by M. S. Parker
“Thank you,” I heard myself saying. “I appreciate the call.”
I was pretty sure she said something else, but I didn’t hear it. I hung up and set the phone down.
I wasn’t pregnant. I’d known that would be the most likely result, but hearing it officially was still different.
Conflicting emotions warred inside me. On the one hand, I was relieved that I wouldn’t be going through the mourning process while pregnant, my hormones playing havoc on my already worn nerves. There would be no bouts of crying over the father the child would never know. No wondering how to tell him or her about Allen. No dealing with fallout from the Lockwoods who would surely either regard the child as a ploy to keep Allen’s money or as yet another prize of which they wanted to take control. I wouldn’t have put it past them to try to sue for custody. I wouldn’t have eighteen years of raising a child on my own. A lifetime of being a single mother and all that entailed.
But, still, there was sadness too. Allen had wanted a family, wanted a child. Now, he’d never have one. Allen’s branch of the family tree had ended. I’d never hold a baby and wonder at the blend between Allen and I, never see him in our son or daughter’s face. Never give an exasperated sigh and tell my child that he or she was ‘just like their father.' I would have no piece of him to hold onto. He was truly gone. Forever.
I managed to make it to the big armchair Allen had loved so much and I curled up in it, letting the tears come. I cried for the future that was now definitely beyond my reach, and I cried because a part of me was relieved that I wouldn’t have to face that future alone. When I finally cried myself out, I got up, washed my face, and returned to what I’d been doing.
Progress, I supposed, but it felt a lot like moving on. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that, but it seemed like it was happening, whether I wanted it to or not.
A rough couple days followed, but I managed to get through. I finished out the living room and library, then turned my attention to the garage. I had decided to keep the cars and he only had a few tools in here for maintenance. The tools in the vineyard equipment shed were for those machines and they weren’t ones that Allen had used. We had specialized people for that. Or, at least, Jacques knew what he was doing.
I’d texted Jacques, asking him to come over after work so that he could go through some of Allen’s things before I took them to the mission, but before he arrived, Henley called.
“You have an update for me?” I asked after greetings were exchanged.
“I do.”
His tone said it wasn’t anything good.
“I just received notice from the Lockwood’s lawyer that they’re going to attempt to have your marriage to Allen declared invalid.”
The air went out of my lungs and I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. My marriage invalid? I knew the Lockwoods were some obscure sect of a Judeo-Christian religion, the kind who held to some seriously archaic beliefs – hence the reason I’d had a judge stop the autopsy that would’ve violated those beliefs. Allen hadn’t been devout, but I’d known his wishes in that regard.
“How?” It was the only word I managed to get out as I clung to the back of the armchair for support.
“They’re using their religion to state that the marriage contract was never properly followed, that since your ceremony wasn’t committed with their vows and sacraments, that it wasn’t legitimate.”
“That was Allen’s choice,” I said.
“They don’t care,” he said simply. “They’re using religion to stall things. I doubt any judge is going to listen, but I get the feeling they’re the kind of people who aren’t above playing dirty.”
“They aren’t,” I agreed.
“They’re also attempting to say that the will is a forgery.”
I swore, not bothering to keep quiet.
“That was my reaction.” His voice was wry. “But that’s a claim easily disproved,” he continued. “I have a good reputation and most judges will take my word. I also have other documents with Allen’s signature that any handwriting expert will attest matches.”
“So I don’t have to worry?”
“Be smart,” he said. “But don’t worry. Let me do my job.”
I nodded and thanked him. Even as I reminded myself that he’d said not to worry, I couldn’t help but do just that. The forgery part didn’t bother me as much as the Lockwoods trying to say that my marriage to Allen hadn’t existed. It was as if they were trying to strip me of those years with him, to say that none of it mattered.
I went over to the couch and sat down. It shouldn’t have surprised me, I supposed, knowing the lengths they were willing to go to, but I supposed a secret part of me had been hoping that they’d simply been driven by grief, wanting to have something that had been Allen’s. Now I saw that they were just as cold and cruel as I’d always thought.
A knock on the door kept me from spiraling into the darkness that Allen’s family brought with them. I stood and walked over to the door. For a brief moment, I thought it might be someone coming to serve me with legal papers, but as I opened it, I remembered that I’d asked Jasper to come over.
He took one look at my face and frowned. “What did Allen’s family do now?”
I motioned for him to come in. He followed me into the living room, but didn’t even look at the things I’d set out. I returned to my seat on the couch. I was just so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of the accusations. I didn’t want to forget Allen, but I wanted to move on, from this at least. I wanted the chance to be normal again, even if I couldn’t be happy. I wanted to be able to wake up and not dread what the day was going to bring.
“Shae, you can talk to me.” Jasper sat next to me. “What’s going on?”
I gestured towards the boxes on the table. “Did you want any of Allen’s things?”
He glanced at them and I saw his expression tighten.
“I haven’t gone through any of the stuff upstairs,” I said as I looked down at my hands. “But I thought you might want some of his books or tools.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re more his family than any of them,” I said. I heard the edge of bitterness in my words but didn’t apologize for it. I knew he’d understand. If anyone could, it’d be him.
He put his hand over mine and I looked up. “What did they do?” His voice was quiet, but there was an edge of something unpleasant that wasn’t directed at me.
“I’m so tired of fighting them, Jasper.” I clung to his hand, grateful for the strength I could feel him giving me. “They’re not just contesting me inheriting his trust.” I didn’t tell him about the portion earmarked for him. I didn’t want to get his hopes up for something that he might never get. “And not only the vineyard either.”
“But your name’s on the deed,” he said, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “And I know Allen wanted everything to go to you.”
“They’re trying to say that the will’s a forgery.”
“Bullshit.” His fingers tightened around my hand. “And I know Savill Henley. He’s not going to let that stand.”
I shook my head. “He said that one’s easy enough to disprove.”
Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not all, is it?”
I shook my head again and looked down, my eyes burning with tears. I didn’t want to cry again. I felt like all I’d been doing lately was crying. Granted, I had a decent reason for it, but that didn’t mean I wanted to keep doing it. I hated feeling weak and crying made me feel that way.
“You can tell me.”
I took a slow breath, hoping to keep myself calm enough to say it. “They’re trying to have ’our marriage declared invalid.”
“Fuck,” he uttered the oath in a low voice. “How the hell are they trying to do that?”
I looked up at him and saw that his eyes had darkened to the kind of gray that reminded me of a thundercloud, the kind that threatened destruction.
“I was there,” he said. “I saw you both sign the marriage certificate. Hell, I’m one of the witnesses.”
I nodded. “They’re saying that it’s invalid within their religion and that should count for something.”
Jasper’s fingers twitched around my hand and I could feel the barely restrained anger coursing through him. He’d always kept such a tight rein on his emotions that his intensity was almost frightening. If I hadn’t known that he’d never hurt me, I might’ve even been scared.
“They’re not going to get away with this,” he promised. “I’ll go talk to Savill and let him know that I’ll sign whatever he needs me to sign, or testify or whatever.”
My shoulders slumped. “I appreciate it, Jasper, but I don’t know if I can go through with all of this legal stuff. I don’t have the strength to fight them anymore. Most days, it’s all I can do to get up and go through a normal day. I don’t even care about the money. I have a job and I know that I can at least get them to agree to let me have some of my savings since Jasper and I’ve had a joint account since we got engaged.”
“Allen wouldn’t want his family to have the money,” Jasper said. “But if it means they’ll leave you alone, I could see giving that up. But what about the vineyard? This is your home, Shae.”
“I know.” A few tears escaped and I brushed at them with my free hand. “But I’m not sure if I can stay here anyway. There are so many memories here. A part of me wants to just give it to the Lockwoods and move far away from here. Not back to Utah. There’s nothing for me there either, but maybe the other side of the country. As far from here as possible.”
“Shae,” Jasper began.
“I’ll see something that triggers a memory and I turn into a puddle of mush.” I swallowed hard and then confessed what I was truly afraid of. “But then, at least then I know I’m remembering him. What scares me is the day that I don’t see Allen everywhere. Or if I do and it doesn’t hurt.”
“He wouldn’t want you living in pain, Shae.” Jasper let go of my hand and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him.
I let my head rest against his shoulder. He wasn’t my brother and he wasn’t Allen, but he was familiar.
“I don’t want to be in pain,” I said, not bothering to wipe away the new tears. “But I don’t want to forget him either.”
“You won’t,” Jasper said. “Just because memories of him become something you can smile about doesn’t mean you’re dishonoring his memory. It just means that you can finally enjoy remembering all of those times without it hurting.”
He was right, I knew. I didn’t have any memories of my father, so thoughts of him had always been more wistful, even during times I wished he was there. But my memories of my mother had already started to become joyful rather than sad.
“I’m just so tired, Jasper,” I said, leaning harder against him. His arms wrapped around me. “I don’t have it in me.”
“Do you know why Allen kept the vineyard even though it was hours from UCLA and it killed him to be away from you for that long?”
I shook my head.
“He did it for you.”
I frowned even though Jasper couldn’t see my face.
“He never wanted to be a part of his family’s oil business because that wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted for his own family.” Jasper’s hand moved in a soothing up and down motion on my arm. “With the vineyard, he saw a chance for a new start, a legacy he could make with you, for your children. If you decide to sell the vineyard, I’ll support you in whatever way you need me, but don’t give it up to his parents. Take some time to make sure you’re thinking clearly.”
I heard what he’d said, but his mention of children twisted something deep inside me, and by the time he’d finished speaking, I hadn’t been able to hold back. I pressed my face against his chest and began to sob.
“Shh,” he whispered as he smoothed down my hair. “I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”
I shook my head, trying to tell him without words that I wasn’t crying because I was lonely. I was glad he was here, but that wasn’t the reason behind my tears. Finally, I managed to get enough of a grip that I could get the story out. How Allen and I had been planning on starting a family. How I’d spent the entire time since the accident thinking that I could be pregnant and not knowing how I felt about it. How, after the doctor’s call, after knowing I wasn’t, I knew that Allen was lost to me forever.
“Oh, Shae.” Jasper pulled me tightly to him. “I’m so sorry.” His voice broke and I knew he was crying too. Crying for his friend and what might have been.
As my tears began to subside, I started to feel a bit better. Not great, but like some of the weight I’d had on my shoulders was letting up. I wasn’t alone in my loss and Jasper would be there to give me his strength, to help me stand up to my in-laws.
I didn’t pull out of the embrace, but I tilted my head up so that I could look at Jasper to thank him.
The words were on my lips as he looked down at me, something unreadable in his eyes. For a moment, the world froze, and then he was bending his head towards me, his mouth covering mine. The hands around me tightened briefly as his lips pressed against mine.
And then I was pushing against his chest and he let me go. He practically jumped to his feet, his face flaming as he raked his hand through his hair. He stared down at me, eyes wide, and then fled without a word, leaving me with the heat of his mouth lingering on my lips.
Chapter 17
I had to admit, a few minutes after Jasper kissed me, I wasn’t thinking about my stupid in-laws and their games. For the first time since Allen had died, my mind was completely blank. And then it shifted from blank into “What the hell just happened?”
Jasper had kissed me. Jasper Whitehall, Allen’s best friend, best man at our wedding, had just kissed me.
Not a peck on the cheek or even a brush of lips. That had been a real kiss. No tongue, but a real kiss nonetheless.
Holy fuck.
The shock of it stayed with me, and no matter how much I wanted to forget it, so did the feel of his mouth on mine.
And the look of raw emotion in his eyes the moment before he’d run.
A call from Principal Sanders finally gave me something else to think about. I’d gotten a sympathy card from him and he’d come to the funeral, but he hadn’t said a word about work. Now that it was the beginning of August, I’d been waiting for the call, the one asking whether or not I’d be coming back to school. I’d appreciated the reprieve before, especially since I hadn’t been up to making a decision. I hadn’t really thought about it since then, but when Sanders called, I realized that I actually had an answer for him.
“Whatever you need, Shae,” he said. “If you need a year, I’ll hire a substitute. If you want to ease back into it, I can use you as a sub for the elementary.”
“No.” I shook my head even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “I want to come back. Full-time. Back to my classroom and the kids.”
“Are you sure?” He didn’t sound condescending, but rather like he wanted to make certain that I understood what I was getting into.
“I am,” I said. “Getting back to a normal routine is the best thing for me and not working hasn’t helped with that. It’ll be good for me to get lesson plans together, start thinking about my classroom and things like that.”
“All right,” he said. “I’m glad to hear it. You’re a great teacher, Shae.” His voice softened. “And if you ever need a break, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” I said. I didn’t add that I’d had enough of a break from school to last me a while. I didn’t need any more free time on my hands. Free time just meant more time to think and I really didn’t want that, especially now that I had something new and just as disturbing for me to obsess about.
To my surprise, and blissful gratitude, the preparation work actually did help. I was able to dodge the calls that Jasper started making the day after the kiss and ignore t
he texts he sent. I worked from the school rather than home, thankful they’d gotten the air conditioner working before school was back in session. Even if Jasper had thought to look for me there, he wouldn’t have done it. He respected my job too much.
For a while, I’d been afraid I’d come home one day and he’d just be there, but he apparently wanted to make sure it was okay before we saw each other, and as September grew closer, my worry about him faded. The memory of his kiss did too and I began to hope that, eventually, I’d be able to answer his call and the two of us would go back to being friends without any awkwardness. I missed him, even with the awkwardness.
As for the Lockwoods...well, that wasn’t going nearly as well. I was quickly finding out that the biggest problem with rich people filing lawsuits was that they could afford to pay their lawyers to use every trick in the book. Fortunately, coming up with the bullshit tricks seemed to take longer than it did for Henley to figure out counter measures since their claims were so completely ridiculous.
They were still trying for the religious route to say our marriage hadn’t been real, but Henley assured me that would require them to prove that Allen had been a practicing member of whatever their religion was. I knew a bit about it, but only the parts that Allen had kept as he’d become an adult was that he hadn’t wanted an autopsy or cremation. There was a possibility that the lawyers might request a search of the house for religious icons or whatever, but I wasn’t worried about that. We’d never attended any kind of meeting or had any sort of religious artifacts in the house. I thought I might’ve kept my family Bible, but I wasn’t entirely sure I even knew where it was.
The forgery issue had already been taken care of with the presentation of several notarized legal documents that proved the signature on the will was valid. Henley had even gotten a few documents of Allen's that weren’t connected to the lawyer so they couldn’t claim he’d been the one to forge everything.
Partway through August, they tried another tactic and claimed that I couldn’t inherit Allen’s trust since it was to be held for any children of his. Henley was arguing that since Allen was gone and I wasn’t pregnant, the child clause was null and void, and while it killed me that he was right, I knew it was the best thing to say. I’d even told him that they could look at my medical records to see that I’d never been pregnant. The Lockwoods, however, were filing a motion that required proof that Allen hadn’t contributed to a sperm bank at some point in his life, or that he’d fathered a child with someone other than me. An illegitimate child, once paternity was proven, would stand to inherit the trust and whatever else Allen had set aside in his will for possible children. Henley told me that he was to blame for not having insisted that Allen clarify in the will that the children be mine.
