Elly sorted through Evelyn's clothing, picking out the few designer pieces worth selling. Among these she chose a dark pair of slacks, a melon-colored blouse, and her aunt's favorite piece: a black blazer custom-embroidered with bright flowers and birds.

"It cost me a pretty penny, but it was worth every cent."

Elly lay the blazer on the bed.

"What do you think, my little chickadee?"

She ran her fingers over the silken threads.

"Try it on."

Elly took the blazer off the hanger and slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"And when I'm dead, you can have it."

With her fingertips peeking from the cuffs, Elly wrapped the lapels across her chest.

"It doesn't fit now, but when you're a bit older..."

Elly pressed her arm to her nose, inhaling the lingering scent of Evelyn's perfume mixed with the slight musty odor of the closet. She closed her eyes and saw Evelyn standing on her parents' backyard patio.

Aunt Evie turned in a circle, her arms outstretched. "It cost me a pretty penny, but it was worth every cent."

Grandma shook her head, chiding, "It's impolite to speak of cost."

"Pshaw." Evie swiped her hand toward her older sister. "We're all family here. Who else can I brag to?"

"It's beautiful," Mom said.

"Quite right." Aunt Evie cupped her hand under Elly's chin. "And what do you think, my little chickadee?"

"Can I touch it?"

"I'll do you one better. You can try it on." Evie took off the blazer and held it while Elly put her arms through. "Oh dear. A couple more inches and it could be a dress. Never mind that, though. It doesn't fit now, but when you're a bit older..."

"Do you really think I'll grow taller?"

"Of course. I did most of my growing in my teenage years. You're right on the cusp of that age. Take it off, now, that's a good dear. It's much too hot to wear today. But I'll let you try it on again." Evie winked. "And when I'm dead, you can have it."

"Oh, what a thing to say!" Grandma exclaimed.

"We're all going to die sometime. Talking about it doesn't make it happen any sooner."

"Hamburgers are done," Dad said, carrying a platter to the table.

"Rusty, you haven't given your two cents' worth." Evie held up her blazer. "What do you think?"

"You sure you won't need to work another year to pay for it?" he asked with a grin.

"This is my retirement gift to myself. As well as my birthday gift." Evie pointed a long finger at Grandma. "So don't you go grumbling about my spendthrift ways, Ellen. I've squirreled away more than enough to support my old age. And I plan to live a good, long time..."

Elly opened her eyes with a sniffle. She took off the blazer and put it back on the hanger. Some years prior, when she'd moved in with Evelyn, she'd once again tried on the blazer. Evelyn had shaken her head with sadness.

"I don't think you'll ever grow into it, Elly-bird. I guess you'll just have to bury me in it."

Elly hadn't wanted to think about that then. Overwhelmed with grief for her parents, she hadn't wanted to think about losing Evelyn, too.

Now Evelyn was gone. Once again she felt overwhelmed, not only with grief, but with decisions. So many decisions.

At least this one was easy. Almost two decades later, the bird blazer might still be worth a pretty penny, but it would stay with the one who loved it most.

Elly's thoughts drifted back to her parents' joint funeral. That day was a blur in her memories; a jumble of flowers, slow-driving cars, and sympathetic condolences from friends and strangers alike. Who had picked out her parents' burial outfits? Their caskets? The songs? She had been too much in shock to make any of those decisions. So who had?

Aunt Evie? Mrs. Bennell?

Elly vaguely remembered now being asked her opinion on such trivial matters.

My parents are dead and you're asking me to pick roses or carnations? I don't know. I don't care!

She should have cared. She should have helped. But she'd ignored their efforts, hoping she'd wake from the nightmare. Hoping there wouldn't be a funeral. That it was all a dreadful dream. A sick joke.

It hadn't worked. The funeral came and went. The house and furnishings were sold. She'd moved in with Evelyn. She'd gone on with her life, just as she would now.

Elly put the small stack of designer clothes in a box, laying Evelyn's burial outfit on top. She stuffed the remaining clothes and bedding in plastic bags to donate to the facility. Evelyn's partially used toiletries went into the trash along with a handful of birthday and Christmas cards. Elly boxed up the lamp, the clock radio, and the photo collages before snapping pictures of the furniture to list online.

She took a deep breath and looked around the dismantled room. This is what happens when the living depart. All that remains of their existence is a pile of material possessions parceled out to willing recipients. Soon Elly would have to deal with the storage unit holding the bulk of Evelyn's belongings. 

But she didn't have to think about that today.

The movers arrived to transport the furniture. As they hauled out the last piece, Elly took one last look at the empty room before shutting the door and following the men.

Tilly stood in the entrance hall, serenading all who exited. When she saw Elly, she burst into Some Enchanted Evening, her voice robust and beautiful. Elly stopped to listen with a bittersweet smile. Tilly gestured her arms, holding her hands high and wide as she sang about meeting a stranger and finding true love. When she reached the end, singing about never letting go, Elly lost her composure.

Elly let out a half laugh, half choking sob, wiping away the tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'm going to miss you, Tilly."

"Am I going anywhere?"

"No, but..."

"It looks like you're the one moving out. Were the accommodations not to your satisfaction?"

"Aunt Evie passed away."

"Did she now? Then she's on the greatest adventure imaginable. One that we'll all take someday."

Elly nodded and looked down.

Tilly held out her hands and took a step forward. Elly leaned in, letting herself be enveloped in the woman's ample arms, her head resting on Tilly's breasts.

Tilly stroked her hair. "There, there, little girl. We all lose those we love. Some days it's hard to keep on living when that happens. But we can't let it keep us down." She stepped back and cupped Elly's chin. "As long as we're alive, new adventures await. Untrod paths. Keep your eyes toward the future, not on the regrets of the past."

As Tilly released her, Elly sniffled and wiped her eyes with a nod. "Okay."

Mrs. Neubaum shuffled by, muttering to a leprechaun doll clutched in her hands. Tilly glanced at her before addressing Elly again. "If you ever need someone to talk to, this is the place to come. The conversations are never short of fascinating."

Elly let out a soft laugh. "Bye, Tilly." She moved toward the door.

"Goodbye, dear. Don't fear the future. Embrace it."

***

Elly pulled her car in front of her friend's home and turned off the ignition. She sat staring at the almost identical neighboring house. A section of the acorn pediment above the front door had broken off, and the once-white shutters were now blue and showed weathering. Otherwise the brick house looked well-cared for, as did the tidy front yard.

Elly exited the car and took her suitcase out of the trunk. As she strolled up Rachel's walkway, she looked again at the house next door, this time focusing on the second-story back window.

She envisioned the bedroom as she remembered it: soft pink walls, white dressers, a canopy bed with a pink and white afghan folded across the mattress.

She still had the afghan. Boxed up somewhere in the storage unit.

But she didn't want to think about that.

She turned her focus to Rachel's front door. Her friend took a minute to answer the doorbell, long enough for Elly to worry her planned arrival had been forgotten. Then the door flew open and Rachel stood there with a huge grin, holding a toddler on her hip.

"Janie!" Rachel stepped out and gave her a quick hug with her free arm. "Sorry for taking so long. I was in the middle of changing Noah's diaper. Come in, come in."

Elly followed her inside.

"Oh my gosh, it's so good to see you." Rachel flipped her hand toward Elly's suitcase. "Just leave it there. I have you in my old bedroom, but you don't need to carry it up now. Are you hungry? I was just about to make lunch." Rachel tilted her head to indicate Elly should follow before heading toward the kitchen.

"This place looks so different," Elly said as they passed through the dining room.

"Yeah. My parents took a lot of their furniture with them. I'm glad, because this place needed redecorating anyway."

"How are they doing?"

"Great." Rachel set a gurgling Noah into his highchair. "They love retirement. I thought for sure they'd get bored and want to come back. Start a new business or something. Nope. They've gotten the traveling bug. Six months ago they went to Israel and Egypt. Now they're on an Alaskan cruise."

"Wow."

"I know, right? We hardly ever went anywhere when I was a kid. Now they're spending my inheritance." Rachel giggled, brushing back a stray lock of hair and tucking it into her ponytail. "But I'm glad. They deserve to have some fun before they die." Her happy expression vanished, replaced by one of shock and regret. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Elly shook her head. "It's okay."

"No, I'm an idiot." Rachel placed her hand on Elly's arm, her brown eyes full of empathy. "I know it's been hard for you these last few years. And now your Aunt Evie." She wrapped both arms around Elly and gave her a squeeze.

Elly inhaled the familiar scent of Rachel's favorite floral shampoo, now mingled with the hint of baby powder.

Rachel leaned back, her hands moving to Elly's shoulders. "But it's so good to see you again. It's been forever."

Noah let out a cry, jerking his body and pounding his fists on the plastic tray. With a laugh, Rachel turned her attention to him. "Are you hungry?" she asked with sympathy. "Is mommy taking to long to make lunch?"

Noah stopped his protest and nodded, using his fist to make a knocking motion.

"Do you want a banana?" Rachel held her left index finger up and motioned down it with her other hand. "Banana?"

Noah nodded again. "Naana. Naana."

"Have a seat," Rachel said to Elly, motioning to the small kitchen table. "I'll have lunch made in a jiffy." She turned on the stove's burner, the gas flame flaring under a medium-sized pot.

Elly pulled out one of the two empty chairs and sat. The other two chairs contained booster seats, which prompted Elly to ask, "Where are the girls?"

"Seth took them out for a few hours," Rachel said, peeling a banana and cutting it onto a plate. "That way we'd have a bit of time to ourselves. He would've taken Noah too, but he's teething, so he's fussy and clingy right now."

As if on cue, Noah let out a sad wail before crying in earnest.

"Hey, don't cry," Elly said, patting his tiny shoulder. "Your mommy is almost done cutting your banana."

Noah looked at Elly in distress and ran his hand down his chest several times.

"What's that a sign for?" Elly asked Rachel as she walked over with the plate.

"Hungry." Rachel set the plate on the highchair tray and Noah stopped his wailing. He picked up a piece of fruit with two fingers and popped it in his mouth.

"That's right," Elly said with a smile. "It's been so long, I've forgotten most of the signs I knew. It's great your kids learn so early."

"I think they have fewer tantrums at this age when they can sign what they want. Helps me know that 'baba' is 'blanket' and not 'bottle.' And, of course, it makes it easier for them to talk to Miles and Erin."

Elly nodded at the mention of Rachel's brother and sister-in-law. "How are they?"

"Good." Rachel returned to the kitchen and took a bag of cheese ravioli from the freezer. "They moved to a house in East Falls last year. Ten minute commute for Erin."

"I didn't know that. They don't post on Facebook much."

"Erin's more Instagram. Their kids are on Snapchat." Rachel grinned at Elly. "I can't keep up with any of it." She shook her head as she checked under the pot's lid. "I'm lucky if I even get a shower."

"Do you miss working?"

Rachel pulled a couple plates from the cupboard. "I miss the adult interaction." She walked over to the table with a smirk. "Not that I had a lot of that anyway. I spent all day teaching kindergartners. What was nice was coming home to peace and quiet." She set a plate in front of Elly and the other beside her. "Now it's chaos from dawn to dusk. It's exhausting." Rachel took a deep breath and released it before running her hand gently over Noah's head with a contented smile. "But I wouldn't change a thing." Then with a laugh, she added, "Though eight hours of uninterrupted sleep would be nice." As if to punctuate her statement, she yawned. Covering her mouth, she opened a drawer.

"You want me to help with lunch?"

Rachel waved her hand, holding a couple forks. "No, I got this. I prepped beforehand."

"You always were the domestic."

Rachel grinned as she finished setting the table. "This reminds me of those fancy lunches I'd cook for us. Remember?"

Elly laughed. "I remember some God-awful grilled cheese sandwiches."

"You just didn't have any taste. White bread and processed American cheese. Yuck. No imagination."

"I'm sorry, but weird cheeses don't belong in grilled cheese. Neither does avocado. Or onions."

"You liked the one with bacon."

"I liked the bacon," Elly conceded with a nod.

Noah stuffed the last slices of banana into his mouth then tapped his sticky fingers together.

"I think he wants more," Elly said.

Rachel glanced over. "Of course he does. He's barely eaten the past couple days. Now his tooth has popped through and he's starving." She flipped over the corner of a tea towel on the counter, revealing wedges of focaccia bread. She brought one over to him, tearing it into small bits.

Noah screwed up his face at the pieces she dropped onto his plate. "No!" He tapped his fingers together again. "Naana. Naana."

"Eat your bread first, then you can have more banana," Rachel said, returning to the stove.

Noah kicked his legs and cried.

"Should I do something?" Elly asked.

"No. He'll get over it."

Noah's cries switched to shrieks of rage. He swiped his hand at the plate, sending it clattering to the floor.

"Or not," Rachel added mildly. Ignoring her son's tantrum, she opened the ravioli bag and dumped the contents into the steaming pot.

Elly shifted in her seat and resisted the urge to cover her ears. She wasn't equipped to handle this. She had little experience with children. She found them loud, messy and unpredictable, and this scene solidified her opinion. Thank goodness her pregnancy scare had been only that. She'd be helpless in the face of a screaming toddler.

Noah kicked his legs and banged the tray a few more times before stopping to catch his breath. Then he picked up a bread morsel that had landed on the tray. He examined it briefly before eating it and looking for more. "Momma," he said, and when Rachel turned, he tapped his fingers together.

"Are we done with our tantrum now? Are we ready to eat bread?"

Noah nodded after each question. Rachel tore up another wedge onto a clean plate which he ate without fuss.

"You're a good mom," Elly said.

Rachel smiled. "There are days when I sure don't feel that way. Those days I just lie on the sofa and hope by the time Seth gets home the kids are still alive and the house hasn't burned down. This will be our last one, I think. Though I said that about him." With a smile, she tilted her head toward Noah.

Elly looked at the toddler, then back at Rachel with confusion.

Rachel grinned and patted her abdomen. "This one's due in December."

 "Another one?" Elly immediately flushed with embarrassment at her inappropriate response. "I mean congratulations. Sorry." 

Rachel only laughed. "My mom had the same reaction. The girls were thrilled, though. They're hoping for another sister." She returned to the stove. "I'm just glad I'm not throwing up this time." She drained the pasta and brought it to the table along with a large bowl of salad and the remaining focaccia bread. "I have sparkling grape juice," Rachel said, pulling out a bottle from the fridge. "Or wine, if you prefer."

"No. Juice is fine. I've sworn off drinking."

"What? Why?" Rachel set the bottle on the table. "You're not..." She lay her hand on her abdomen again.

"No, no, not that." Elly dropped her gaze and let out a deep sigh. "I've just made a complete mess of my life, Rach. I don't know what to do anymore."