by C.M. Lanning
Tina Softon brought out her makeup and we prettied you up while you slept? Then, you had to wear it the rest of the day because you had to stay with me, and I didn't want to go into the boy's bathroom so you could wash it off!”
Her giggling had turned into full-blown laughter now to the point that her eyes were watering, and some of the others in the parking lot were looking at her.
“There's the Claire I know. Now do you really want to go in there, or do you want to go shopping? Come on, I'll even go into that one store I hate going into,” Barry said.
“No, we can shop any day, but there are instructions in that will I need to follow,” Claire said.
“Why? Why do you have to get his money today? I mean, you still have plenty that he left you. I assume there was more to the will than money, but that was the main part, right?”
“You're right, Barry. The main topic of the will was money. . . and estate. . . and worldly possessions of my father. However, I'm not here to take any of it,” Claire said.
“You had Spencer make another copy of the will, right? One that wasn't in braille?”
“Yes. It's for the bank. I read him word for word what was in the original will. I have both copies with me in my purse,” she said.
“Can I read the regular one since you wanted me to read it to you in the first place?”
“You're better off not reading it right now. Just trust me on that, Barry. Daddy wanted me to wait five years before reading the will, but if it had been intended for you, he'd have wanted you to wait twice that long,” Claire said, somehow avoiding his stare.
Sighing, Barry took her hand and said, “Okay, let's do this.”
“Thank you, Barry,” Claire said.
They walked inside. Claire's heels clicked on the marble floor as they walked up to one of the tellers.
“My name is Claire Seles, and I'm here following instructions from my father's will,” she said.
“Right Ms. Seles, your lawyer called and informed us that you'd be coming. We prepared the necessary paperwork. Now, if I could just see some identification and your father's will,” the lady behind the counter said.
Barry didn't like the feeling of this place. It was just too big and open for his tastes. . . not that he liked close and tight spaces, but the building just didn't strike him the right way.
He read the lady's name tag. Her name was Karen.
Karen took the wills and Claire's ID. She examined them, then handed Claire the paperwork. When Claire didn't take the papers, she looked puzzled.
Barry reached over and took the papers. Then, he set them down on the counter in front of Claire. He gave Claire a pen and put her hand where she had to sign.
Karen didn't understand until it finally dawned on her that Claire was blind.
She looked embarrassed for not noticing that, but since she didn't think Claire had noticed, she definitely wasn't going to apologize and risk looking like a fool.
When Claire had signed the papers, Karen took them and the wills and the ID.
“I'll have to have the president examine these and approve the changes. I'll run these back to him.
“That's fine,” Claire said.
Karen took a few minutes to get that approval, but when she came back, she returned the wills and Claire's ID.
“The changes to your father's account have been made as specified in your will. I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Seles,” Karen said.
Her tone wasn't really sincere; Barry could tell she was just saying it for the sake of customer relations in hopes that Claire didn't move the money to a different bank.
“Thanks for your kind words and your help today,” Claire said.
She took the wills and put them in her purse along with her I.D.
“If you need anything else, just come back and see us,” Karen said.
“We will,” Claire said.
“Where to now?”
“Let's just go home; I'm tired,” Claire said.
“No shopping?”
“I'm just beat. This will and paperwork have just. . . they’ve drained me. Please just take me home,” Claire said.
“Right away. Let's get out of here,” Barry said, grabbing her hand.
Before they could take two steps away from the counter, they saw two men in dark clothing and black masks run into the lobby. One had an uzi and shouted, “Everybody on the ground!”
Claire screamed, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion from there.
The man with the gun started firing. He wasn't aiming at anything in particular; it was just a general spray of bullets to get everyone's attention. In the movies, bank robbers usually hold their guns into the air and fire. These robbers didn't do that. They were firing at the people.
Barry threw his body over Claire and pulled her to the ground, but not before she took a stray bullet. One shot was all it took. It caught her in the forehead.
Closing his eyes and protecting her body as best he could, he heard the screams of the other customers. The robbers ran up to the counter, had the tellers dump all the available money into some bags, then, just as quickly as they had arrived, they left.
They weren't stupid enough to try to get what was in the vault, because by the time they got it open, the cops would have arrived.
So, they took their cash and ran.
When they'd left, Barry whispered, “Claire? Are you hurt?”
He got no response, so he got up and looked down at her. That was when he noticed the bullet hole in her skull. Other customers screamed for help, but he didn't hear them.
Karen yelled something to him, but he didn't hear her either. All he could hear was laughter, the laughter of students when they saw the makeup on his face as he walked with Claire.
“Please let me go to the bathroom and wash this off, it's embarrassing!”
“No, I'm not going in a boy's bathroom!”
“Hey, look at Claire's sister, isn't she pretty!”
“Hey Barry, you've been using the wrong bathroom!”
“Oh my, Claire, she's even prettier than you are!”
“Why don't you come into the girl's bathroom and wash it off?”
“I'm not going into the girl's bathroom to wash it off; I'll get picked on more. How long was I asleep that she was able to put all this crap on me?”
“Well, they had a whole hour to do it, and you know Tina. Her mother owns a salon in town, so she carries plenty of makeup with her. I just wish I could see it,” Claire said, laughing as they walked.
“What am I going to do?”
“I guess you'll just have to wear it all day until you change your mind and you wanna come with me to the girl’s bathroom and wash it off,” Claire said.
“I can't stay looking like this all day, it's only 10 am! Can't I just go into the boy's restroom, myself?”
“Nope, daddy said you're supposed to stay with me at all times,” Claire said, laughing.
She was always putting him in uncomfortable situations just to tease him. He never cared, because she was happy that way.
Barry sat there next to her, and a tear rolled down his cheek and onto Claire's dress. The police arrived and some paramedics too. They came over to Claire and saw what had happened. They put her on a stretcher and covered her with a white sheet, taking her away.
A cop came over to take Barry's statement, but he just shook his head to say, “I can't talk.”
Understanding, the cop left him alone. He was still sitting on the floor when he noticed her purse. In the confusion of him forcing her to the ground, some of the stuff had spilled out of her purse.
Among some of those things was the will from Claire's father.
Slowly, Barry reached over and opened it.
Barry got angry and thought to himself, What could have been so important that we had to take care of this today? If we had just gone home or gone shopping, Claire would still be alive!
He read the will slowly, absorbing every word. When he finished, his ar
ms fell limp at his side.
This time more than one tear fell. He was already on his knees, so he couldn't fall any further, but he desperately wanted to collapse beyond the floor, if that was even possible.
In the will, Claire's father hadn't left her a single penny. Instead, he instructed her to transfer everything into Barry's name, his logic being that Barry would stay by her side for the rest of her life, and he would handle the money better, having come from a family that had none.
Spencer had asked Barry where he thought he'd be without Claire. . . now he had his answer. He'd be empty without her, and all the millions of dollars that he'd just inherited meant nothing without her there to share it.
Barry could forget worrying about crossing the line with the one woman he’d ever love. Now, there was no woman, and there was no line, just millions of dollars he never asked for and an empty mansion for him to be alone in.
