the entire community, not just the community of her immediate friends. How to achieve this is something you’ll have to figure out on your own. You will also need to be alert to the pockets of resistance that exist here toward any project that would offer equal access to all elements of the community. I urge you to remain discreet and keep your plans as private as possible. Do your family members know what you are doing?”
“No, I haven’t confided in them. They know that she created a charitable foundation and that she made me a personal bequest, but that’s all.”
Mr. Perry appeared relieved. “I’m sorry if her requirements put you in an awkward position with regard to your family, but—”
“I understand,” Lizzy hastened to insist. “Those of my relations I would be tempted to confide in will give me the benefit of the doubt, and the others will believe what they wish regardless of anything I might say. I’m more concerned about the expectations of my aunt’s friends and acquaintances here. I imagine they will have questions and, as permanent residents of Lambtown, a greater legitimate interest in the outcome.”
“Perhaps I can smooth your way a little bit there,” said Mr. Perry. “I’m a member of the Live Poets reading group that included most of her closest friends, and I can explain your presence among us in a way that may deflect much of the curiosity. The natural assumption will be that you and your family, as her closest relatives, are all her heirs, and I can allow that assumption to stand without refuting it until you are prepared to unveil the library.”
“What about zoning? Isn’t Aunt Evelyn’s house in a residential district? Could there be legal concerns on that head?”
“She obtained a variance some years ago, when the idea first came to her, so it can’t be stopped in court. But I would caution you to bear in mind that it’s crucial to win the hearts of the community in this case, not just avoid legal challenges. And there may be some hurdles from the Planning Department.”
“My aunt specified some particular gifts and bequests for various friends in her letter to me, but I was wondering about her housekeeper, and the nurse who cared for her at the end. Did she provide anything for them, or should I be doing so?”
Mr. Perry nodded approvingly. “There are monetary bequests for both of them in a codicil to her will, and those will be paid in due course, after probate. I also have a set of keys to her house for you.” He went on to outline the financial details of the will and the charitable foundation with Elizabeth, offering some helpful advice on developing a work plan and a budget. They parted with on each side a favorable impression of the other.
Lizzy’s first aim was to visit Evelyn’s house, and as it was an object with her to make this first visit alone, she set off immediately, while the rest of her family was elsewhere. Even John’s company would not have been completely welcome as she faced the empty rooms and gardens that her aunt had inhabited: he did not share the memories and emotions that such scenes would evoke, nor did she feel equal to describing them.
On turning the corner and approaching the house, Lizzy was surprised to find that the garden was in tolerable order. To her expert eye it was clear that someone had continued to care for it during Aunt Evelyn’s illness, perhaps even after her death. Changes had occurred in the years since her last summer visit to Lambtown; she recalled an English-style garden of lawn, roses, and mixed perennials, but now few traces of such a charming but unsuitable design remained. In its place were hardy natives and Mediterranean-climate plants, most of them unfamiliar to an Ohio girl, and she realized that here was another wall of learning for her to scale. She knew from reading that the seasonal cycles of rain and drought prevailing in California required unfamiliar adaptations from plant and gardener alike, and wondered where the nearest nursery might be. If she were to revive her landscaping business here, she would need to master at least the basics without loss of time.
For now she paused briefly to admire the skill with which Aunt Evelyn had laid out the garden—most drought-tolerant landscapes she had seen in photographs were casual sprawls of ill-assorted plants, but here the loose forms were arranged with discipline and respect for fundamental principles of design, and the counterpoise of tradition with an unfamiliar plant palette was pleasing and intriguing to her eye. This early in February, little was blooming save for narcissi tucked into the corners, but everything had been tidied after the last growing season, and already fresh shoots were starting to appear.
But she was here for a purpose, not to loiter about admiring a garden. Giving herself a little shake, Lizzy turned to enter the house. She had always loved the building’s wide-armed Craftsman style, but its simplicity and heavy grace were inextricably bound up with her aunt’s presence there. Now it was impossible not to fear that some of the grace might be lost—would it be just a house like any other?
It was not. Indoors as well as out, all was well-kept, though a thin film of dust coated the surfaces inside and the air felt a little stuffy; but on every side were objects her aunt had treasured, which spoke of her interests, her passions, her personality, her sense of humor. The rooms were not cluttered, but well-stocked with the signifiers of a lively mind and an active life. Reminders of places she had been, beliefs she had held, and friends she had held dear were everywhere—and the books especially told tales of the person she was. Lizzy wandered, and touched, and smiled or speculated on the meaning of all she saw.
The kitchen was the room that really brought home to her the finality of her aunt’s absence. There were no odors of food, no dishes in the drying rack, no fruits in the bowl on the counter, only a dish towel folded neatly and hanging on a hook. She had never seen anything so empty. After that, she could not quite bring herself to go into her aunt’s bedroom—not just yet.
Instead, Lizzy sat down in the dining room and unfolded the letter from her aunt. She made a list of all the things Evelyn had wanted friends to have, and then passed the next half-hour locating what she could of these items and laying them out on the table. She found her aunt’s address book and labeled each gift with the name and phone number of the recipient. The activity focused her memories on the associations inspired by this or that in the house, and it was painful to think of sending these mementos off to live elsewhere. But she was a young woman, and her mind would not look backwards for long. Soon her imagination turned to picturing how the house was to be turned into a library that would become a gathering place for all of Lambtown, and she was going from room to room, picturing a children’s story circle here, computers over there, and rows of chairs for readings and book signings in the parlor in front of the fireplace.
While she was thus occupied, she was startled by a knock at the front door. A lady of about her father’s age, who seemed vaguely familiar, was on the doorstep, eyeing her with a little suspicion. Lizzy introduced herself and added, “I think we may have met some years ago? You were a friend of my aunt’s?”
Much relieved, the lady cried, “Oh, you’re Elizabeth! I’m so glad you’ve arrived. Yes, Evelyn and I were very close, especially the last few years, and I remember meeting you when you were a child. I’m Mary Gardiner; I live across the street, and have been keeping an eye on the house since it’s been unoccupied.”
Lizzy invited her in and did the honors of the house as best she might, with nothing in the fridge or pantry save a bottle of sparkling water and an old packet of cookies. Nibbling at the cookies in the living room, Lizzy and her guest both laughed and agreed that their heyday was past. Lizzy, recalling that among the items on her aunt’s list were a few for Mrs. Gardiner, jumped up and went to collect them from the dining table. She shyly offered to her guest a first edition of Elizabeth and Her German Garden and a delicate antique Chinese perfume bottle.
“My aunt left me some instructions for gifts she wanted to offer to various friends,” she explained. “These are what I have located so far for you.”
