by Clara Reese
“Alright then, if you’re sure.” For a lawyer, she’s certainly not very experienced with giving her clients tough news. “Remember that old, dilapidated chalet Arthur bequeathed to you?”
Here it is, the end of my dream. “I’m standing in it right now. The renovations are almost finished, and in the next few weeks I’ll be opening a women’s shelter.” My voice breaks as I plead with her, “I can’t have any issues arising with the chalet, Megan. I need this to come to fruition.”
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Patterson. That sounds like a noble use of his gift, but unfortunately there’s a codicil to the will that our law firm has just discovered.”
None of her words make sense, and my forehead feels damp as I break out into a cold sweat. “What’s a codicil? What does this mean? Am I losing the chalet?” I can barely even speak the words, and they emerge distorted and muffled from my throat.
Meg sighs, trying to comfort me through the phone. “That’s a possibility, unfortunately. A codicil is like an addendum, something additional in the will that we missed the first time around.”
I feel as if Uncle Arthur has died all over again. It’s been eleven whole months, but the pain resurfaces. Yes, I have a successful career in fashion, but nothing has fulfilled me like building this shelter, and I can’t stand to think of losing it now. What will Gina say when I tell her all of our hard work will go to waste?
“I know it’s difficult news, but let’s take a look really quickly and see if you can meet his stipulations.” I hear hurried typing in the background, and Meg inhales deeply when her fingers leave the keyboard. “Oh no.”
“What is that supposed to mean? What’s going on?” I’ve made my way to the kitchen now, hoping that a bottle of wine from one of our late night construction sessions might be left in the fridge. No such luck. I settle for a bottle of water as I massage my temples. “I’m sure my uncle’s addendum couldn’t be that shocking. He did give me the chalet, after all.”
Clearing her throat, Meg continues, her voice trembling. “There’s a single provision, and you’re not going to be happy about it. It’s rather…specific.”
“Please, just tell me.”
After one more deep breath, Meg changes my world with a single sentence. “Arthur wrote that, in order to keep the family chalet, you—Dawn Patterson—must marry within a year of inheriting it. Dawn, do the math. It’s near impossible.”
I nearly collapse onto the counter. My head is spinning and my pulse is racing. According to my lawyer, I have one month to get married. As a single woman with no relationship prospects, it is going to be impossible.
“We at the Cochrane and Behr Law Firm sincerely apologize for not unearthing this stipulation earlier. Codicils like this one are usually clearly stated in the will, but this one was found amongst a box of your uncle’s old legal files. As far as I have been able to find, it’s completely legal, and unfortunately you will have to surrender the chalet if all conditions are not met in the next month.”
The legal jargon makes my mind swim, and I want nothing more than to hang up so I can brainstorm an easy fix, though it will be difficult. However, I clear my head quickly enough to reason with Meg. “Is there anything we can do?”
“Unless you get married in a month, not much. I’m extremely sorry about this. We’ll keep looking for loopholes, but in the meantime, there’s not much that can be done.”
She’s obviously apologetic, and she’s right that this wasn’t her law firm’s fault. My uncle probably wanted them to find this codicil at the last minute—my family wants nothing more than to push me to marry a well-off businessman, though they are aware I’m attracted to females. Though Uncle Arthur was also gay, this stipulation was probably one last jab beyond the grave at my unwillingness to settle down with anyone. “Thanks, Meg. Please let me know if there are any more updates,” I sigh.
“Absolutely, Ms. Patterson. We will keep working on your case around the clock. Let me know if you have any further questions.” She hangs up, leaving me pacing around the kitchen with a pen between my teeth and a blank paper on the counter.
So far, my brainstorming has produced no results. My dream slips quickly away from me, and I wait for Gina to arrive and offer a simple solution. She always knows how to make me feel at ease, and though this problem is tougher than an old chalet renovation, I’m hoping she’ll be the one to solve it.
4
Gina
I’m still reeling over Ma’s news as I pull up into the drive. I’ve been so worried about Carlo. Don’t get me wrong, I still am, but knowing he is one step closer to that transplant is incredible news. To be honest, part of me thought it would never happen. I’ve been terrified by that.
Gravel spits up against the underside of the car as I pull up into the circular drive. I park my car near Dawn’s and take a deep breath as I get out. It’s beautiful out here. I never fail to appreciate the clear sky and impressive mountain ranges around the chalet.
The place is looking good. I let my eyes trail over the roof and the decorative scrolling around the windows. A lot of it didn’t take much to fix up and the building is beautiful. Considering the peace that sweeps through me every time I’m here, I think this will be an ideal place for a shelter.
Of course, I wish the drive out here wasn’t so long. That’s the trouble with quiet, relaxing places. You damn well need to relax after a drive like that.
I head in through the front door and call out a few hellos. No one answers and I start through the hallway, waiting for a clue that might tell me where Dawn is. Her car was in the drive so I know she must have gotten here before me.
When I finally come into the kitchen, Dawn is there, pacing along the big doors in the back wall that let in natural light. Her bright golden hair flickers under the patterns of sun and shadow as she walks back and forth. She’s wearing tight jeans and her jaunty, sharp steps make her butt work and her shapely legs stretch out on every stride.
Her warm brown eyes are crackling with electricity. Her hands are moving as she paces and, every now and then, she mutters something to herself.
Yeah, I’ve got it bad. She’s incredibly cute. Seeing her at all usually affects me, but seeing her full of fire like this almost takes my breath away.
“Hey, sweetie.” I call out as I come through the door. “What’s the matter?” I’m thinking maybe the plumber called or something. That guy never has good news.
“Gina! Thank God. Get in here. I need someone to talk to.” Despite the invitation, she keeps pacing.
With a little sigh and a grin, I go to the counter and make some tea, grabbing a packet of biscuits. I move everything to the table and gesture for Dawn to sit. She does, but keeps playing with her hands and running her fingers through her hair.
She sighs, sipping her tea.
“Twenty questions?” I ask wryly.
“What? Oh! Sorry, no. It’s about the chalet.”
“What about it?”
She sighs, blowing on the hot tea.
“The family has always been very competitive about it. No one was happy when Uncle Arthur gave it to me. Well, it turns out, he put conditions on it. Me having it, I mean.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Conditions?”
“Yeah. It says I have to be married within twelve months or I lose the chalet. Going off the timeline of the legal documents, I’ve got a month. Possibly less.”
“Holy crap!”
“Yeah, I know, right?”
We both sip our tea and I grab a couple of biscuits, thinking this over.
“There’s more. It gets worse.”
“Shit, no. Lay it on me.”
“Larry’s just waiting there for me to fuck this up. He wants the chalet bad. He’ll make sure this is enforced. I can’t hang around. He’ll just snap it up. I don’t have any time here. This week’s a washout already. Then I only have three weeks! What the hell am I going to do?”
I sip my tea, thinking about my brother and how everyone has probl
ems. It’s amazing to think about how circumstances affect people. Even though I can come off stubborn and silent, I’m always evaluating people. I try not to judge or infringe on their boundaries. You never know what sort of heartache they are carrying around.
“We’ve worked so hard.” Dawn looks around the kitchen at the bright new tiles, polished wood and colorful curtains. The rest of the house is just as beautiful, lovingly restored. The gardens outside are neatly tucked into their stone beds and flourishing.
“He wants to turn it into a country club,” Dawn says darkly.
“Oh no! Won’t that mean a complete remodel?”
She nods. “Most likely, yes. Unless he’s planning on running it super small and exclusive. That makes a lot of sense, but I can’t see my brother doing anything small.”
“How do we know this is all real? Couldn’t he have just done something to screw you over? I don’t see how this law can even be legit.”
“It’s not a law. It has to do with my uncle’s wishes.”
“But he left you the chalet in his will.”
“Yes, and at some point after that, he decided he wanted me to be married if I was going to own it. He filled out the legal documents, but they never went to his lawyer. They found it in his account books while they were packing up some of his official documents. It takes time when there’s lots of money involved.”
“But if he never filed it with his lawyer and the rest of his will, how can it possibly be legal?”
She shakes her head. “That doesn’t matter. The document stands. We can’t know if he intended to file it or not. Who knows what he really wanted? Maybe he got fanciful one day and forgot about it. He was such a joker he probably thought it would be funny. Or he was going to pull it out at my wedding, and we’d all have a good laugh about it. He was like that. He would have thought it was hilarious.”
“What a pity it hung you up so bad.” I look into my teacup and watch the dark swirls.
“The worst thing is, he doesn’t specify what happens to the chalet if I don’t get married. That’s why I’m thinking it was a very poor joke on his part. Surely, if he was serious, he’d leave a clause about who the chalet would end up with and what could be done with it. As it stands, Larry is waiting right there to snap it up. I don’t have a hope in hell, legally.”
“What about all your repairs? You’ve put a significant investment in here. Surely that’s legally recognized.”
“I’ll get reimbursed.” She looks down at the table glumly. “If I can prove I needed to do the repairs for tax purposes. If this was connected to my work. But as a charity, it’s all out of my own pocket, I’m afraid. Scary thing is, if Larry starts making money out of the place, he gets the tax cuts.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I know.”
We sit quietly for a moment, sipping tea. I crunch down a few biscuits. Dawn starts tapping her fingers on the table, staring off into the distance. I wish I could say something helpful, but this stuff is all way over my head. I’m having a hard-enough time dealing with my brother and family. I can’t imagine having so much money to worry about.
The sun shifts through the windows and lights Dawn up again. Her face is almost entirely still as her eyes are fixed in the distance. I know she’s on the verge of a new idea, she’s just chasing it down. No one knows her better than I do and I know that face. She’s definitely scheming something.
Even though I’m full of worries both for myself and her, I let a grin come to my face. I can’t wait to hear what she comes up with.
5
Dawn
I sip the tea slowly, looking off into the distance. My mind is churning, and this is how I feel when I’ve got an awesome creative idea. It’s just ahead of me and I’m chasing it down. I just have to be patient and keep up the pace and I’ll catch it.
My mind starts to spin through all the people I could ask. Of course, thoughts quickly turn to my ex, Tiffany. It’s the only emotional entanglement I’ve had for a really long time. I know marrying her isn’t a possibility but it’s just the first person who comes to mind.
Tiffany would be over the moon at the information. Then she could do nothing all day and spend my money. She could mess up my house and never clean, never cook or even say ‘hey’ when I get home from work.
Even though she had her own money, she still used mine to pay her debts. She was always running up huge bills for one reason or another. I tried to accept it, but it was the principle of the thing more than the money.
I’ll never forget how she turned up at work late one night with food and wine because she knew I was working late on the designs for my new fashion line. I thought she was being sweet and eagerly showed them to her. It’s pathetic how excited I used to get over any small act of kindness she gave me. It helped me to believe.
Then she stole my designs and sold them to my rivals. Just before my new line was due to come out, I saw my designs walking down the catwalk under someone else’s name. I had to trash the line and start from scratch all over again. It put me back months.
Tiffany took her abuse to almost every single level of the relationship.
I could go back to days of silent treatment, passive aggressive comments and vicious gossip. I could go back to her telling me I had to put up with her, because no one else would ever put up with me.
I feel achingly sad for a second and turn my gaze to my teacup. I will not cry. No way. I can feel my eyes stinging but I’m not going to cry. I loved her. I really did. I wanted her to be the best version of herself and I believed in the person I knew she could be. It just didn’t matter how much I gave. She kept taking. She’s still trying to, right now. She never misses a chance to get one over on me.
I’ve just spent way too much time dwelling on Tiffany. I’m not going to go there but just thinking of her sends me down a very twisty and dark rabbit hole.
I drum my fingers on the table, sipping my tea. Gina’s an angel, always looking out for me. All I need to do is think about being hungry or needing a break and she’s there, equipped with sustenance. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
My experiences with Tiffany have made me so shy about getting partnered up this whole thing has got me in a mess. It would be hard enough to find someone to marry even if I wasn’t emotionally crippled.
I think of Patricia and Gabby, but we are too close in a sisterly way. The kiss at the altar would be too weird, we would all just laugh our guts out. They are terrible liars; it would never fly in front of my family. Larry would be calling for an annulment and a court injunction within days.
My mind carefully clicks over my staff members. I know quite a few people in my management group would be suitable for this. But, like Patricia and Gabby, I don’t want to cause a major disruption in their lives. I’m embarrassed to ask them to come and help with this.
My fingers keep drumming and my tea starts to go cold. I have to keep thinking. There must be a solution to this. Even if I wasn’t relationship shy, the chances of me finding and meeting someone who could fit the bill is almost impossible. It would be nice to think the universe could provide me with a love match right when I need it, even though I’d settle for someone who could just play the role.
Maybe I should put an ad on the internet. That would be a great way to wreck my life even worse than this.
My drumming fingers change to tapping and I realize Gina is probably waiting for me to say something.
Wait..Gina!
If we pretend to get married, she can still share all my assets. I can support her to get into Broadway, just like she’s always wanted. She can play my part for me and I can throw my fortune behind her.
We get on well. We’re comfortable with each other. The idea of living with her is not intrusive at all. I think I might like it, actually. She’s always sensitive to my moods and seems to know what I need. I think I could use someone like that in my life, even if it is a good friend and not a lover.
How to approach th
e subject? I turn and grin and her, a bit too suddenly. She raises her eyebrows over her teacup and that just makes me appreciate her more. I’ve spun around like an evil genius thick in the middle of a dastardly plot and she calmly raises an eyebrow. This might be a perfect match.
“Gina. I’ve got a great idea.”
“I knew you’d think of something.” She smiles broadly as she puts her cup down. “You always do. Let’s hear the plan!”
“Well…it involves you.” Now that I’ve come this far, I’m hitting a wall, but my excitement over the idea and urgency over the time restraints push me forward.
Her smile only gets wider. “What do I have to do?”
“Marry me.”
She sits so still and so expressionless for a moment that I wonder if we got frozen in time. I take a look around. The room is still the same, light breeze let in by the side door stirring the curtains. Not frozen in time. I look back at my friend.
“Gina?”
I’m a bit worried now and my mind is running through every single possibility of why she might refuse. I come up with all sorts of crazy shit, like she’s a secret superhero or collects fingernail clippings or something. My wild ride of thoughts can only settle in one obvious place.
She’s in love with someone. From the shocked look on her face, it’s probably very serious. I wonder if her lover might agree…There would be benefits for all of us.
I can run around this as many times as I like but I know damn well, if she has a serious partner, she’s not going to screw it up by fake marrying me. It was inconsiderate of me to just assume she’s single.
“I only meant pretend marriage.” I try to bring my voice down, so I don’t come off confrontational. “Like, a little ceremony or something. We can’t just sign the papers because no one would believe it. There would have to be a party. I could keep the chalet. I’d support you to get into Broadway, anything you want. Just name it. Acting classes, photos for your portfolio, anything.”
