Rachel’s Legacy

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

I live in a small two-bedroom condo, a mile from McGill. I bought it because I figured if I ever needed money, I could rent out the second bedroom. Or I could use it as an office if my consulting work got busy. It stretched my budget, but I’ve already paid off fifteen years of the mortgage. It would have been paid off in another five, but the refinancing added another two or three years, even though I had paid some of that back.

I had started refinancing it when Mom was sick, but she died before I could use all the money. It made it a little more expensive, but the tension it had relieved in my life was well worth it.

Rachel came to my place the next night. I fixed a Mediterranean dish that I’d always loved: lemon chicken and an arugula salad with almonds. I also made a rice and squash casserole nestled in grape leaves. I’d splurged and bought a bottle of Glenfiddich and a half-pound of feta cheese for the casserole.

We spent the evening getting to know each other. At first it was difficult. Neither of us had ever had a sibling, so it took some practice before we learned the fine art of sisterhood.

We had also had different upbringings. Rachel thought nothing of spending money. She had so much of it she didn’t even look at price tags. I was trying to save money, so I had a strict budget. I bought the best-made clothes because they’d have to last me for a while. Rachel bought the best-made clothes because she could afford them.

After we’d eaten, I showed her Mother’s paintings. I had them all in the second bedroom, except for the two I had hanging on the walls in my living room.

“Mother was such a good painter,” she exclaimed when she saw the collection I had. “Was she trained or was it a natural talent?”

“She took a few classes at McGill but mostly, she just painted what she felt and saw.”

“Did she sell many?”

“A few,” I answered, “But she didn’t display a lot. I tried to get her to show them at a gallery downtown. But she didn’t think she was that good.”

“She was extremely talented. I bet you could make a lot of money on them. Do you want me to contact galleries in BC?”

I stopped to think. “No. They’re the only things we have left of her. I don’t think I could sell them. Besides, neither of us needs the money that badly.”

Rachel nodded. “Could I buy one?”

“No.” I was amazed. “You can have one. She was your mother, too, wasn’t she?”

Rachel looked around at the dozen I had spread out in the second bedroom. “Can I take that one with me?” She pointed to one in subdued tones of a landscape. It looked like it had just rained.

“Of course. That was one of her favorites.”

Rachel looked at me, her eyes wide. “Then do you want to keep it? I can choose another.”

“No.” I smiled. “Take it. I have others.” I didn’t want to tell her that I had never really liked it. I knew it was one of Mother’s best.

It was well after midnight when she called a taxi to take her back to the hotel.