Starting Over

by Cheryl Douglas

  “I don’t think I will,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not that I’ve fallen out of love with you. I haven’t. It’s just that your life is there, and I think mine is here. I feel at home here, at peace. I know you may not be able to understand that, and I don’t know how else to explain it except to say my home isn’t with you anymore.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry if that sounds harsh. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to find a way to be happy again, Alex.”

  If he thought he was the only thing standing between her and happiness, he would let her go, but he believed he could make her happy again. “I still want to come back in a couple of weeks. Tell me you’re okay with that.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to change anything.”

  “Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. Only time will tell.” He knew during the next two weeks, he would be praying for a miracle harder than he had ever prayed for anything.

  Chapter Four

  Eve couldn’t quash her apprehension as she sat in her aunt’s study waiting for Sharon’s long-time friend and attorney, Morris Richards. He’d called that morning to offer his condolences and explain that he’d been out of town visiting family and just learned of Sharon’s passing. He asked to meet with Eve as soon as possible because Sharon had given him strict instructions to carry out to the letter.

  Eve smiled as she imagined her aunt giving that directive to the crotchety old lawyer. Sharon was sweet and compassionate, but she brooked no argument when she’d made up her mind about something. Eve was certain Morris saw that side of his friend when he advised her against taking an action she’d already decided upon. Sharon lived life according to her rules without giving a rip what anyone thought about her, and Eve admired her even more as she struggled to find her own identity again.

  A soft knock on the door had Eve sitting up straighter in the striped wingback by the stone fireplace. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, cleared her throat, and called out, “Come in.”

  Morris poked his head in the door, his shock of white hair as unruly as ever. The attorney always looked like an unmade bed with his dated, rumpled suits and his silver-framed glasses sliding down his bulbous nose, but Sharon insisted he was as sharp as they came. More importantly, she trusted him implicitly. “Myra let me in.” He gripped his scarred black briefcase tightly.

  Eve noticed he was carrying a corrugated tube in his free hand. Before she could imagine what it contained, she decided to face her fears. “What do you have there?”

  “We’ll get to that,” he said, setting the briefcase and tube on the antique table where Sharon often enjoyed her afternoon tea. He held out his hands to Eve and she stood, accepting them with a forced smile. “I’m so sorry for your loss, dear. Your aunt was one of the best women I’ve ever known, and I know you meant the world to her. Having you here during the last days of her life was a great comfort to her. I hope you know that.”

  On the verge of tears, Eve simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Well then, I guess we should get down to business.” He gestured toward the desk Sharon had purchased in Rome. She’d had it shipped, insisting she would have fantasized about it for the rest of her days if she hadn’t bought it. “Have a seat.”

  Eve looked at the chocolate brown swivel chair. Gold studs lined the edges of the leather and intricately carved arms and legs. Both pieces were antiques, works of art according to her aunt. Sharon had loved antique furniture. She said she liked to imagine all of the hours spent by men who took great pride in their workmanship, treating each piece as a legacy that would be around long after they were gone. Eve had never known anyone else to occupy Sharon’s sacred spot.

  “I’d rather sit here,” she said, gesturing to one of the guest chairs on the opposite side of the desk. She sat and gave him a tight smile, hoping he would let the subject go.

  With a sad smile, Morris said, “I know it’s hard for you. Sharon’s spirit will always be in this house. I can feel it now, all around us.”

  “So can I,” Eve whispered. Her aunt had lovingly restored the inn, bringing it back from years of neglect, and her stamp was on every square foot of space. Every stick of furniture and stone pathway reminded her of Sharon’s passion for life.

  “That’s a good thing,” Morris said, patting her hand as he claimed the seat next to her. “It may not seem like it now while you’re still grieving, but in time, it will be a comfort to you.”

  Eve couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t grieve the loss of her aunt, but she didn’t see the need to share that with Morris. He was there to conduct business, and she would just as soon get on with it. She needed a few moments to collect herself before having to face her husband again. Alex was always at the forefront of her mind, just as Sharon was. “I’m sure it will. You said we had some important things to discuss…”

  “Yes.” He moved his briefcase to the desk before popping the old-fashioned brass locks. “Your aunt spent a great deal of time on estate planning in the last few months. She had very strong opinions about how she wanted things dispersed.” Withdrawing a manila folder, he leaned back in his chair, regarding Eve carefully. “As you know, your aunt’s work made her a very wealthy woman.”

  Sharon had lived modestly, maintaining the inn meticulously and donating much of her time and money to the local causes she loved. They rarely spoke about money, but Eve knew Sharon’s multi-million dollar contracts would have allowed her to live a lavish lifestyle if she chose it. According to a recent article Eve read, Sharon’s estimated net worth was approaching a hundred million dollars. When the reporter asked her to confirm or refute the claim, Sharon politely declined, telling him it was private. Eve said, “Yes, I know.”

  “Her causes were near and dear to her heart, and she wanted to continue to support them, post-mortem.”

  Eve swallowed, trying to digest the distasteful word. “I understand.”

  “It wasn’t enough for her to simply leave them a chunk of money to do whatever they wanted with though. You know Sharon, she liked to control things,” he said, smiling.

  “Yes, she did.” Sharon was a perfectionist who believed if she wanted a job done right, she had to do it herself.

  “That’s why she set up a charitable foundation in her name.” Morris handed Eve one of the documents. “She would like you to serve as the director. Of course, you’re free to hire whomever you would like to help you, but Sharon was quite specific about her five-year plan for the organization. Beyond that, she’s entrusting you to carry on as you see fit.”

  Eve flipped through the pages, trying to process what that would mean. The organization was a huge undertaking, one she wasn’t sure she was up to. “What if I can’t do it? I mean, I have experience with charity work, but nothing like this.”

  “Your aunt had faith in you, Eve. You need to learn to believe in yourself as much as she believed in you.” He handed her an envelope with her name on the outside.

  She immediately recognized her aunt’s bold handwriting. “What’s this?”

  “A letter from Sharon. There’s also a memory card. She recorded a video message she wanted you to view once we’d had a chance to review her estate plan.”

  She could barely contain her excitement when she thought about seeing her aunt’s face and hearing her voice again. “I’ll watch it as soon as I can.” She smoothed the envelope in her lap. Eve would fire up the computer as soon as Morris left to watch her aunt’s video message.

  “Good, see that you do.” Morris extracted another folder from his briefcase, took a stapled stack of papers from it, and handed them to Eve. “This outlines your aunt’s plans for the inn. You, of course, were her sole heir since she hadn’t spoken to your mother in years.”

  Sharon wasn’t the only one who hadn’t spoken to her mother in years. Jane Nesbitt seemed to have simply stepped off the face of the earth when her sister agreed to take over raising her daughter. Jane had had a few brief conversations with Eve and Sha
ron over the years, but they always ended in arguments that left them all the worse for wear. Sharon eventually told Jane she wasn’t welcome in their lives until she decided to take responsibility for her actions.

  Eve flipped through the stack of paper and frowned when she came across architectural drawings outlining expansion plans for the inn. She knew her aunt had been thinking about making some changes to the inn before she got sick, but she didn’t realize how far along Sharon was in the planning process. “The renovation…”

  “Is your responsibility now,” Morris said, chuckling. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the corrugated tube. “Those are all the plans. She included a list of contractors and sub-contractors she’d lined up, and she was very specific about what she wanted, so you shouldn’t have any problems executing her plans.”

  Eve felt a little overwhelmed. Her aunt had made her the director of a charitable organization and an innkeeper responsible for a major expansion. If she had any concerns about what she would do with her life now that her marriage was over, Sharon had ensured she would be busy. She stared at the papers until the words blurred through her tears. “I can’t believe this. I don’t know if I can do all this, Morris.”

  “You have no idea what you’re capable of until you challenge yourself, my dear. Sharon knew that, and she wanted to teach you that lesson the hard way.” Smiling, he said, “You know your aunt. She thought taking the easy way out was for slackers.”

  Eve smiled and rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I guess you’re right.” Sitting up straighter, she took a deep breath. “Okay, anything else I need to know?”

  He handed Eve another folder. “This outlines your aunt’s remaining assets, after the disbursements to the organization.”

  Her mouth fell open when she looked at the bottom line on the last sheet of paper. If that reporter had done his homework, he would have realized her aunt was worth much more than he suspected. “Wow, I had no idea.”

  Morris laughed. “I’m not sure Sharon had any idea how big that number was until we started her estate planning. Money was only important to her because it allowed her to give back to the community she loved. She had a great life, Eve. Wonderful friends, a job she was passionate about, a community who revered her, a niece she adored… Not many people can say that. Don’t feel sad Sharon’s life was cut short. Just be proud of the life she lived.”

  “I am proud,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she set the documents on the desk. “I’m so proud to have been a part of her life.”

  “There is a stipulation we need to discuss,” Morris said, looking uncomfortable. “That money is yours and yours alone. Your current or future husband will have no claim whatsoever to a dollar of that money. If they contend otherwise, we’ll fight them as hard as we have to. That’s the way Sharon wanted it, and I promised her I would honor her wishes.”

  Eve gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Morris, my husband is a wealthy man. There’s no way he would want a dime of my aunt’s money. As for the future, I can’t imagine I’ll ever want to get married again.” Just the thought of going through that heartbreak again was more than Eve could handle.

  “You say that now, but you’re still young. None of us know what the future might hold.” He hesitated. “Does that mean you’re ready to end your marriage?”

  Eve didn’t want to cry again. She’d just acknowledged the truth to herself and her husband. She wasn’t sure she was ready to share it with anyone else yet, but she knew Morris was the person she would ask to act on her behalf. “Yes, I am. I’d like you to get started on proceedings soon…”

  He handed her another stack of papers. “Your aunt suspected you may be ready to take that step, so she asked me to help you when the time came. I took the liberty of preparing this document, based on your aunt’s stipulations regarding your inheritance. Of course, you won’t need to split the assets you shared with Alex, unless of course you want to. That’s clearly stated in the divorce petition. It should certainly help speed up the process. As long as you both consent and there aren’t any complications I’m not aware of, I don’t perceive any delays.”

  Eve stared at the big bold letters at the top of the page: Petition for Divorce. “I… uh…” She’d told Alex their marriage was over, but Morris was proposing she take the next step and she was getting cold feet.

  “We don’t have to file until you’re ready. Take all the time you need to think about it.” He stood up, closing his briefcase. “I’m sure you’ll have some questions for me once you’ve had a chance to review everything. I wanted to wait to deal with this until after the service, but Sharon was adamant that she wanted you to understand where things stood as soon as possible.”

  Eve stood to walk Morris out. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure I’ll be in touch soon.”

  He gave her a hug. “Hazel and I will be at the service. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

  “Thanks, Morris. I will.”

  “I can show myself out.” He gestured at the sealed envelope on the desk. “Given everything I’ve just laid on you, I’m sure you’re anxious to learn what your aunt was thinking when she set this whole thing in motion.”

  “I am.”

  “Don’t let me keep you.”

  Eve closed the door with a heavy sigh and leaned her back against the solid wood as she stared at the documents littering the desktop. Her aunt’s decisions had changed her life, and she couldn’t decide how she felt. A part of her was honored that her aunt felt Eve was capable of filling her shoes, but another part of her was a little resentful she didn’t get to choose her future for herself.

  She took tentative steps toward the desk, anxious to hear what her aunt wanted to say and afraid she may be overcome with emotion listening to Sharon’s last words. She didn’t know when the video had been recorded. She hoped her vital and vibrant aunt appeared on the screen instead of the weak, frail shadow of herself that the cancer had reduced her to.

  Inhaling deeply, she looked at the vacant chair. If her aunt wanted Eve to take over the business and carry on with her plans in her memory, Eve decided she would have to get comfortable with the role. There seemed no better place to start than Sharon’s favorite chair. She settled in and closed her eyes, picturing her aunt hammering away at her keyboard. Her soft gray ponytail would be in disarray, her silver-framed glasses perched on her nose, as she went from scowling to smiling and back again. All in a day’s work, she used to say, claiming her characters always knew how to put her through the emotional wringer.

  When she opened her eyes, Eve spotted her wedding photo to the left of Sharon’s computer monitor. She and Alex had been so happy, so in love, and unable to imagine life tearing them apart. But without question, that’s what had happened. Alex had gotten caught up in running his family’s company, leaving Eve alone to find her own place in his world. Except she never did. She filled her days with freelance editing work that she found satisfying for a while, volunteered when she was asked, but something was always missing. She’d thought it was a baby, but she realized it was more than that. She missed the person she used to be.

  Setting the photo back on the desk, she forced herself to face reality. Even if Sharon hadn’t asked her to stay on at the inn, Eve wouldn’t have returned to New York. As much as she loved Alex, her life with him was empty, and she couldn’t go on that way. She deserved the rich, full life she’d always dreamed about. Maybe running her aunt’s inn would be her second chance.

  Turning on the computer, she inserted the memory stick and waited. She held her breath as she followed the prompts and waited for Sharon’s image to fill the small screen. When it did, Eve finally exhaled. Sharon looked beautiful in a green, blue, and lavender blouse. Her sleek silver bob was tamed into submission, and she was even wearing pale pink lip gloss. She’d gone to a lot of effort to look her best. She must have known that’s how her niece would want to remember her.

  “Hey, sunshine.” She smiled, h
er face lighting up the darkness surrounding Eve. “If you’re watching this, that means I’m gone. But I’m not really. I hope you know that. I’m there with you, honey. I always will be.”

  Eve reached for a tissue from the box on the corner of the desk. Balling it up, she promised herself she would get through the tape without crying.

  “I know you’ve had a talk with Morris by now, so he’s told you about my will.” Raising her laced hands, she stared into the camera with the same intensity Eve remembered. “You may think I was presumptuous to assume you would leave your life in New York to come back home, but we both know you weren’t happy there.” She leaned back in the swivel chair Eve occupied, looking relaxed and comfortable. “If I thought you were, I never would have asked you to do this.”

  Eve had tried to put on a brave face with her aunt, pretending all was well in her corner of the world, but she wasn’t surprised Sharon had seen through her act. She was the most perceptive person Eve knew, which was one of the many qualities that made her an exceptional writer.

  “I had such high hopes for you,” Sharon continued. “I knew you could be anything you wanted to be.”

  Eve thought for a moment about some of her childhood fantasies. She’d wanted to teach English as a second language, travel the world, learn about different cultures, help build a school in an underprivileged village… yet she’d never stepped out of her comfort zone long enough to do any of those things.

  “But then you met Alex, and it was like all of your dreams revolved around him.” Sharon sighed. “That made me so sad. I wanted so much more for you. I wanted you to love yourself as much as you loved him, to believe in yourself as much as you believed in him.”

  Eve paused the video. Was Sharon’s claim true? Had she loved and believed in Alex more than she’d ever loved and believed in herself? She was almost ashamed to admit it, but she feared her aunt may be right. She’d encouraged Alex to pursue his M.B.A. knowing he would excel at it, as he did at everything else. When she considered getting a graduate degree, she talked herself out of it, claiming she might do it when the time was right. Pressing the button to resume the video, she sat back, determined to listen intently to her aunt’s final words of wisdom, knowing they could provide the insight she needed to help her rebuild her shattered life.