.

The day of the reading of the will would have been comic if

it hadn't also been so tragic. In the weeks after Wilma's death, her remaining

children and grandchildren had gathered to express their deep sadness at her

passing. Many black outfits were worn, and many sad faces were made.

Not surprisingly, the entire McDougal family also showed up

both to the funeral and to the smaller gathering at Wilma's house afterward.

James stood with Mary, his arm around her shoulder, both to comfort her and to

protect her from his own family, as best he could. The rest of the McDougal

clan stood with Wilma's family and made sure to avail themselves of the free

wine and hors d'oeuvres.

As per her wishes, Wilma was cremated, and her ashes were

scattered from the deck behind her house so that the wind could carry them

towards the lake. Again, as per her wishes, the will was read immediately thereafter.

The first surprise of the day came when Mr. Sage, who

everyone thought was there merely to express his condolences at Wilma's

passing, informed the family lawyers that the will in their possession had been

revoked earlier that year. Both Wilma's family and their lawyers began to

protest until the man formally introduced himself as a named partner at Sage,

Bentley, and Carstairs, and as the new executor of Wilma's estate.

The second surprise was the size and extent of that estate.

The property by the lake was considerably larger than anyone had known and

included a number of additional houses and cottages that Wilma and Phillip had

acquired over the years. Unlike the previous will, however, that had left an

equal share of the land to each of Wilma's descendants, the new one protected

the entire property, in perpetuity, as part of a land trust that was

established for the benefit and use of artists, local residents and even the

Fudgies, when summer came to the lower peninsula.

As part of the land trust, the dock was to be extended and

reinforced and a public boat landing and park were to be built and maintained

on the land, again, in perpetuity. Erin and I were named as trustees of the

land trust, along with Mr. Sage and Mary, when she came of age. Given

Michigan's strict laws around the use of eminent domain for private gain, there

was no chance that the McDougals and the county would be able to move forward

with their plans to seize the land.

The third and final surprise was that Wilma and Phillip had

done much better with the sale of their art and with their investments over the

years than anyone had thought or expected. In addition to the property that was

now in the trust, they had amassed a fortune in the low eight figures. Most of

that money was left to manage the land trust, but a not inconsiderable amount

was set aside to fund the college education of my brother and sisters and to

pay off Erin's considerable student debt from medical school. The will also

stipulated that the estate would pay for any costs that Wilma's family had

incurred to attend the funeral (with receipts, of course.)

Wilma's paintings were left to the public gallery in Grand

Rapids and galleries further afield, with a few notable exceptions. Mary was

given three paintings of her choice from the collection, that weren't otherwise

named in the will. After much thought and consideration, she chose both the

first and last works that Wilma had painted, both of which had been hanging in

the living room, along with a small study of the house that Wilma kept in her

bedroom beside a picture of Phillip and her on their wedding day.

Erin was given Phillip's portrait of her as a young woman,

and that portrait still hangs above our mantelpiece alongside his portrait of

Wilma as a young woman, which she left to me. The only time they left our

mantelpiece was when they were featured in a retrospective exhibit of their

work at a museum in New York, but the house felt strangely empty when they were

gone.

Erin's family was furious at the changes in the new will.

They threatened to fight it with every resource at their disposal. They tried

every dirty trick they could think of, questioning Wilma's mental capacity in

the months before her death, fighting the legality of the land trust, and

trying to impugn our characters implying that we were gold diggers who wormed

our way into Wilma's life to steal the family inheritance. In the end, though,

the family's lawyers were no match for Brantford and his firm.

When none of their ploys worked, Erin's family and the

McDougals turned on each other, and the ensuing lawsuits are still ongoing to

this day. I would love to say that that was the end of the McDougals, or that

Erin's family came around in the end. Unfortunately, they are still just as

terrible as ever. But at least their arrogance and corruption are now far

enough away that we can safely ignore them.

On a similar note, my mother is still absent from our lives.

I don't honestly know if she is even still alive, although I assume that

someone would have tried to find her next of kin if she had died. Sometimes, I

am charitable and hope that she managed to face her demons and turn what's left

of her life around. But most of the time, I am just glad that she is no longer

able to hurt the people I love.

After things settled down, Alison finished her schooling and

became a nurse practitioner, as she had always dreamed of. In her last year of

study, while she was doing a clinical practicum at a hospital in Detroit, she met

a lovely internist who fell madly in love with her. Luckily for him, his

feelings were reciprocated, and they are now married and living in Grand

Rapids. They split their holidays between our family and her husband's family

in Detroit, and they stay with us for a few weeks each summer. Their son is as

thick as thieves with our daughter, and their imagination carries them through

endless adventures together.

Sharon was successful in her ambition to leave the peninsula

and see more of the world. She finished her undergraduate degree in creative

writing in Chicago before setting out to see the world, and she is still out

there wandering. But she sends us lots of pictures when she gets the chance,

and recently, Erin noticed that many of her pictures have the same very

attractive woman smiling in the background. I think it was probably a

coincidence, but Erin thinks otherwise. I sure hope Erin's right. There is

nothing I want more than for my family to find love and happiness. When the

spirit moves her to come home to us (with or without her friend), she will be

very welcome.

Mary spent months grieving her loss, but rather than turning

inward, she channeled her emotions into a triptych of paintings that firmly

established her as an upcoming talent in the world of art. She lived with us

for several years until James proposed, at which point they moved into one of

the cottages owned by the trust.

Unfortunately, James' family found out that he told Wilma

about their plans, and they disowned him. He had a few tough years, but Mary

helped him through, and when he turned eighteen, I took him on as an

apprentice. He now runs one of my crews. I used to worry that he loved Mary

more than she loved him and that the imbalance would lead to heartache. My

worries were put to rest when she painted her first portrait. James was her

subject, and I have never seen a painting more suffused with love and desire. A

few years later, a collector offered her an eye-watering amount of money for

it, but she politely declined.

As for Lane, well who knows what he will do with his life,

but he is carrying a 4.0 GPA, and the world is his oyster. He was sure

impressed by the lawyers who rained hellfire down on the McDougals, though, so

I suspect that he might be leaning that way in the future. He is also building

quite a following as a DJ, combining classics from the 40's and 50's with new

beats.

He recently started dating a new girl, and she is a real

sweetheart. We haven't told her about the day that he met Erin for the first

time; yet. But trust me, that time will come. But until it does, Lane is more

than happy to keep up with his chores and help out around the house. But what

he loves more than anything is to carry his rod out to the end of the dock and

fish, while the wind off the lake plays through his hair.

And then there is Erin and me. I have to say that things

have worked out pretty well for us, in the end. It took less than a year for me

to make use of Wilma's last gifts, and Erin and I were married the next summer

in the new park down by the dock. Wilma left her house and a few acres of land

to Erin, separate from the land trust, and we spent several years fixing it up

and expanding it so that my brother and sisters know that there is always a

place for them if they need it; for a day, a week, or a lifetime.

I am still not the best at taking orders or following

instructions; but gentle requests from the woman that I love, sealed with a

kiss on my cheek? It turns out that I am more than fine with those. And I am

still not always sure what a beautiful doctor sees in a plumber like me. But

rather than let my insecurity get the better of me, I have learned to accept my

good fortune with a smile.

One tradition that we've adopted as our own is that we make

time to dance together every Friday night. If we have guests, or family who are

home, they know that they will be joining us as well; Wilma's 'no wallflowers'

rule is still in full effect. Now that she is old enough, I am teaching our

daughter to dance, and her favorite thing in the world is to twirl around the

living room in her mommy and daddy's arms.

Some nights, when it's just the three of us and our daughter

has gone to bed, we let the soft crackle of Wilma's old 45s take us back. We

dance together with the lights down low, the music threading through the quiet

night like a whisper from the past. And when the music fades, we hold each

other close and listen to the voices of those we have loved, as they linger in

the wind off the lake.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

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Steamy-Stories

By Steamy Stories

3.6

2525 ratings

December 20, 2025

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 4

Listen Later

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 4

Finding real love, at last.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the

Podcast at Connected.

Driving home the next day felt like waking up from some kind

of dream until I pulled into our driveway and Munchkin came running out to

greet me. As I was getting out to reassure him that he hadn't been abandoned,

the reality of my life settled right back in. I went inside, and Lane and Mary

grunted their hellos without looking up.

Ah, home.

I texted Erin that I made it back safely, and she replied

almost immediately saying what a great night she had, and how much she missed

me already. It was going to be a long three weeks until she rotated back to the

hospital in Petoskey. Luckily, life was as busy as always, and time flew by.

For the first time since I was a child, I could honestly say that I was happy.

My happiness lasted until the day before Erin was scheduled

to return.

I got my first inkling that something might be wrong when I

called to see if Wilma wanted me to pick up any groceries for her from town.

She didn't answer, which was strange, and the call went to voicemail. Even if

she was napping, she was a very light sleeper and would normally answer by the

third ring. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I went straight to

Wilma's to make sure she was alright.

Everything seemed fine when I pulled into the yard, but

there was no answer when I knocked on her door. I tried again, but there was

nothing but an eerie silence. Fearing the worst, I grabbed the spare key from

its hiding place and went inside. I called Wilma's name and, hearing no reply,

went quickly through the house trying to find her. When I got to her bedroom, I

could hear a low moaning sound from the attached washroom. I ran in and found

Wilma collapsed by the bathtub. She had slipped and hit her head, injuring her

hip and arm in the process. She didn't have her phone with her when she fell

and had been unable to move, so who knows how long she had been lying there.

I called 911 for an ambulance and then called Erin and

suggested that she meet us at the hospital. It took forever for the paramedics

to arrive, and longer still to get Wilma loaded into the ambulance. By the time

I got to the hospital, she was already being triaged by their emergency team.

I took a few minutes while I waited for an update on Wilma's

condition to call the rest of the family and give them the news. Alison came

directly to the hospital after class, and Sharon brought Mary and Lane as soon

as they got home from school. Erin arrived a few hours later and broke down

when she saw me. Finally, just after nine, the doctors gave Erin an update.

Wilma was in rough shape; she was badly dehydrated and had a moderate

concussion, a fractured wrist, and a bone bruise on her hip. It would take her

weeks to recover in the hospital. The good news was that she would make a

recovery, given enough time and support.

Erin and Mary decided to stay with Wilma in the hospital

while Sharon dropped Alison at her dorm and drove Lane back to the house. By

midnight, Mary had nodded off in a chair in the corner of Wilma's room, while I

waited outside with Erin.

"You should go home, Davis. There's nothing else you

can do tonight. Thank God, you found her; I am not sure what I would have done

if you hadn't. I already lost Grampy; I am not ready to lose Gran as well. They

are all I have."

I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close.

"You have me, now, too. And the girls. And you know

Lane would do anything for you, you just need to ask. I was serious about what

I said in Grand Rapids, Erin. I love you."

Erin pulled me closer but didn't reply.

The following week was a rollercoaster of emotions. Wilma

was improving far quicker than the doctors had anticipated, but she would still

be in rehab for at least another two weeks. It was impossible to hide Wilma's

accident from the rest of the family, and they descended on the hospital like

vultures; or, more accurately, their lawyers descended on the hospital while,

for the most part, they stayed far away where it was warm. The one exception

was Erin's stepfather, who flew in the next day.

"For Christ's sake, Erin. Haven't you done enough harm

as it is? Do you want your Gran to die alone on the floor of that dingy old

shack of hers? It's time for her to move into a care facility that can look

after her. Be reasonable!"

When he failed to persuade Erin to act on his behalf, his

attorneys requested an emergency court order, alleging that Wilma lacked the

capacity to make her own medical decisions, that Erin was not acting in her

best interests, and that one of Wilma's children should be appointed as her

legal guardian. Wilma was furious when she learned of his actions, but there

was little she could do to stop him until she was discharged from the hospital.

Both sides knew that her doctor's recommendation would hold a lot of weight

with the judge, and it was not good news for Wilma when it came.

"If Mrs. Anderson is to return home, she will require

around-the-clock care and company. If such care can't be arranged, then I

recommend that she be placed in a long-term assisted-living facility that can

treat any lingering effects from her fall, and from her late-stage

cancer."

Erin took the news like a physical blow, and she staggered

backward to a chair. We didn't have the resources for 24-hour nursing, and it

would be impossible to arrange it with such short notice even if we did.

"I'm sorry, Davis. I need to be alone for a while to

think."

She left without looking back or saying goodbye to Wilma, and

I just let her go. I wanted to ease her pain, but I knew that there was nothing

I could do. She had lost, and her family had won. I was despondent as I made my

way towards the exit, so much so that I nearly ran into Alison who was

finishing up her shift at the hospital.

"You look terrible, Brother, what happened? Is Wilma

alright?"

I explained to her about the doctor's recommendation and

Erin's reaction.

"No one has had the heart to tell Wilma, yet. She's

recovered from the fall, but this news is going to kill her."

Alison looked at me for a minute, before her mouth quirked

upwards in a smile.

"I'll do it."

"What do you mean?

"I'll do it. I'll look after Wilma. I am wrapping up my

clinical practicum tomorrow, and I was planning on working this summer. I will

look after Wilma instead. Mary can move in with us as well, and I can teach her

what she needs to know to care for her when I'm not there. Once her school year

is done in June, she and I can spell each other off, and I can still pick up

some shifts here and there."

It was an amazing offer, but I couldn't let her do it.

"Alison, I can't ask you to give up your job for the

summer. You need that money for your living expenses at school."

"You're not asking; I'm offering. And since you've paid

for my tuition so far, I am debt-free and can take out a loan to cover my last

term."

"I didn't cover the tuition, it was your;"

"Davis. Really? Our mother, who never met a five-dollar

bill she couldn't snort or inject, left me a college fund? Please. I am not an

idiot. I love you, Big Brother, and I love what you have done for me and the

others, but it's my time to step up now as well. Let me do this."

I felt a heaviness lift from my chest as I hugged Alison and

lifted her off her feet.

I tried to reach Erin to let her know about Alison's offer,

but I drove to her apartment, and she wasn't there, and she must have turned

her phone off. I figured she must have gone to Wilma's, so I headed that way. I

pulled in just as the sun was setting and found her SUV parked in the laneway,

crosshatched by the lengthening shadows of the trees.

I parked and saw a lone figure at the end of the dock, still

wearing her scrubs. I could see whitecaps on the waves as they smashed into the

dock, and I knew she must be freezing, so I grabbed my jacket out of the back

of the truck and went to join her. The footing was treacherous, with patches of

ice hidden by the gloom and spray, but I made my way carefully to Erin and

wrapped my jacket around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and leaned back

against me.

"Am I doing the right thing, Davis? Gran could have

died. She would have died if not for you. Can we risk that happening again? Am

I just holding on to the past?"

When she was finished, Erin lapsed into silence.

"You are doing what Wilma asked you to do. I know your

stepfather says that she isn't mentally competent, but I tell you, if she's not

mentally competent then none of us are."

"But it doesn't make a difference anymore. You heard

what the doctor said, and I can't go against her recommendation."

"You don't have to, Erin. Alison has offered to move in

with Wilma to look after her, and she will teach Mary to look after her as

well. Between the two of them, Wilma can stay in the house until the fall, at

least, and then we can see."

Erin turned towards me in her excitement but lost her

footing on the slippery dock and fell backward into the water, pulling me with

her. Now, in the summer, that kind of accident might be cause for some laughter

and an embarrassing story around the dinner table. In late April, however,

spending any time in the frigid waters of Lake Michigan could rapidly prove

fatal.

The shock from the cold when Erin hit the water caused her

to gasp involuntarily, and she took in a mouthful. I had a half-second longer

to prepare myself and managed to keep my mouth closed as I submerged, but I

could immediately feel the cold in my extremities. The ladder that would

normally have been at the end of the dock had been taken out for the winter, so

we had no choice but to make for shore.

Time compressed as I struggled to pull us through the water

while Erin coughed and vomited. Finally, we dragged ourselves onto the shore,

wet and shivering. I felt clumsy and weak from the cold, and my clothes felt

like they weighed a hundred pounds, but I wrapped my arm around Erin's waist,

and we started stumbling toward the house. By the time we got there, we were

both shivering uncontrollably and my hands were numb from the cold.

I knew we needed to get warm, but it was like my brain was

in a fog and I couldn't get my limbs to move the way they were supposed to. So,

I did the first thing that came to mind, and started feeding paper and kindling

into the fireplace, while Erin went to the linen closet and grabbed a stack of

towels. She stripped off her wet scrubs while I got the fire started, and then

she helped me get undressed as well.

When I felt a little feeling return to my fingers, I fed a

larger log onto the fire and then went and got a large comforter which I

wrapped around us as we shivered in front of the fire. Eventually, our

shivering subsided as our bodies warmed up, and Erin laid her head back against

my chest.

"I'm not ready for her to go. I'm not ready to be all

alone again."

"You're not alone anymore; not unless you want to be. I

love you, Erin."

I felt her relax back against me.

"I love you too, Davis, and I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For pulling you into the lake like a dumbass; fuck,

that was cold."

Chapter 6.

Wilma's family insisted on taking their emergency petition

to court, over Wilma's continued objections, but once the judge learned that

Alison, a trained nurse, was going to be staying with her, their decision was

an easy one. And let me tell you, Wilma's mind was still sharp as ever, and she

made it clear both to her doctors and, eventually, to her family and the judge,

that she wanted to go home. Erin's stepfather was beside himself with anger

after they lost the hearing.

"Why do you insist on delaying the inevitable like

this? Wilma is dying. We know it, she knows it, the doctors know it. You're the

only one who won't accept it. She would get better care in a facility with real

nurses here in town, rather than relying on a student, a little girl, and

whatever time you can give her at home. The next time she has a crisis maybe we

won't get so lucky, and it will be on your head."

Outwardly, Erin looked as smooth and unbothered as glass as

her stepfather screamed at her, but her hand was squeezing mine so hard that I

thought she might break a bone. Luckily, before I could say anything to make

matters worse, Wilma intervened.

"What is it that makes you so damn sure that you know

what's best for everyone else? You're right, I'm dying. There is nothing that

anyone can do about that. If I happen to fall again and speed the process along,

so be it. But don't you dare pretend that you care one iota about my health or

happiness, or your stepdaughter's happiness for that matter. The only thing you

care about is getting your wife's inheritance faster. Is your business doing so

badly that you can't wait until I die?

It seemed like she had scored a direct hit, as his face

turned solid red as he started to stammer out a response, but she dismissed him

before he could even begin.

"Now go away and leave us in peace. You will be back here

for my funeral soon enough, and no one wants you hovering around, hoping to

speed it up."

A week later, Wilma was released from the hospital, and we

brought her back home. Alison moved in right away, along with Munchkin, and

Mary soon followed. On most days, James would come by to pick Mary up for

school and then drop her back afterward. Alison stayed with Wilma during the

day, and Mary covered most of the evenings. Erin came by to help whenever she

could, and I did my best to keep them stocked with supplies.

It wasn't perfect, but it worked and, more importantly, it

made Wilma happy. She didn't talk much about her cancer, but it was clear that

it was getting worse. Mary noticed that she was eating less and resting more

and that she had begun to take her pain pills in the morning as well as in the

evening before she went to bed. Wilma was still adamant that she wanted to stay

in her home, however, and continued to teach Mary all she could about art and

life.

In early June, I had stopped by to visit Wilma and the girls

late in the afternoon and I was still there when James dropped Mary off from

school. He escorted her into the house but then stood awkwardly in the

entranceway rather than leaving.

"Mr. Crawford, could we talk for a minute, if you have

the time?"

I shook my head in amusement. No matter how many times I

told him to just call me Davis, Mr. Crawford, I remained.

"Sure, I was just finishing up with Wilma," I

replied as I gave Wilma a gentle hug. She felt more like a bird at that point

than a person, just skin hanging on fragile bones held together by her

indomitable will. James looked worried as we went outside.

"This may not be any of my business, but yesterday,

when I got home from school, Calum and my dad were on a conference call with

some officials from the county and Wilma's son and one of her granddaughters,

the lawyer. I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything, but they were on speaker,

and it was loud enough that I could hear them in the kitchen.

"They were saying that when Wilma dies, her estate is

being divided up equally amongst all of the children and grandchildren, but

there is a part of the will that states that the land by the lake can't be sold

or developed. From the sounds of it, however, once Wilma is gone, the county is

going to seize that land, using eminent domain, to create a public boat launch,

since Wilma's dock is the only four-season dock for at least ten miles in

either direction. They will fix it up and then sell the rest of the land to the

McDougals for development.

"So, Wilma's family will get their money when the

county forces the sale, and the McDougals will get their land. The only person

left who might make a fuss would be Erin, but they figure she will fall in line

once she sees the big fat check from the county."

Listening to James' story made my blood boil. I hated the

kinds of rich pricks who used their money and their purchased politicians to

run roughshod over the rest of us. I just wasn't sure if there was anything

that we could do to stop them. I thanked James for the heads up and went to

speak with Wilma once he left. I expected Wilma to be as filled with rage at

her family's treachery as I was, but she seemed remarkably calm about the whole

thing.

"Thank you for sharing this with me and thank James for

his candor. He must have been deeply conflicted between his loyalty to his

family, and his desire to do the right thing. Now, as to what we are going to

do about this, we are going to do nothing. I don't want you to mention this to

Erin or Mary, it will just worry them and make them upset. And you have more

important things to do than to rage against a bunch of duplicitous assholes.

Leave this one with me.

"Now, why don't you go outside, take that shirt off,

and start chopping some wood or something equally manly? Erin will be here

soon, and you know how she likes to see you when you have worked up a

sweat."

I didn't know exactly what Wilma had planned, but for the

next few days, she spent a lot of time on the phone. Towards the end of June, a

very well-dressed older man in a tailored suit was leaving her house just as I

was pulling in. It was clear that he had been there before since Munchkin

ignored him and came over to give me an enthusiastic greeting instead. The man

gave me a friendly smile as he put his briefcase in his top-of-the-line Lexus

SUV before walking over to introduce himself.

"Brantford Sage," he said holding out his hand.

"You must be Mr. Crawford. Wilma has told me a lot about you. With

everything she said, I was kind of expecting you to be seven feet tall and

wearing a cape."

I laughed at the image.

"It's nice that she thinks so highly of me, but she

gives me too much credit. And please call me Davis."

"Well, Davis, and please call me Brantford, I have

known Wilma for more years than you have been alive, and I have never heard her

talk about anyone the way that she talks about you, except for Phillip, of

course. And we all know how she felt about Phillip."

I knew that it was none of my business why Mr. Sage was

visiting Wilma, but my desire to protect her overrode any hesitation on my part

about speaking out.

"I am sorry if it's rude of me to ask, Mr. Sage, but

what is your business here with Wilma? As you may know, her own family, along

with a local family of some prominence, have been waging a campaign to get

Wilma to sell this land. You are not here on their behalf, are you?"

"I can assure you, Davis, that I am only here as a

favor to Wilma. I normally split my time between our offices in Detroit, New

York, and London, but when Wilma calls, I make it a priority to answer. I am

sorry that I can't say more about my business here, attorney-client privilege,

but you can ask her yourself if you would like."

"It's all good. Wilma is still sharp as a tack, and

even if she has lost a step or two, she is still twice as smart and four times

as wise as I will ever be."

"Well, I should be going. But sadly, I am sure I will

see you again, soon enough."

By the end of the summer, it was clear that Wilma's

adventures were almost done. When she worked with Mary, she would often fall

asleep in the comfortable chair in the corner. She had never had a large

appetite, but recently, it had dwindled almost to nothing. Erin was very

worried and suggested that it was time to move her Gran into hospice, but Wilma

wouldn't hear of it.

"This house has been my home for more than 60 years; I

am not going to leave it now. It would miss me too much, and I can't have my

home pining away over me. There is nothing more depressing than a sad

home."

Even Munchkin, the dog with boundless energy, became more

subdued and often sat a quiet watch over Wilma while she slept.

Finally, on the last Sunday of August, I got the call I had

been dreading. I could hear Mary's voice on the other end of the line, holding

back tears.

"Gran says she's too tired and it's time to stop

fighting. She told me to call you and Erin, and ask you to come;" I could

hear the sobs building in her as she spoke, "to say goodbye."

"Is James there with you, Mary?"

"I called him. He's on his way."

"I will call Erin and then go and pick her up. She

won't be in any condition to drive."

I figured the odds of there being a speed trap on the

highway to Petoskey before 7 AM on a Sunday were slim to none, so I made it to

Erin's apartment in record time. She must have been watching for me out of her

window, as she threw herself into my arms before I was fully out of the truck.

"I am so sorry, Honey," was all I could say, and I

just held her in silence until the waves of grief that wracked her body had

subsided.

"We should get going," I said, not knowing what

else to say. Maybe I should have told her that "Everything would be

alright," but I suspected that it would be a while before that was true.

But that was okay. People grieve in their own time. Erin held my hand tightly

as we started the drive to Wilma's.

"Why don't you tell me some of your favorite memories

with your Gran and Grampy?"

Erin remained silent for a few minutes, but once she started

talking, the floodgates opened wide. She told me about the first time that her

parents dropped her at the airport when she was only seven. How scared she was

of these strange older people she didn't know. Phillip had seen her fear, and

rather than trying to comfort her; how do you comfort a child whose parents

have abandoned them; he had taken her for a long walk down by the lake. She

remembered the sound of the wind blowing off the lake, as Phillip told her

stories about their past.

She remembered the summers she spent with Gran and Grampy as

a teen. By that point, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, and her

parents wanted to show her off to their important friends in Europe and places

further afield. But she had already chosen to spend her time with the people

that she loved.

She spoke of coming to see them when she was in college. Of

the awful year that Phillip got sick, and her grief at his passing. She said

that her parents came to Good Hart for the funeral, but it felt like she and

Gran were the only people to truly grieve his loss. She fell silent as we pulled

into Wilma's laneway.

"Go and see your Gran. Let me know what you need,

Honey. I am here for you."

Despite her grief, Erin looked at me as she took my hand.

"What about you? What do you need, Davis? You love her

too."

"People show their love in different ways. I never

really got the chance to give or receive love as a child, at least not in the

way that most of us think of it. But being with you has made me realize

something important about myself; I take care of the people I love. So, let me

take care of you, Mary, and Wilma, one final time."

By that point, Mary and Munchkin had come outside. Mary's

eyes were red, and you could see the tracks that her tears had left on her

cheeks. I got out of the truck and just held her for a minute. Erin came up

behind me and enveloped her as well. Munchkin, mourning in his own way, stood

watch for us, keeping us safe as we grieved.

"Mary, you don't have to be here for the end if it's

too hard. You can say goodbye, then take the truck and go and meet James. We

can let you know when it's over."

She just shook her head.

"Where is she?"

Mary led us into the living room. The wisp that remained of

Wilma was in the comfortable chair by the fire. She had been a very small woman

when we met less than a year before, but now she looked almost ethereal. Like

the wind could slip right through her collecting her stories as it passed. She

beckoned me over with one of her curled hands.

"Davis, I am glad that you're here. I know I am a

greedy old biddy, but I have three favors to ask, and I don't have a lot of

time left to do the asking."

"Of course, Wilma. You know I would do anything for you

and Erin."

She closed her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts.

"The first favor is that I need some time alone with my

girls. I am sure James will be here in a minute; he is a good boy, don't hold

those assholes in his family against him. He loves our Mary. Go outside, and

when he arrives, I want you to go down to the lake and set up the five

Adirondack chairs, so they are all together and facing out over the water. Then

come back up to me."

"Of course, Wilma."

I went outside and sat on the front steps, scratching

Munchkin's ears as I waited. James pulled up less than ten minutes later and I

explained what had happened, and Wilma's request. When we were finished at the

lake, we walked back up to the house, with Munchkin following quietly on our

heels. We let ourselves in and saw Wilma, Erin, and Mary pulled together in an

embrace. I was hesitant to interrupt, but Wilma saw us and called us over.

"There's your big, strong men. Girls, could you get

some of the outdoor blankets for James to carry down to the lake for us? And

Davis, my second favor is for you to carry me down to the lake one last time.

Would the rest of you give us a few minutes before you follow?"

I picked Wilma up from the chair and wrapped her in my arms.

She felt almost weightless, but I saw hints of her mischievous smile as we

started walking.

"You know, the last time a man carried me like this,

the journey ended very differently."

I couldn't help but smile, even at the end Wilma was still

quick with the teasing and innuendo.

"I bet you wish it was that other man carrying you

now," I joked in return, but Wilma just rested her head against my chest.

"No. No, I don't, Davis. I will see that other man soon

enough. I am well content to be here with you. I am so proud of you. You are

such a good and faithful man. It is a lot to ask of you, but for my third

favor, will you look after my girls when I am gone?"

By that point, we had reached the shore, and I set Wilma

down in the middle chair of the five.

"You don't need to ask, Wilma. Of course, I will look

after them. Because you asked it of me, and because I love them just like you

do."

Wilma smiled and reached out to take my hand while she

pressed three small objects into my palm. I looked down and saw that she had

removed her engagement and wedding rings and given them to me. They were joined

by an almost identical wedding band that must have belonged to Phillip before

he passed.

"You will know when the time is right for these. I

would have liked to have been there to see it, though. Through these rings,

maybe Phillip and I can continue to be a small part of your love for each

other, even once we're gone."

James and the girls had started down the path to the lake

and would reach us in a minute. Before they arrived, Wilma gave me a final

serious look.

"All hell is going to break loose when they read my

will after the funeral. Be there for Erin, please. The mistakes I made with my

children are all my fault, but Erin will be left to bear that weight for a

little while longer once I'm gone. It would mean a lot to a dying woman to know

that she won't have to carry that weight alone."

"I'll share that weight with her, for as long as she

needs. For as long as she will let me."

Wilma patted my hand.

"That's good. I love you, Davis, but I think it's

time."

Mary and Erin arrived with James, and they made sure that

Wilma was bundled in warm blankets as she looked out over the lake. Mary and

Erin sat on either side of her and held her hands, while James and I sat at the

ends. Munchkin settled against Wilma's feet, to keep them warm.

After a while, Wilma started talking. She told stories about

her life with Phillip; how they met, when they first came to this place,

building a home, and raising their family. She spoke of their success as

artists, and their failures as parents. She spoke of her regrets but also about

her deep love for Erin and Mary, and how much she appreciated what they had

done for her. She paused for a moment as the wind began to pick up, but we

heard her last words before the wind carried the rest away.

"You are all artists, and you are all worthy of

love."

She fell silent, and we sat for a long while listening to

the wind off the lake.

Epilogue.

As always, Wilma was right. The reading of her will did

indeed set off a firestorm, but she had made sure that we were ready for it.

Do you remember Mr. Sage, that man in the suit who came to

visit Wilma not too long before she passed? It turns out that he wasn't just an

old friend, he was also a named partner at the largest law firm in the state

and one of the most powerful firms in the country.

It seems that Phillip didn't just paint portraits for the

richest family in the state (you would recognize their name from the hospitals,

museums, and other cultural institutions where it is featured prominently), but

he also became a close family friend. You would never have known it, though,

since Phillip refused to even acknowledge their friendship in public so that he

didn't inadvertently trade on their name. Mr. Sage was also a good friend of

that family and, over the years, became close with Wilma and Phillip, as well.

After James told Wilma his story, she called those old

family friends and, for the first time in their long friendship, asked for

their help. She would never have done so for her own benefit, but she couldn't

bear to think that Phillip's legacy would be lost because of the greed and

treachery of his children. Within a day, Mr. Sage was working on a solution to

Wilma's problem, and everything was signed and sealed well before Wilma passed

on.

The day of the reading of the will would have been comic if

it hadn't also been so tragic. In the weeks after Wilma's death, her remaining

children and grandchildren had gathered to express their deep sadness at her

passing. Many black outfits were worn, and many sad faces were made.

Not surprisingly, the entire McDougal family also showed up

both to the funeral and to the smaller gathering at Wilma's house afterward.

James stood with Mary, his arm around her shoulder, both to comfort her and to

protect her from his own family, as best he could. The rest of the McDougal

clan stood with Wilma's family and made sure to avail themselves of the free

wine and hors d'oeuvres.

As per her wishes, Wilma was cremated, and her ashes were

scattered from the deck behind her house so that the wind could carry them

towards the lake. Again, as per her wishes, the will was read immediately thereafter.

The first surprise of the day came when Mr. Sage, who

everyone thought was there merely to express his condolences at Wilma's

passing, informed the family lawyers that the will in their possession had been

revoked earlier that year. Both Wilma's family and their lawyers began to

protest until the man formally introduced himself as a named partner at Sage,

Bentley, and Carstairs, and as the new executor of Wilma's estate.

The second surprise was the size and extent of that estate.

The property by the lake was considerably larger than anyone had known and

included a number of additional houses and cottages that Wilma and Phillip had

acquired over the years. Unlike the previous will, however, that had left an

equal share of the land to each of Wilma's descendants, the new one protected

the entire property, in perpetuity, as part of a land trust that was

established for the benefit and use of artists, local residents and even the

Fudgies, when summer came to the lower peninsula.

As part of the land trust, the dock was to be extended and

reinforced and a public boat landing and park were to be built and maintained

on the land, again, in perpetuity. Erin and I were named as trustees of the

land trust, along with Mr. Sage and Mary, when she came of age. Given

Michigan's strict laws around the use of eminent domain for private gain, there

was no chance that the McDougals and the county would be able to move forward

with their plans to seize the land.

The third and final surprise was that Wilma and Phillip had

done much better with the sale of their art and with their investments over the

years than anyone had thought or expected. In addition to the property that was

now in the trust, they had amassed a fortune in the low eight figures. Most of

that money was left to manage the land trust, but a not inconsiderable amount

was set aside to fund the college education of my brother and sisters and to

pay off Erin's considerable student debt from medical school. The will also

stipulated that the estate would pay for any costs that Wilma's family had

incurred to attend the funeral (with receipts, of course.)

Wilma's paintings were left to the public gallery in Grand

Rapids and galleries further afield, with a few notable exceptions. Mary was

given three paintings of her choice from the collection, that weren't otherwise

named in the will. After much thought and consideration, she chose both the

first and last works that Wilma had painted, both of which had been hanging in

the living room, along with a small study of the house that Wilma kept in her

bedroom beside a picture of Phillip and her on their wedding day.

Erin was given Phillip's portrait of her as a young woman,

and that portrait still hangs above our mantelpiece alongside his portrait of

Wilma as a young woman, which she left to me. The only time they left our

mantelpiece was when they were featured in a retrospective exhibit of their

work at a museum in New York, but the house felt strangely empty when they were

gone.

Erin's family was furious at the changes in the new will.

They threatened to fight it with every resource at their disposal. They tried

every dirty trick they could think of, questioning Wilma's mental capacity in

the months before her death, fighting the legality of the land trust, and

trying to impugn our characters implying that we were gold diggers who wormed

our way into Wilma's life to steal the family inheritance. In the end, though,

the family's lawyers were no match for Brantford and his firm.

When none of their ploys worked, Erin's family and the

McDougals turned on each other, and the ensuing lawsuits are still ongoing to

this day. I would love to say that that was the end of the McDougals, or that

Erin's family came around in the end. Unfortunately, they are still just as

terrible as ever. But at least their arrogance and corruption are now far

enough away that we can safely ignore them.

On a similar note, my mother is still absent from our lives.

I don't honestly know if she is even still alive, although I assume that

someone would have tried to find her next of kin if she had died. Sometimes, I

am charitable and hope that she managed to face her demons and turn what's left

of her life around. But most of the time, I am just glad that she is no longer

able to hurt the people I love.

After things settled down, Alison finished her schooling and

became a nurse practitioner, as she had always dreamed of. In her last year of

study, while she was doing a clinical practicum at a hospital in Detroit, she met

a lovely internist who fell madly in love with her. Luckily for him, his

feelings were reciprocated, and they are now married and living in Grand

Rapids. They split their holidays between our family and her husband's family

in Detroit, and they stay with us for a few weeks each summer. Their son is as

thick as thieves with our daughter, and their imagination carries them through

endless adventures together.

Sharon was successful in her ambition to leave the peninsula

and see more of the world. She finished her undergraduate degree in creative

writing in Chicago before setting out to see the world, and she is still out

there wandering. But she sends us lots of pictures when she gets the chance,

and recently, Erin noticed that many of her pictures have the same very

attractive woman smiling in the background. I think it was probably a

coincidence, but Erin thinks otherwise. I sure hope Erin's right. There is

nothing I want more than for my family to find love and happiness. When the

spirit moves her to come home to us (with or without her friend), she will be

very welcome.

Mary spent months grieving her loss, but rather than turning

inward, she channeled her emotions into a triptych of paintings that firmly

established her as an upcoming talent in the world of art. She lived with us

for several years until James proposed, at which point they moved into one of

the cottages owned by the trust.

Unfortunately, James' family found out that he told Wilma

about their plans, and they disowned him. He had a few tough years, but Mary

helped him through, and when he turned eighteen, I took him on as an

apprentice. He now runs one of my crews. I used to worry that he loved Mary

more than she loved him and that the imbalance would lead to heartache. My

worries were put to rest when she painted her first portrait. James was her

subject, and I have never seen a painting more suffused with love and desire. A

few years later, a collector offered her an eye-watering amount of money for

it, but she politely declined.

As for Lane, well who knows what he will do with his life,

but he is carrying a 4.0 GPA, and the world is his oyster. He was sure

impressed by the lawyers who rained hellfire down on the McDougals, though, so

I suspect that he might be leaning that way in the future. He is also building

quite a following as a DJ, combining classics from the 40's and 50's with new

beats.

He recently started dating a new girl, and she is a real

sweetheart. We haven't told her about the day that he met Erin for the first

time; yet. But trust me, that time will come. But until it does, Lane is more

than happy to keep up with his chores and help out around the house. But what

he loves more than anything is to carry his rod out to the end of the dock and

fish, while the wind off the lake plays through his hair.

And then there is Erin and me. I have to say that things

have worked out pretty well for us, in the end. It took less than a year for me

to make use of Wilma's last gifts, and Erin and I were married the next summer

in the new park down by the dock. Wilma left her house and a few acres of land

to Erin, separate from the land trust, and we spent several years fixing it up

and expanding it so that my brother and sisters know that there is always a

place for them if they need it; for a day, a week, or a lifetime.

I am still not the best at taking orders or following

instructions; but gentle requests from the woman that I love, sealed with a

kiss on my cheek? It turns out that I am more than fine with those. And I am

still not always sure what a beautiful doctor sees in a plumber like me. But

rather than let my insecurity get the better of me, I have learned to accept my

good fortune with a smile.

One tradition that we've adopted as our own is that we make

time to dance together every Friday night. If we have guests, or family who are

home, they know that they will be joining us as well; Wilma's 'no wallflowers'

rule is still in full effect. Now that she is old enough, I am teaching our

daughter to dance, and her favorite thing in the world is to twirl around the

living room in her mommy and daddy's arms.

Some nights, when it's just the three of us and our daughter

has gone to bed, we let the soft crackle of Wilma's old 45s take us back. We

dance together with the lights down low, the music threading through the quiet

night like a whisper from the past. And when the music fades, we hold each

other close and listen to the voices of those we have loved, as they linger in

the wind off the lake.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

...more

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