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As always, her mother spoke first. “I can't believe you bought a house that size. Do you have any idea what it's going to take to restore it and bring it up to code, let alone decorate and furnish it?” Her words never failed to sound like accusations to her daugh-ter's ears.

“I do. Even if it takes years, it's important to me. And if it's too much for me at any point, I can sell it.”

“And lose your shirt in the process,” Audrey said with a sigh, as Sarah's grandmother reached over and took her grandchild's hand in hers. She still had lovely, delicate hands, even at her age, and beautiful, long thin fingers.

“I think you did a wonderful thing, Sarah. I think we're all just a little surprised. I'd like very much to see it. I never thought I'd see that house again. I never thought I wanted to, but now that it's yours, I do.…” Itwas exactly the right thing to say. Mimi always came through, unlike Audrey.

“Could we go tomorrow, Mimi?” It would be Christmas Day. Sarah felt as she had as a child, showing her grandmother some project she had made, or a new puppy. She wanted Mimi to be proud of her, and her mother. It had always been harder to win praise from her mother.

“We'll go first thing in the morning,” Mimi said firmly, struggling to overcome her own emotions and fears. It was not an easy thing for her to go back there, but for Sarah, she would have braved every demon in hell, even her own private hell and painful memories. And George said he would go with her. That left Audrey.

“Fine. But don't expect me to tell you that you did the right thing. I don't think you did.”

“I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Mom.” Sarah looked pleased. She left a little while later, and drove home. She drove past Scott Street and smiled at the house. She had put a wreath on the door the day before. She couldn't wait to move in.

Phil called her at midnight, to wish her a merry Christmas. He said his children were having a great time, and so was he. He told Sarah he missed her, and she said the same to him, and felt sad after they hung up. She couldn't help wondering if she would ever have a man to spend holidays with. Maybe one day. Maybe even Phil.

The next morning she thought about calling Jeff to wish him a merry Christmas, but she was afraid Marie-Louise would answer. In the end, she didn't call. She went straight to the house on Scott Street, puttered around, and waited for her family to show up at eleven, as promised. They arrived only a few minutes late. Her mother had picked Mimi and George up, and pretended not to know they had spent the night together. They were inseparable these days. George definitely had the inside track now over Mimi's other suitors, Sarah teased her and said it was the golf lessons. Audrey said it was the house in Palm Springs. Whatever it was, it seemed to be working, and Sarah was happy for them. At least one woman in the family had a decent relationship. And it might as well be Mimi, she was so cute, and deserved to spend the remainder of her life happily. Sarah thought George was perfect for her.

Mimi was the first to come through the front door, looking around as though afraid to see ghosts. She walked slowly into the main hallway, with the others behind her, and went straight to the bottom of the grand staircase and looked up, as though she still saw familiar people there. As she turned to Sarah, there were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks.

“It looks exactly the way I remember it,” she said softly. “I always remember my mother coming down those stairs in beautiful evening gowns, with all her jewels and furs, and my father waiting at the bottom of the staircase in his tailcoat and top hat, smiling as he looked up at her. She was so wonderful to look at.” Sarah could easily imagine it, just from the single photograph she'd seen of her. There was something magical about Lilli, almost mesmerizing. She looked like a movie star or a fairy princess, or a young queen. Seeing her grandmother in the house now brought it all to life for Sarah in ways that nothing else ever could.

They wandered around the main floor for nearly an hour, as Sarah explained her plans for the house, and the location and design of the new kitchen. Audrey was very quiet as she examined the paneling and moldings and boiseries. She commented on the exquisite parquet floors that had come from Europe. And George was in awe of the chandeliers. Who wouldn't be?

“My father brought them over from Austria for my mother,” Mimi explained as they stood beneath them. They still couldn't be lit, but Jeff had already had someone come in to make sure they were firmly attached and wouldn't fall on anyone. So it was safe now to stand underneath them. “My governess told me about them once,” Mimi said thoughtfully. “I think two of them are Russian, the others are from Vienna, and the one in my mother's bedroom was from Paris. My father pillaged châteaux all over Europe when he built the place.” It was easy to see. The results were exquisite.

They spent another half hour on the second floor, looking at the sitting rooms, and standing in the ballroom, with its gilt and mirrors, paneling and inlaid floors. It was a work of art in itself. And then they went upstairs. Mimi went straight to her bedroom and her brother's. She felt as though she had last seen them yesterday. She couldn't even speak, standing there, as George put a gentle arm around her shoulders. Standing in these rooms again was a deeply emotional journey for her. Sarah almost felt guilty putting her through it, but at the same time, she hoped it might heal old wounds.

Mimi explained to them all about her mother's bedroom and dressing rooms, the furniture that had been there, the pink satin curtains and priceless Aubusson carpet. It had fetched a fortune at auction even in 1930, she had read later. She told them about her mother's gowns in the various closets, the outfits she had worn, the breathtaking hats that had been made for her in Paris. It was a legend like no other, and a history lesson listening to her. Audrey had been remarkably quiet the entire time they were there. In all her sixty-one years, she had never heard her mother speak to that extent, or any, about her childhood, and was amazed to realize how much she remembered. She had always thought that she was able to recall nothing. All she had known herself growing up as a child was that her mother's family had lost everything in the Crash of '29, that her father had died shortly after, and had left nothing. Audrey knew nothing about the people who had populated her mother's life as a child, the details of the disappearance of her maternal grandmother, or even of the existence of this house. Mimi had never spoken of any of it, and now the memories and stories tumbled out, like jewels from deep coffers, unlocked and spilling everywhere at last. It was a rich history they shared.

They examined the attic and basement for good measure, though there wasn't much to see there. Mimi remembered the elevator and how much she loved riding in it with her father, and the favorite downstairs maid she had sneaked up to see in the attic, whenever she could escape her governess.

It was nearly two o'clock by the time they finished their tour. Mimi looked exhausted, and even the others looked drained. It had been more than just a house tour, or a history lesson, it had been a trip into the past to visit people long forgotten, and revisited now because Sarah had pursued her dream, and included them.

“Well, what do you think?” Sarah asked, as they stood in the front hall, about to leave.

“Thank you,” Mimi said, and hugged her. “God bless you,” she said, as tears sprang to her eyes again. “I hope you will be happy here, Sarah. They were, for a time. I hope you always will. You deserve to be. You're doing a wonderful thing bringing this place back to life. I'd like to do whatever I can to help you,” she said, and meant it. George reached over and hugged Sarah, too.