“Noah, you should take your grandmother with you to Germany. She could show you the place that she and your grandfather lived. You know, I think the farm is a B & B now. I bet they’d give you a discount on rooms.”
Charlotte really wanted her son to spend some time with his grandmother, Ruth. She regretted that they barely ever visited her mother, especially since Noah started college. Now, he was going on a short trip to Germany to get inspiration for his MFA work in art. This would be the perfect opportunity for him to develop a closer relationship with his grandmother before it was too late. Plus, Charlotte knew that her mother hadn’t been back to Germany since she fled in 1938. Ruth almost never talked about her childhood and early adulthood in Germany, but Charlotte thought she might want to go back at least once and finally get some closure.
“Mum, I really don’t see why dragging her along will help me at all with my work. She’ll just be a distraction,” Noah said back, flipping the phone to his other ear.
“Just go visit her this weekend and ask her along,” Charlotte said.
Noah rolled his eyes, not that his mother could see over the phone. “Fine, Mum, if I have to. But you know how strapped for cash I am, can’t really afford to take her on an extravagant vacation. We’ll stay in the old farmhouse if we can, and that’ll be it. Hopefully, it’ll be quiet there so I can paint in peace.”
After exchanging a bit more small talk, the two hung up and Noah set to preparing for his visit the following day.
*****
The train ride from Noah’s college in London to his grandmother’s house in the countryside was slow and scenic, but Noah didn’t pay much attention to the views outside of the window. He was more worried about how he could politely invite his grandmother to go to Germany with him, while also making it clear that he would be working on his art, not chaperoning her vacation. He desperately needed inspiration for his portfolio and figured a nice work trip to the German countryside would do magic for his landscape pieces. He didn’t even think about his grandmother’s history in that country when planning out his escape.
However, when he finally made it to his grandmother’s small cottage, it was clear that his mother had already called and spilled the news.
“Oh, Noah,” his Oma Ruth crooned from her chair on the front porch as he walked up the steps.
“Hi, Oma. I hope you haven’t been sitting out here waiting for too long.”
Noah hated small talk. And since he didn’t know his grandmother all that well, it seemed like that was what they’d be doing for the duration of their time together. He sighed in his head, resigned to the fact that he’d be uncomfortable for the next few weeks.
The pair walked into the two-bedroom cottage, which Ruth chose for its location that was supposedly reminiscent of the German country. Noah wasn’t sure about that, considering she used to live on a farm in the middle of nowhere, but he wasn’t about to question it. As he set his travel bag down in the guest room, Oma Ruth told him that she was preparing supper and that he should wash up and come help her set the table.
Ruth had always stuck to her German roots, although she had now lived in Britain for sixty years. She kept a tidy and efficient house, made a hearty supper every evening, and always maintained a certain kind of respect towards her guests, which regrettably weren’t many. When she first came to the country in 1938, she was alone, pregnant, and German. She struggled to garner friendships and kindness in the country where everyone held an immediate grudge against her thick German accent.
Over time she became settled in her solitude, got a simple job at the local deli, and was able to provide for her baby daughter, Charlotte, as best she could. But Ruth never grew out of that self-isolation. Even when her neighbors started to recognize her as the sweet young mother that she was, Ruth refused the pity that they wanted to give her. She would make her way on her own until her husband would join her to raise their child together in England.
But then she received a letter, two years after fleeing Germany. Her sister-in-law managed to track down her location in England and sent her the most heartbreaking news of her life. Ruth’s husband was dead.
It took Ruth years to stop expecting her husband to walk through the door. She knew it was illogical, but she couldn’t help wishing the letter was wrong and he was alive. Ruth never remarried, even though she struggled so much as a single mother in the mid-twentieth century. But her daughter and her traditions were two things that she cherished dearly, which pushed her to keep moving forward. And when her daughter left the nest to build her own family, Ruth was content. She had a beautiful daughter and a handsome grandson, whom she loved dearly. She lived for the past forty years alone, but she was as happy as she could be.
Every time Noah came to visit, which wasn’t often, Ruth would cook a delicious roast served up with creamy potatoes. Tonight was no different. The two ate in relative silence aside from the murmur of the old radio in the kitchen. Ruth always liked to listen to music, and Noah was appreciative of the sound. It made the meal companionable rather than uncomfortable. But soon enough, Noah was stuffed to the brim and supper was over. He helped his grandmother clean the dishes, dreading the conversation that they would have afterward. It’s not that he didn’t like his grandmother, he just preferred to be left alone with his artwork in peace.
The two made their way over to the cozy living space. They both sipped on coffee and nibbled biscuits until Noah finally spoke.
“Oma, I know Mum probably already told you, but I’m planning a work trip to Germany next month.”
“Ja, I know. Your mother phoned last night. I remember the German countryside being quite beautiful this time of year. It’ll be very good for your artwork,” Ruth smiled and the lines in her face crinkled. She never spoke much about Germany, but when she did, it was always with a certain fondness for the country that she grew up in.
“Oma, Mum said it would be good if you came with me. We can get rooms in your old farmhouse and you could get some closure… that is, if you’re up to it.”
Ruth looked surprised. Obviously, Charlotte had not told her of the reason for Noah’s last-minute weekend visit to his grandmother’s house.
“Noah, Liebling, you know I haven’t been back since I left. Your mother has tried to take me many times before but I couldn’t bring myself to see that country again. The memories…” she trailed off.
Noah was just beginning to think that the conversation was over and he would be going by himself after all when Ruth spoke again.
“Okay, I will go. After all, it has been so long and I do wish to see the house again. And I’ll be with you, my favorite grandson, to share in my memories.”
*****
A week later, the pair boarded a train in London and started the journey to Ruth’s old farmhouse in the German countryside. Luckily, Noah didn’t run into any issues booking train tickets and reserving rooms in the farmhouse. The owners sounded like lovely people on the phone, and Noah was looking forward to a nice meal and a quiet space to paint when they arrived.
Ruth, on the other hand, looked more nervous than Noah had ever seen her. She was fidgeting with the clasp on her pocketbook, flipping it open and closed over and over again. Noah’s grandmother was always put together in front of strangers, and to her, fidgeting with a clasp would normally be unacceptable behavior. Noah could tell something was bothering her, something that was more troubling to her than appearing nervous in public. He suspected that she might be having second thoughts about going back to Germany, even though she would be completely safe and at no risk of being whisked away by German soldiers. But he also knew that the end of her time in Germany sixty years before was terrifying and traumatic. Noah, in an
uncharacteristic act of affection, reached over and tenderly held his grandmother’s hand. She glanced up to him, the crease between her brows deep and the surface of her eyes glassy.
“Are you okay? Do you feel alright?” Noah asked Ruth.
“I apologize, Liebling, this is just bringing back a lot of memories for me already. I think I will rest my eyes until we arrive at our next stop,” Ruth said, softly gripping Noah’s hand before relaxing her posture to the slightest degree.
The following few hours passed uneventfully, the two sitting in silence as the train chugged through the trees and fields.
By the time they finally made it to the small town in Germany in which the farmhouse resided, the pair both appeared to be exhausted. Not only was it a physically tiring trip with few opportunities to walk around and stretch their legs, but more so it was an emotionally tolling trip for Ruth. The last hour of the trip was filled with familiar landscape and sights, prompting a surge of memory and feeling within Ruth. Although he was silent for the majority of the train ride, having Noah by her side comforted the melancholic grandmother greatly.
When they stepped off the train platform, a man walked up to the two, a broad smile on his face. He greeted Ruth and Noah, introducing himself as Elias, owner of the farmhouse B & B that they had booked their rooms in. Ruth’s old farmhouse. Elias was trying to introduce himself and tell the two that he had driven over from the farm to pick them up, but was clearly struggling to speak to the two in English.
Oma Ruth smiled. “You can speak with us auf Deutsch,” she said, switching effortlessly to German. “It has been so long since I’ve been surrounded by the language. Not too many people back in England were able to speak German with me…”
“And the boy?” Elias asked, also switching back into German.
“I can get by,” Noah said, thanking God that his mother had pushed him to learn some of his grandmother’s native language growing up.
The three packed the luggage into Elias’s car, and got settled in for a half hour ride to the farm, located on the outskirts of town. Ruth stared out the window the entire time, mentally cataloging all of the changes that had been made to her small town. The roads had been repaved and a few new buildings were standing in the center of town. Ruth was surprised, though, to see that all of the small town charm was still intact after all these years. Her favorite locations were still there: the cobblestone-paved town square where her husband proposed to her, the corner store where she always went for her groceries, the tree- and field-lined street leading out to the countryside. Her mind was filled with so many memories that it seemed as if the drive back to the farm passed in the blink of an eye.
*****
Elias showed them to their small but tidy rooms in the farmhouse. Ruth noticed how the place was completely renovated yet still felt like home. Noah noticed the balcony that led out behind his bedroom, which had a wonderful view of the fields and trees behind the house. He couldn’t wait to set up an easel on that balcony and start painting. Shortly after they put their luggage in their rooms and freshened up, the dinner bell rang and the pair walked back downstairs together into the formal dining room.
A woman was there, setting out platters of mashed potatoes, gravy, chicken, and other assorted dishes, way too many for just four people. Presumably, she was Louisa, the wife of Elias and head of the B & B. As soon as she saw Noah and Ruth step into the room, she rushed over to them, kissed them on the cheeks, and introduced herself. Her cheerful manner matched her husband’s and instantly put the guests at ease.
Ruth was impressed by the meal. Not that the home cooking of dinners back in Britain was bad, but the experience of eating a German meal in her old house was overwhelming and gratifying at the same time. She made it back, finally. And she was happy that the house had been fixed up by such a lovely couple.
Louisa and Elias were telling Ruth about the renovations while they casually enjoyed the meal. They had obtained the house in 1975. It had fallen into disrepair after the war, since Ruth had to flee and her husband passed away. There was nobody left to take care of the farm through all of the fighting and the troops and the bombs, so the place needed some serious picking up. All except for the hardy stone foundation had to be refurbished or completely remade. However, they had maintained a lot of the original style and feel of the house, from the wood paneling in the hall to the large windows in the kitchen.
“We found all kinds of interesting items throughout the house and the barn,” Louisa was saying, “I would have to say my favorite piece was the old writing desk that was in the study. It had such character and was actually in pretty good condition. There were a bunch of little trinkets in the drawers as well that were so cute! Ruth, maybe tomorrow I could show you the boxes of things that we couldn’t find places for. Oh, it’ll be so much fun going through all those beautiful old things again!”
As soon as Ruth heard Louisa mention the trinkets, she perked up, like she had just caught hold of a particularly potent memory. Noah looked at her with interest, hoping for a quick translation of whatever had caught her interest, considering how much he was struggling to keep up with Louisa’s ramblings.
“You…you didn’t happen to find a brooch with the rest of the trinkets and jewelry, did you? It’s a few centimeters across, shaped like a flower with a pearl laid in the center- but it’s not expensive. I…I gave it back to my husband right before I left, for him to hold on to. I told him, ‘Bruno, when you come to find me in England, you will bring this back to me. You know I wouldn’t leave it if I knew you wouldn’t make it.’ And, and that was the last time I saw him…” she trailed off, tears in her eyes.
“Oh, Ruth, I’m so sorry. We didn’t find anything like that, not even in the jewelry box,” Louisa said while Elias handed Ruth a tissue.
Noah reluctantly took his grandmother’s shaking hand, giving it a squeeze. “Oma, I’m sure Louisa and Elias would love to go through the old boxes with you, maybe you’ll be able to find it hidden inside a drawer or something.”
Ruth glanced up, a little hurt that her grandson wouldn’t help her search for this object that had held so much meaning for her. But instead of voicing her discontent, she said her thanks to Louisa for supper and told everyone that she was going to turn in for the night. She would start looking for the brooch in the morning.
*****
At about eight in the morning, Noah was out on his balcony with a steaming cup of coffee and a sketchbook, ready to get some work done. While this farmhouse wasn’t a part of his original plans, he was glad that his mother had suggested he stay here. He couldn’t have hoped for a better place to sketch and paint. The crisp air sent a lazy breeze through the trees at the edge of the property, with fields of waving wildflowers and a small orchard leading up to the house. He could even see the barn out of the corner of his eye, settled behind the orchard towards the left edge of the property. Originally, he was planning on taking short trips around town to find different scenes to paint, but there was so much already at the farm that leaving probably wouldn’t be necessary.
Noah spent most of the day out on the balcony, at first sketching a couple ideas before pulling out his travel easel and paints, settling down for a longer paint session after lunch. His grandmother had also had a busy morning. While Noah was secluded on his balcony, Ruth had enlisted the help of Louisa in going through the old boxes of knick-knacks from the original farmhouse. Louisa had been more than happy to help, like Noah had suggested last night, and kept chattering on pleasantly to Ruth while they slowly made their way into the mess of items.
Ruth had recognized many of the objects in the boxes, from Bruno’s old letter opener that he had gotten from his father, to the matching silver candlesticks that were a wedding gift to the newlyweds and had starred in many a dinner party before the war. Louisa enjoyed listening to Ruth’s reminiscing. Mostly, it was just a quiet intake of breath from Ruth every time they pulled a new item out of the boxes, followed by a comment from Louisa about how and where they found the object, with a possible mention by Ruth about how she and her husband obtained it and what they used it for. This process went on for a few hours until the ladies took a break for lunch. They made some simple coldcut sandwiches with a classic German potato salad, and sat in the kitchen while they ate with the windows thrown open to welcome a cool breeze.
After they had eaten, Louisa excused herself to make a run into town to bring Elias his lunch at the hardware store, where he worked part-time to cover the costs of running the farm. Ruth found herself alone with her memories of the house. She decided to bring a box out to Noah’s balcony, where she hoped to sit with him while he painted.
“Guten tag, Liebling,” she said as she stepped out of his door onto the small balcony. Noah looked up from his painting, sending his grandmother a quick smile. “Hi, Oma. How is your search going?”
Ruth sighed contemplatively. She was disappointed that she hadn’t found the brooch yet, but she had to admit that the search through her old items was enjoyable.
“Quite alright. No sign of the brooch yet, but it has only been one morning, after all,” she responded in English, knowing her grandson was struggling some with the German that everyone had been speaking in.
“Would you mind if I joined you out here for the afternoon?” Ruth asked Noah.
He wasn’t exactly happy to have his peace and quiet interrupted, but supposed he should spend some time with his grandmother, since he was the one that brought her to Germany in the first place.
The two sat together for the entire afternoon, the only sounds being the quiet melodies flowing from the radio down the hall and the clinking of glass and metals as Ruth went through her boxes. Maybe the two of them didn’t know each other that well, but they both loved a peaceful afternoon spent in companionable silence. This would become a daily occurrence over the next week in the farmhouse, with the only difference being what Ruth was working on day to day. Sometimes she would go through old boxes, other times she would curl up in a chair with a blanket thrown over her, reading a book or knitting a sweater.
About a week after they arrived, Ruth had asked Elias if he could bring her into town for the morning. She had gone through almost all of her old objects and had even started going through little nooks and crannies in the farmhouse, believing wholeheartedly that the brooch had been hidden away in the house by her husband before he died. She decided a trip into town might be good for her, and even managed to convince Noah to come along for the short trip. Granted, he would probably just sit in the square and sketch, but she felt like they were creating a deeper connection by just being in this town together and wanted to spend as much time with her only grandson while she had the chance.
The trip into town was scenic but uneventful, and half an hour later, Elias dropped them off in the square and told them he’d be back at lunchtime to drive them home again. The pair strolled around the square, Ruth’s arm tucked in Noah’s. She was normally able to walk just fine on her own but all the traveling seemed to weaken her just slightly, so Noah supported her as they walked. Eventually, they made their way to a bench with a perfect view of the charming storefronts and the people going by. The two sat there for a while, Noah sketching the scene in his pad. Ruth saw an antique store that she used to visit quite often as a young woman and told Noah that before they had to leave, she would like to take a look inside. Perhaps her brooch had ended up there, waiting to be sold to another man as a gift to his new bride. That thought was pleasant enough, but Ruth really couldn’t bear the thought of her brooch, the one that Bruno had given her when they were married, the one that he had spent almost a month’s savings on, being sold to another couple.
“Hey, Oma?”
“Ja, Liebling?”
Noah glanced up at his grandmother, pulling his pencil away from his completed sketch. “What do you think of my sketch?” he asked her. “Oh, Noah, I love your sketch. I’ve always been proud of your talent and I am so proud that you decided to come here, to my hometown, to find inspiration for your artwork,” she told him, squeezing his hand.
He smiled shyly, not used to praise from his grandmother. He had never asked her for her thoughts on his art, but to get such a compliment from Ruth was extremely gratifying. He didn’t realize how much he cared for his grandmother’s opinion of his work until they had started spending more time together. Not that he would admit it out loud, but he was so glad that his mum had suggested he take his grandmother. This trip had been so productive and he felt a lot more relaxed in Ruth’s presence. The two made their way over to the antique store after Noah packed up his art supplies. The storefront had big glass windows with chairs and tables stuffed with knick-knacks and other old doodads on display. A bell over the door dinged as Ruth and Noah made their way inside.
The first thought that struck Noah as they walked in was about the sheer amount of things packed into the small store. No doubt about it, whoever owned this store had a clear passion for the antiques. The second thing that Noah noticed were the two other people in the store, both standing behind the cashier’s counter. One of them was a young man, maybe a couple of years older than Noah with blond hair that was almost white. The other person was an old woman, whose hair was actually white. As soon as the woman looked up to see who entered the store, a flash of recognition struck her wrinkled face.
“Ruth, is that you? No, it can’t be…Johannes, there are two people standing there, right?” the woman asked.
The blond turned towards the newcomers. “Welcome to my Oma Ilse’s antique store. What can I help you find today?” His eyes scanned over the two, probably trying to figure out who they were, seeing as the town didn’t get many new people visiting. Ruth stepped forward, peering at the other older woman. “It…it is me. Ruth. How did you recognize me, Ilse?”
“Why, the boy looks just like Bruno, of course. Oh, Ruth, my condolences on his death. I never knew what happened to you, but it seems like you did well and started the family on your own,” Ilse said, moving around the counter and settling in an oversized chair on the customer’s side.
“Please, sit down with me and catch up. Johannes, could you go make some tea for our guests?”
Ruth sat in the other big chair in the makeshift sitting area. Noah was left to stand awkwardly behind the women, fidgeting with his bag. Johannes quickly returned with a tea tray and went to stand next to Noah, as there weren’t any other chairs nearby to sit in and not enough room to move any over. The women had started talking about Ruth’s hardships in fleeing her home, how she felt like she had to leave for the safety of her unborn baby, with the threat of Ruth’s half-Jewish heritage threatening them. How Bruno had stayed to defend their home and had promised to join them after the war, but was struck down shortly after Ruth left. Ilse had stayed in the town and had eventually taken over the antique store. The two shared memories of visiting the store as young girls, pacing up and down the stuffed isles to find hidden gems among the clutter.
After a while, Ruth asked about the brooch, if Ilse remembered ever seeing it and even if she had it somewhere in the store. Sadly, Ilse said no. Nothing from Ruth’s old farmhouse had made its way to the antique store, and Ilse hadn’t heard of Bruno trying to sell anything before he died. She suggested looking around the farmhouse more.
“Did you two ever talk about a hidden place to store your valuables in case the troops came through? I know me and my husband had a little hidey-hole under the floorboards where we put the jewelry and silver,” Ilse said.
“Actually, yes, Bruno and I had talked about creating a little nook somewhere in the house, but never got around to creating it, to my knowledge. And the new owners never mentioned a hidden nook anywhere.”
Noah spoke up from his place in the back. “That’s true, they never did. But remember how they said the foundation didn’t need any updates? They probably left the whole basement untouched, so maybe your little cubby is down there.”
Ruth’s face lit up, excited by the new task and the possibility of still finding the brooch. After chatting with Ilse and Johannes for a bit, the visitors took their leave, promising to stop by once more before their trip ended.
*****
When they finally made their way back to the farmhouse, it was too late in the day to start digging around in the basement for the hidden nook. But Ruth awoke bright and early the following day to begin the new search. Noah thought she looked more alive than he had ever seen her. She seemed energized, and her spirit put Noah in such a good mood to help her.
On Louisa and Elias’s recommendation, the two started their search on the left side of the basement, which had only gotten a cursory glance by the owners when they had done their renovations. They really only used the section closest to the stairs, so if there was a hidden cubby down there, most likely it was on the far side.
Ruth held the flashlight while Noah did most of the work. His young body was a lot more able than Ruth’s for the task of moving heavy boxes and reaching higher up to search for loose blocks in the foundation. It was arduous work, and they took a lot of short breaks. They sipped on mineral water and ate little ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Noah was too tired to continue for much longer after lunchtime, and in the evening he painted while Ruth filled her time with mindless activities, too focused on the search to put much effort into anything else.
After having no luck on the first day of searching, and none on the second day either, Ruth could see her grandson giving up some of his earlier enthusiasm to help her. She knew in her heart that they would find the cubby soon, so she promised him that if he could just do one more day of looking with her, she wouldn’t ask him for anything else the entire trip. Then, near lunchtime on the third day, Noah discovered a loose stone in the foundation about six meters from where they started two days before. He had his grandmother step up onto a box in order to shine the flashlight closer to the loose block. She looked so excited, she was practically vibrating. Noah ran his fingers along the edges of the block, gripped it on the right and left sides, and gave it a heave forward. The block tumbled out of the foundation, almost bringing Noah down with it. He helped his grandmother move closer, letting her take the first look in the hole that had been left empty by the block.
“Oh, Liebling! This is it! Bruno made the cubby hole after all and…and here is his nice watch, and our wedding picture (oh, it’s perfect!), and this is it, Noah! The brooch that your grandfather gave me all those years ago,” Ruth said, pulling the objects out of the hole and holding them close to her chest.
She started to sob as Noah helped her off of the box and pulled her into a hug for the first time since he was a child. He couldn’t help but tear up too, influenced by Ruth’s strong emotional reaction. The two stood there, in the dusty farmhouse basement, for a long time before Ruth pulled herself together enough for them to go up the stairs. Noah got his grandmother settled in a cushy chair in the living room and ran to the kitchen for a steaming cup of tea to calm her. When he made his way back to the living room, Ruth had mopped up her tears with a tissue and was also wiping off the dusty items.
“Oma, I brought you some tea,” he said.
Ruth thanked him and motioned for him to sit down next to her. She pressed his grandfather’s watch into his hands, and said, “Liebling, this belongs to you. Your Opa Bruno would’ve loved you, his only grandson, and he would have wanted you to have it. Now, you take good care of it, hear me?”
Noah tried to refuse the extremely generous gift, but Ruth insisted and he gratefully thanked her. Then she stared at the brooch in her hands, examining the pearl in the center and the delicate petals splayed around it.
“Noah, I don’t think I ever told you when your Opa gave this to me. It was right after we moved into this farmhouse. We had been married for only six months before this place became our own, and I was such a happy woman. I had a wonderful husband, a beautiful house, and although we weren’t especially wealthy, I had everything that I had ever wanted. And then Bruno gave me this brooch. I wore it almost religiously, almost like it was a second wedding ring. Maybe it wasn’t the most expensive piece of jewelry I owned. That didn’t matter to me. And now that I have it back, it still doesn’t matter how much I could receive for it because it’s priceless in my mind. I hope someday for you to have an item that means so much to you because of the love it contains in it, and I hope that watch is a starting place for that.”
Tears welled in Noah’s eyes and he hugged his grandmother, speechless after the outpouring of love that he felt.
*****
For the rest of their visit in Germany, the two were almost inseparable. Each morning, they sat on Noah’s balcony like they had in the first week with Noah painting and Ruth reading or knitting. Except now, they took strolls around the property in the afternoon and they talked about Ruth’s memories of her home and of Noah’s grandfather. Sometimes they went into town and always made sure to visit the antique store.
A week and a half after they had discovered the hidden cubby, however, it was time to return to England. Noah had filled almost an entire sketchbook and had more paintings than he knew what to do with. Ruth had her brooch back and her memories refreshed. She was more than just content like she had been for most of her life. Now, she was happy.
“Liebling,” she said as he was packing his paints up for the last time in the farmhouse, “I want to stay.”
“Stay? Oma, your house is in England. Mum and I are in England. Why would you want to stay?” Noah asked.
“Maybe you’ll understand when you’re older, but I just feel like myself here. My life never ended in Germany, not even after I fled. I talked to Ilse at the antique store and she has an extra room that I could stay in. I wouldn’t be lonely anymore, and I’d be in the town I belong in,” she said, and Noah knew there was no convincing her otherwise.
“Okay, Oma. I understand. But if you stay here, then you have to let me visit often. I won’t be able to get away for a while until I get settled into my degree program, but after that, I could see myself coming to visit a lot more often. With how much I was inspired in my artwork during this short trip, it would be silly not to. So, I respect your wish, Oma. I’m glad that you want to stay.”
The two had trouble parting ways, but Noah did visit as often as he could. After he finished his MFA program, he managed to get a teaching position in the area and moved into the town permanently. His mother, Charlotte, even came and visited sometimes. And when his grandmother passed away, she was buried on the tree-lined edge of the farmhouse property, surrounded by the friends and family that loved her so dearly.