Heather knelt before her mother's grave, her hands trembling as she traced the engraved letters with her fingertips. The cemetery was quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. It had been years since she'd last visited, but after everything that happened at the hospital, she felt drawn to this place, to the peace it offered, to the connection it promised.
"Mom," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "I'm not sure if you'd recognize me now. I've changed, I know I have. But I hope, I hope you'd be proud of the woman I've become."
She sat back. The only memories she had of her mother, were the ones she was told by her nannies and maids. She never really knew her mother. But she remembered her mother humming while brushing her hair. Her voice. So soft and calm. Heather had spent years wishing for one more moment, one more chance to hear her voice.
"My father disowned me, Mom," Heather said bitterly. "And now I don't even know if I should keep his last name. Remington. Maybe it's time to let it go. To start fresh. What do you think?" The silence was her only answer, and Heather let out a shaky sigh.
After hours of sitting on the stone, she stood, brushing dirt from her jeans.
"Help! Please, I'm lost!" The voice was frail, yet insistent.
Heather frowned as her eyes landed on the elderly woman standing amidst the gravestones. Frail, disoriented, and clearly distressed, the woman's head swiveled side to side, searching for something, or someone. Heather's heart twisted. The sight tugged at a part of her she didn't think still existed. The part that couldn't walk away from someone in need.
She started forward, her voice soft but clear. "Are you okay?"
The woman turned quickly, her watery eyes locking onto Heather with a look of relief. "Oh, thank goodness! I don't know where I am," she said, her voice trembling. "I was looking for my daughter-in-law and got lost. Can you help me?"
Heather froze. "Grandma Ellie?" she asked cautiously. "What are you doing here?"
Ellie's expression didn't change. She tilted her head, squinting. "Do I know you, dear?" she asked. Her tone wasn't accusatory, bust genuinely unsure.
Heather's heart sank. She'd dreamed of this moment for years, running through a thousand possibilities in her mind, but this was nowhere in those dreams. Ellie didn't even remember her. Even so, Heather felt that familiar warmth Ellie always carried, the comfort that radiated from her like a second skin. Ellie smiled again, extending her hand toward Heather.
"Thank you for coming to my rescue," Ellie said, her voice softened. "I'm looking for my daughter-in-law. I was supposed to visit her, but my grandson wouldn't let me. So I decided I'd go find her myself."
She paused, looking at Heather with renewed curiosity. "Do I know you, dear?"
Heather's lips trembled as she forced a smile. "No."
Heather held onto Ellie's hand as they left the cemetery, leading her slowly toward the street. Ellie wouldn't stop talking about her history. Heather stayed quiet, allowing her mind to wander. Ellie didn't know her. Ellie didn't realize that Heather had been married to her grandson, that Heather was the mother of Ellie's great-grandchild. The Ellie she knew would've insisted on visiting Alex immediately. She'd even cried in the hospital with Heather after her miscarriage, her arms wrapped around Heather as they wept for hours together.
Yet here they were, strangers.
"You remind me of someone," Ellie said suddenly, breaking Heather's train of thought.
Heather turned slightly. "Oh?"
"My daughter-in-law," Ellie said wistfully, her eyes brightening. "Her name is Heather. She's beautiful, absolutely stunning. And kind. You remind me so much of her."
Heather's throat felt tight as she fought the urge to cry. "Tell me more," her voice barely above a whisper.
Ellie smiled warmly, and without hesitation, she led Heather to a nearby gift shop. The small store smelled of candles and fresh flowers, its shelves lined with thoughtful trinkets. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and Heather couldn't help but feel the heavy irony of walking into a shop where people bought gifts for funerals or for grieving families.
"She always loved thoughtful gifts," Ellie mused as she wandered through the aisles. She picked up a figurine of a dancer, holding it up to Heather. "What do you think? She loved anything with meaning behind it."
Heather struggled to speak. "I think it's lovely," she said softly.
Ellie smiled again, placing the figurine back before picking up a delicate music box engraved with roses. "What about this?" she asked, her voice quiet. "She loved music."
Heather swallowed the lump in her throat. "It's perfect. She'll love it."
Ellie placed the music box into her basket, patting Heather's arm gently. "You're wonderful, you know that? Heather would have liked you. You remind me of her."
Heather let out a shaky laugh, blinking back tears. "Thank you."
They moved to the counter, but Ellie wasn't done. She leaned against a shelf, her smile brightening again. "I have a grandson named Caius," she said. "He married Heather. Poor boy doesn't deserve her, though," she chuckled. "He's stubborn, just like his father, but I love him anyway."
"He sounds… complicated," Heather offered carefully, unsure of where Ellie's memory would take her next.
Ellie laughed. "Oh, you don't know the half of it! He's a handful, but charming when he wants to be." She paused, giving Heather a curious look. "What's your name, dear?"
Heather hesitated for a split second. The name "Heather" caught in her throat. She couldn't say it. "Miss H," she said finally.
Ellie's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Miss H?" She smiled again, her gaze kind but teasing.
Heather chuckled lightly, "Yes."
"Miss H suits you," Ellie said. "It's elegant. Just like my Heather."
As they stepped out of the shop, Heather's phone rang. She glanced at the screen, it was her agency. She stepped to the corner to take the call. Ellie stood on the sidewalk, the music box nestled in her arms as she looked around.