by Lisa Moreau
“So, I’ll just sell it. I don’t need land in Monarch or a butterfly…thing,” Jordan said, thinking aloud. “But are you sure there isn’t some mistake?”
“It’s all in the will. I think you should come to Monarch, Ms.—”
“No! I’m not going to Monarch. Can’t you just handle everything for me?” Jordan looked up as Doug walked into her office. She motioned for him to sit.
“I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but there’s a stipulation in the will.”
Aha. She knew there had to be a catch. “What kind of stipulation?”
“Everything is in the letter from your grandmother. I had hoped to give it to you in person so we could discuss it.”
“A letter? What does it say? Can’t you overnight it to me?”
Doug mouthed a silent “What’s up?” which prompted Jordan to hold up a finger.
“I suppose I could. Should I send it to your office address?”
“Yes, please. But can’t you tell me what it says?”
“I’m afraid not. Your grandmother had strict instructions. Only you should open it. I suggest you give me a call after you’ve read the letter. My contact information will be included in the package. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you soon.” Jordan hung up and stared at Doug.
“What was that about? Jordan? Are you okay?”
“Remember when I wished that a big pile of money would drop in my lap?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I think we just hit the jackpot.”
*
Jordan looked at her watch for the fortieth time, wondering what time UPS arrived. For once she was glad Tiffany was late. She didn’t want her turning the package away or opening it herself. Doug walked past Jordan’s office and stuck his head in the door.
“Nothing yet?” he asked.
“No, and the suspense is killing me.” Jordan chewed the nail of her little finger. “What kind of stipulation could there be? We’re probably getting our hopes up for nothing. My grandmother wouldn’t leave me something valuable.”
They both looked toward the front door as it opened. Doug glanced back at Jordan. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
After signing for the package, Jordan stared at the envelope on her desk.
“Do you want some privacy?” Doug asked.
“No, have a seat. You’re more family than my grandmother ever was.”
She ripped open the package and briefly glanced at the letter from Mr. Simms before seeing a white envelope that read, To be opened by Jordana Lee after the death of Frances Lee. She glanced at Doug and took a deep breath. The letter was dated a few weeks before her death.
Dearest Jordana,
If you’re reading this, then I am dead. And so be it. This life has dragged on too long as it is. My only regret at being six feet under is that I missed seeing the look on your father’s face upon learning that you are the sole heir of my property.
I never was one for sentimental drivel, so I’ll get to the point. Until a few months ago I didn’t know why you disappeared that New Year’s Eve. For all I knew you’d been killed in the earthquake, since Charles never spoke your name again. It wasn’t until Rebecca blabbed everything after one too many mai tais at lunch that I knew what had happened.
Whatever the circumstances, we’re family and should stick together, which is a lesson I must have failed to impart to my son. The three of us are all that’s left, and now that I’m gone it’s just you and your father. Since I couldn’t bring you two together while I was alive, perhaps I can do so from the grave.
By now you know that you own two acres of land as well as the monarch butterfly sanctuary. You’re free to do with it as you wish under three stipulations:
1. You must live in Monarch and work at the sanctuary for two months.
2. Your two-month residence must commence within one week from receipt of this letter.
3. You must meet with your father twice within those two months and try to make reasonable amends.
Michael Simms, my attorney and trusted friend, will periodically check on you to make sure you are adhering to these three items. If you fail to comply, the land and sanctuary will be given to the State of California.
Sincerely,
Frances Lee
Jordan stared at the letter and read the three items several more times. She looked at Doug, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “Fuck.”
“Wow,” Doug said. “Why does she want you to move to Monarch for two months?”
“’Cause she knows I wouldn’t step foot in that town unless forced to do so. I guess she thinks if I’m there, then my dad and I will have a better chance of reconciling. But why does she want me to work at the sanctuary if she doesn’t care if I sell it?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea.”
Doug grabbed the letter and scanned it. “Who’s Rebecca?”
“My stepmother, which is a joke since she’s only ten years older than me.” Jordan jumped out her chair and paced back and forth. “Okay, let’s break this down. We have the property. It is, in fact, ours.”
“We?”
Jordan stopped and looked at Doug. “Yes, we. You’re more than just my business partner. You’re like a brother to me. I wouldn’t have survived the last ten years without you.”
Doug smiled as his eyes misted. “I feel the same way.”
“Okay, enough of this sentimental drivel,” Jordan said with a grin. “So, the land is ours to sell if I move to Monarch for two months, work at the sanctuary, and make contact with my father twice.”
A wave of nausea washed over Jordan as her heart pounded. She plopped into the chair and put her head between her legs, the room suddenly spinning. She heard a muffled voice, maybe Doug asking if she was okay. Black spots clouded her vision right before she encountered total darkness. The next thing Jordan remembered was feeling puffs of air on her face. As she blinked her eyes open, Doug was frantically fanning her with a file folder as she lay flat on her back. She tried to sit up, but he held her down.
“Don’t get up just yet. You fainted.” Doug sounded frightened, even though he knew it wasn’t anything serious. They’d been through this many times.
She closed her eyes and laid her arm over her forehead. “How long was I out?”
“Just a few minutes. You’re lucky you didn’t knock your head on the desk.”
After she lay still for a couple of minutes, Doug helped her stand upright and sit in the chair. Jordan rolled her eyes and felt heat rise to her cheeks. The fainting episodes were embarrassing and always made her feel like such a wimp. It was the only thing in her life she couldn’t control.
“These spells seem to be happening more often,” Doug said.
“I’m fine. So, where was I?” Jordan asked, wanting to change the subject.
“You were talking about seeing your dad again. Ten years is a long time. Maybe he’s had a change of heart.”
“You don’t know my father. He isn’t the forgiving type. God, I can’t go back to Monarch. I just can’t. And live there for two months?”
“I’ll support whatever decision you make. We’ve made a success of SOS without your grandmother’s money. We don’t need it.”
Jordan gaped at Doug. “It’s two million dollars. Do you have any idea what we could do with that much money?”
“Don’t remind me.” Doug sighed and gazed out the window as Jordan rested her forehead on the desk.
“You never did tell me what happened with your father. All you said was that he threw you out so you went to live with your mom in New York.”
Jordan groaned loudly. She lifted her head and looked at Doug, who was staring directly at her. It wasn’t that Jordan didn’t want Doug to know the whole sordid story. If anyone would understand it’d be him. She just didn’t want to relive the memory. The compassionate look on his face, though, urged her on.
“It was a few
days before New Year’s Eve,” she said. “I was a senior in high school, about to graduate in four months and excited about going to college. I came home one day to a very angry father and stepmother sitting at the kitchen table…with my journals.”
“They read your diaries?”
“Oh yeah. All five years’ worth.”
“So what’d you write?”
“They were mostly filled with feelings and fantasies about my best friend.”
“Who I take was a girl?”
“Most definitely. I had a huge crush on her.” Jordan ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, actually, it was more than that. She was my first love.” And last.
“Seriously? You were in love?” Doug pointed at Jordan in disbelief.
“Geez, you make me sound like some sort of robot incapable of having a human emotion.”
“Sorry. I’m just surprised you never mentioned her before. So, your dad freaked over you being gay? Is that when he threw you out?”
“He said I was a disgrace to the family, that he never wanted to see me again, and that I was going to hell. He tracked my mom down in New York and shipped me to her a few days later. I got my GED, took a few business classes at community college, and that’s where you and I met.” Jordan’s stomach clenched and a hard lump formed in her throat. Damn. This shouldn’t still be so hard.
“Bastard. How could he do that to his own child?”
“I wasn’t a boy.”
“What?”
“My father always wanted a son. He made that fact clear from the moment I was born. He’d have badgered my mom into getting pregnant again, but she was too wrapped up in her career. I always wondered if he would have reacted the same way if I were his son.”
“I’m so sorry. What did that girl say when you left?”
“I couldn’t tell her about any of that,” Jordan said, shaking her head. “She was totally straight, dating the star quarterback, no less. I was ashamed, and more than anything, I didn’t want her to hate me. So I took the coward’s way out and disappeared without an explanation. I didn’t think she’d understand.”
“So she didn’t know you were in love with her? And you haven’t seen or talked to her in all these years?”
“Nope. Not a word. Aside from the fact that I thought she’d hate me, I couldn’t be friends with her anymore. It’d become too painful to be in love and not be able to act on my feelings. Unrequited love sucks.” Jordan’s shoulders slumped as she inhaled a shaky breath. She felt empty inside, like a hollowed-out log, as memories of that time flooded back.
“Huh. I’ve never heard you use the L-word before. That’s so sad. Are you still in love with her?”
Jordan shot her gaze upward to Doug. “No! Of course not.” That came out a little stronger than Jordan had intended, so she softened her tone. “We were teenagers. And like I said, it was a long time ago. No one could stay in love with someone for a decade when they’re not even together.”
They couldn’t, right? Admittedly, Jordan had compared every woman she’d dated to Sophie, and no one came remotely close to the Disney Princess, but she couldn’t still be in love with her.
“Is that part of the reason you don’t want to go back? You’re afraid of running into her again?”
“I doubt she lives in Monarch. She’s probably married with two point five kids and living in Utah. That’s where we were planning to go to college.”
“If she is there, would you tell her the truth? I mean, would you tell her you were in love with her?”
Jordan shook her head. “No. What would be the point? It’d just make us both uncomfortable.”
“What was her name?”
“Sophie. Her name was Sophie.”
Chapter Four
Welcome to Monarch
“Would you slow down a sec? You’re running around like a madwoman,” Doug said.
“If I slow down I might change my mind.” Jordan frantically stuffed clothes into a suitcase as Doug lounged on her bed. She rummaged through a box of sweaters, wondering if she’d need them. December along the central coast was usually cool, so she grabbed a few.
Was she seriously going to go to Monarch for two months? See her father again and maybe Sophie? Jordan was torn between desperately wanting to see her and praying that she wouldn’t. She didn’t revel in the idea of dredging up her painful first love. It’d taken years for the gut-wrenching agony of unrequited love and separation to fade. Sometimes, late at night, she wondered if the loss had actually dissipated or if she’d just slapped a Band-Aid on it in the form of work and fleeting relationships. She certainly didn’t want to rip that sucker off to reveal a fresh wound.
It’s two million dollars. It’s two million dollars. That became her mantra, the only thing that kept her moving. With that much money, she and Doug could accomplish everything they wanted with SOS. She could do this. She had to do this. No way in hell would she pass up that much money.
“Are you going to be okay here by yourself?” Jordan stopped packing long enough to study Doug. “I won’t be back until February, and I don’t know how much help I’ll be working remotely. A leopard-person works at the sanctuary. I’ll just sit back and let him do all the work, but I’m sure I’ll have to do something.”
“I’ll be fine. We might have to cut back on clients, but it’ll be worth it in the long run.” Doug shifted on the bed and suddenly looked uncomfortable. “What if you go and decide not to sell?”
“Are you kidding?” Jordan laughed. “I don’t want anything to do with Monarch. And I could care less about a butterfly sanctuary. Mr. Simms, that lawyer, has already set up a meeting with a real-estate agent. I’m selling. You can count on that.”
Doug sighed in relief. “That’s what I thought, but it’s good to hear you say it.”
Jordan looked at her cell phone as it rang. “Ugh. It’s Bibi. She’s been calling me at the office. Let me grab this and get rid of her.”
Jordan walked into the living room for some privacy as she answered the phone. “Bibi, why are you calling me? We broke up.”
“Mon chéri, finally we speak. I’ve missed you so. And correction. You broke up with moi. I did not break up with you. Can’t we talk about this?”
“Look, I’m sorry the way things ended. I’m sure I could have handled it better. Maybe we can get together and talk when I get back.” Jordan didn’t intend to ever see Bibi again. By the time she got back from Monarch, she’d have surely moved on and forgotten they’d even dated.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s a long story, but I’ll be away for a couple of months.”
“Months?! Why so long? Where will you be?”
“I have to go to Monarch. It’s something to do with my family.”
“I didn’t even know you had family. Where is this Monarch?”
“It’s along the central coast. I really need to get on the road. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Maybe I could come with you. I have a month off before we start shooting another commercial.”
“No! It’s a ridiculously small town with no decent restaurants. You’d be bored stiff. I really have to go now. Good-bye, Bibi.” Jordan disconnected and wondered if maybe she’d just made a huge mistake by telling Bibi where she’d be.
*
It took Jordan longer than necessary to drive the two hundred and fifty miles from Los Angeles to Monarch. She stopped at least ten times along the way in an attempt to delay the inevitable. Her stomach clenched as the mileage signs progressed…twenty…ten…five. At the two-mile marker, she gripped the steering wheel, dread weighing her down like a brick in the pit of her stomach.
Are you happy now, Grandma? Your little bribe worked.
“That’s new,” Jordan said to herself as she passed a massive Welcome to Monarch butterfly-shaped sign at the city limits. In fact, as she drove through town she didn’t recognize much. All the stores on Main Street were painted in orange and black and had been renamed, s
uch as the Butterfly Beauty Parlor, Caterpillar Car Wash, and Monarch Messenger.
“They’re a little butterfly obsessed, wouldn’t you say?” she mumbled.
Actually, Jordan liked that everything looked so different. This way, maybe she could pretend she wasn’t in Monarch after all. As she cruised through town, she grumbled obscenities under her breath. She’d forgotten how small the place was. How would she survive two months without the Beverly Center, Saks, and dining at the Ivy? She might go insane from boredom. This was bound to be the longest two months of her life.
It’s two million dollars…it’s two million dollars…
Jordan slammed on her brakes to avoid rear-ending a blue Ford. Could this person be driving any slower!? She glared at the I ♥ butterflies bumper sticker on the car going fifteen miles per hour in a thirty-five zone. From what she could tell, the driver didn’t need medical attention, so she sat on her horn, hoping that’d wake the woman up. It was like no one had ever honked in town before. Pedestrians stopped on the sidewalk, drivers screeched to a halt, and a police officer sprang into action like a bank robbery had just occurred. Jordan hunkered down in the seat and floored it, passing the slowpoke when the coast was clear.
Now where the hell were the condos? Jordan had leased a furnished place along the beach and close to the butterfly sanctuary. Google Maps was no help since she couldn’t get a cell signal, so she drove down Main Street several times and took a few side streets, which all resulted in dead ends. How could she be lost in such a small town where she’d spent most of her teen years? It wasn’t her fault, though, since everything looked different and there weren’t even any street signs.
Jordan hated asking for directions, but she had no choice. Under the ruse of needing coffee, she claimed a parking spot on Main Street, right in front of Madame Butterfly’s Psychic Parlor. Great. They didn’t have street signs, but they had a psychic. Seagulls squawked overhead, and the musty scent of salt and fish filled the air when Jordan opened her car door. She stood on the sidewalk and frowned at her cell phone. Still no bars. A flicker of light from the supernatural house of horrors caught her eye. Out of curiosity, she inched closer and peeked into the window. The place looked completely dark except for dozens of flaming candles. Talk about a fire hazard. Jordan squinted, half expecting to see a séance in progress, but all she spotted was a huge crystal ball and wild-looking tapestry hanging on the walls. The place gave her the creeps, so she backed away and walked down the sidewalk holding her phone high in an attempt to catch a signal. As Jordan turned the corner, past the Butterfly Bookstore, she ran smack-dab into a short, busty woman who was as solid as a rock. Jordan stumbled backward and stared into piercing ebony eyes accentuated by thick black eyeliner and false eyelashes an inch long. The woman had bloodred hair piled at least a foot high and wore a flowing indigo gown with gold swirls. She looked like a carnival fortune-teller.
