When the bills came—and kept coming—Tula had tried to bear it alone. And ultimately she had to make the decision of selling her house, her haven with George. Just like that. Forty years of memories boxed up and handed over. The ivy on the porch would now climb for someone else.
George had built that home for her. After his sudden death, it was the one place that still felt like him—warm, steady, full of Sunday jazz and lemon soap. Giving it up was like losing him all over again. She never told Ashley how much it hurt.