by Gun Brooke
First, as it is the easiest part, Paulina Nieves. You will inherit my New York condo on the Upper East Side. You will also receive a pension consisting of twice your salary at my demise, and the same for your husband Arthur, for both your natural lives. The upkeep and fees associated with owning the condo will be paid for the same duration.” Maeve put down the first paper and began reading from the next. “Aeron, my beloved daughter.” Maeve looked up into the camera. Her eyes shone from tears refusing to dislodge. “Don’t freak out now. You inherit the rest. What doesn’t go to Paulina, or her heirs, should she no longer be with us, goes to you. I do have conditions. You have to keep my charities going. All twenty-eight of them, or more, if I’ve added some at the time of my death, which I hope I have. You must also keep any business agreement I made with Sylvie Thorn, unless she and I have already parted ways financially. I gave her my word I’d see this investment through. Before I go into the details of the part of my will that concerns both of you, I want to say something. Perhaps if I was an old bat before I kicked the bucket, I’ve already told you, at least I hope so.
I was a crappy mother, and I can only hope I’ve managed to rectify this as I planned. If not, please don’t give up on me. Examine my last will and testament, my girl. Carefully go through old documents. Don’t throw it all away unread because of old hurts. Please.”
Maeve smiled with trembling lips, and it was clear to Aeron her mother really was teary-eyed. “And now, Sylvie, and I hope you’re here. If you’re not, Lucas will stop the DVD now.” Maeve sat still, as if she actually expected Lucas Hayes to come and turn the DVD off.
“Sylvie, you are one of many who approached me over the years with the idea of becoming a silent partner and investor. In fact, I initially chose to partner with you because you were my very first Swedish acquaintance and I had this insane idea you might be able to introduce me to ABBA.” Maeve chuckled and wiped at her eyelashes. “Silly, I know. Then I got to know you, and even if you don’t need my input when it comes to business, you are always willing to hear me out. After all, I’m our best customer and know from that end how the business works.” Maeve looked intently at them and then cleared her throat again. “Sylvie, here’s the thing. I want you to work with Aeron like you did with me. Take her under your wing and mentor her. I keep telling her she has so much going for her, but she doesn’t listen to me, and who can blame her? Teach her about the cutthroat nature of business. Once you’ve done that and Aeron knows enough to make an informed decision, the investment I made in Classic Swedish Inc. will be turned into a gift from me to you. It’s not enough for everything you taught me, but at least you need not worry about not having absolute majority.
This way Aeron can learn enough to decide if she wants to manage the DeForest fortune or allow the board of directors and trustees to keep their power of attorney. If Aeron turns you down, I can only surmise my daughter has finally decided to reject me once and for all. Then, the entire estate—after Paulina has received her share—will go to the Belmont Foundation in Rhode Island. As you are the two most important people in my life, it’s my genuine hope that you find a way to work together. Most of all, though, I hope I died at the ripe old age of 103. See you later. Much later!” She blew the camera a lavish kiss.
Mr. Hayes turned off the DVD player and flat-screen. Aeron tried to gather her thoughts, turning her head in Sylvie’s direction. Sylvie’s assistant scribbled on his notepad as if his life hung in the balance, while her mother’s business partner calmly sat with her hands folded on her lap, her eyes locked on Aeron in what had to be a silent challenge.
Mr. Hayes cleared his voice. “That’s Maeve DeForest’s last will and testament in short. A more detailed print version exists, but she outlined it well on the video. Among Ms. Aeron DeForest, Ms. Sylvie Thorn, and Mrs. Paulina Nieves, you have inherited all of the DeForest estate at different levels, which boils down to roughly worth 25 billion dollars. Mrs. Nieves does not have to worry about any stipulations, but Ms. DeForest and Ms. Thorn and her company Classic Swedish Inc. do.”
Aeron couldn’t breathe. She was stuck in a weird nightmare and couldn’t move the air in and out of her lungs. She hadn’t had an anxiety attack in a while, but this was how it felt: throat-constricting and sweat-producing, like her hands and feet were immersed in ice. She had to get out of here. No matter what anyone else in the room said, she couldn’t stay. Standing up fast enough to knock over her chair, she hurried through the elegant office.
“Ms. DeForest!” Lucas Hayes called out. “I have a lot more information—”
“I don’t care. I don’t want any of it. Give it away. Give every cent to that foundation.”
Chapter Four
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Aeron darted along the corridor to the outer office. There, the elevator doors were about to close and she slipped inside, grateful the car was empty. She pressed her back against the wall after pushing the button for the lobby. Her heart boomed, and she had to make herself breathe deep and slow.
As she stepped outside, the sun shone brightly. New Yorkers hurried up and down the wide sidewalks, and cars crawled on the congested street. Nobody paid her any attention, which was a good thing. She began to walk, and after a few blocks, she saw one of the few old-fashioned coffee houses left in Manhattan and stepped inside. Only when she sat down with her latte did she remember she was supposed to have coffee with Paulina.
“Fuck,” Aeron muttered under her breath. She didn’t have Paulina’s phone number. She hoped Paulina would think to ask Mr. Hayes for it and call her. Now Aeron felt utterly foolish for running, but after seeing Maeve, looking so alive and, in the strangest way, so familiar yet alien, she’d freaked out. She’d had to run or have a full-blown panic attack right there in front of everybody. Even if she knew how to cope with her anxiety better these days, at times the panic would wash over her and make her feel as if she were actually drowning.
*
Vermont—1997
“This will be your room, Aeron. You’ll share with another girl your age. Her name is Melissa, and she’s at the library right now with her group.” The tall, thin woman, Mrs. Marie Crenshaw, motioned toward the bed to the left. “I understand Aeron’s belongings are sitting in the lobby still. We’ll help you carry them up later and get settled, pumpkin.”
Pumpkin? Aeron blinked. That was what Maeve called her when she was in an extra-good mood. What an odd thing for a teacher to call a student. Her teacher in Manhattan had called them strictly by their first name, no nicknames whatsoever. She had even complained about Aeron’s unusual name once and asked if she had another first name that sounded more normal. As Aeron was called only that, she had to disappoint that teacher.
“We look forward to having you as our special guest for dinner, Mrs. DeForest—”
“Oh, I’m not staying.” Maeve was all smiles and big hand gestures. “I have an appointment back in New York later this evening, and I should get going right away.”
“But parents are encouraged to participate in installing their child, especially when they’re this young. Several days in some cases, actually. It helps the children to transition and reassures them.” Still sounding kind and not mad at Maeve at all, Mrs. Crenshaw tilted her head.
“Aeron, you will find, is a very easy child to be around. She rarely cries and carries on, and she’s very good at playing by herself.”
A small voice inside Aeron’s head wanted to object. She did cry. Just not when anyone saw her. She did play by herself, but only because she had no friends.
“I’m fine, Mae—Mom.” Aeron knew she sounded like a polite robot. “You should go to your meeting. I look forward to meeting Melissa and the others and to starting school here.” In fact, Aeron dreaded it. She would hate it if the other children were far ahead in their studies. And the opposite was just as bad. Enough kids had called her a four-eyed nerd at her last school for doing her homework. And having glasses.
“Are you sure, pumpkin?” Mrs.
Crenshaw put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sure.” Did the lie look convincing?
“Very well.” Clearly not pleased with Maeve taking off, Mrs. Crenshaw stayed with them while they said good-bye.
Maeve kept smiling broadly, and every now and then she bit her lower lip, only to break out in another dazzling smile as she let go. “Have fun with all your new friends here. I’m sure you’ll do me proud and learn tons of new stuff. I’ll see you around…eh…Halloween.”
It was early August and Halloween was almost three months away. It felt like forever. Without being able to stop herself, Aeron’s chin started trembling as Maeve rose.
“M-Mom? You’re coming back, right?” This was usually a surefire way to annoy her mother, but the words popped out on their own.
“But of course!” Maeve threw herself on her knees and pulled Aeron in for a long hug. Too stunned to reciprocate, Aeron’s heart pounded hard at the unexpected embrace, but mostly at how her mother trembled against her. “I have to do what’s best for you, and trust me, Aeron, that’s not me right now. You’ll have a real home here during the semesters, and you can tell me all about it during the holidays.” She stood, and now her smile wasn’t as dazzling, but more tense and her eyes shiny. Turning around quickly, Maeve nodded at Mrs. Crenshaw and walked out the door of Maeve’s new room.
“Maeve…” Forgetting she was supposed to say “Mom,” Aeron stood alone in the center of the cozy room. Built-in bookshelves of dark wood, a bed with lots of pillows, a mauve rug stretching from her part of the room over to Melissa’s, two desks, and two walk-in closets.
“Listen, pumpkin,” Mrs. Crenshaw said, and cupped Aeron’s chin. “I think your mom left because she was too upset about not having you with her and she didn’t want you to know.”
“Why?” Feeling instinctively that questions were not only allowed here, but encouraged, Aeron leaned in to the kind touch.
“I don’t know. When your mom said you rarely cry, I think she thought of herself. Neither of you shows your tears to anyone, I reckon. But you know what? If you need to have a good cry for any reason, you come to me or any of the teachers that you feel comfortable with. We can always sort things out, you know.”
Aeron gazed up into Mrs. Crenshaw’s friendly eyes. She wasn’t used to having someone’s full attention directed at her for very long at a time. Paulina was always at Maeve’s service, and Maeve kept reminding Paulina and Aeron who paid her salary. Maeve’s needs always came first.
“What do you say, pumpkin? Should we try to find Mr. Crenshaw and have him help us bring your luggage up?” Mrs. Crenshaw grinned. “His first name is Horatio, but I call him Horsey. Don’t tell him I told you, all right?”
Aeron had to giggle, and the secret joke took a tiny bit of the sadness and anger away. She held on to Mrs. Crenshaw’s hand as they walked down the staircase. This house did look like a real home. Much more than Maeve’s condo that was full of things she wasn’t allowed to touch. Here, it appeared you could sit on the couch with your feet up, like in the movies, and perhaps even drink hot cocoa by the television. It was strange that despite so many things being right with this place, she still missed Maeve so much it hurt.
*
Manhattan—Present Time
Aeron’s cell phone rang, and she transported back from the past and saw it was the lawyer’s office.
She answered, hoping it was Paulina. “Hello?”
“Aeron, sweetheart. Are you all right?” Paulina’s voice was so concerned and warm that Aeron had to blink against her tears. “Aeron?”
“I’m here. Yes. I’m okay. I’m sorry for leaving you behind like that. I just…I just couldn’t…”
“I know. You don’t have to apologize. Are you close by? Do you still want to have coffee?”
Aeron told Paulina where she was and that she’d wait for her. “They have pies and sandwiches too. We can have lunch if you want.”
“Sounds terrific, Aeron. I’ll be there in a little while. Here’s Ms. Thorn for you.”
What? Aeron grew rigid and clutched the phone.
“Ms. DeForest? Sylvie Thorn here.” Her voice was stern, and she spoke fast, with a faint accent Aeron couldn’t place. “As I’m sure you understand after hearing your mother’s will, we need to meet up and talk.”
“I don’t see why.” Cringing at how rude she sounded, Aeron covered her eyes with her free hand. “The Belmont Foundation can have Maeve’s money. I don’t want it.”
“I think that’s your grief talking.” Sylvie Thorn’s voice was low but not without compassion. “I didn’t know Maeve had a daughter, but other sides of her I knew quite well. Please give me a chance to explain why you need to not make this type of decision while in this frame of mind.”
“And how could you possibly know which frame of mind I’m in?” Aeron spat. “You don’t know me.” She huffed to herself at Sylvie Thorn’s obvious attempt to get the money Maeve had promised her if she fulfilled the terms of the will.
“No, but I would imagine losing your mother, no matter what your relationship was like, is difficult. All I ask is that you meet with me and hear me out. If you still are completely against your mother’s wishes, I…I won’t bother you again.”
“I’ve already made my decision. Forget it.” The words actually pained her as she let them escape. Aeron wasn’t sure why she suddenly was so guilt-ridden, but she was.
The silence at the other end stretched out. “I’m truly sorry you feel this way. I knew Maeve in a different light from how most people perceived her. It would’ve been nice to get to know the daughter she kept such a secret. But, as you’ve made your decision, all I can do is wish you well for the future. Good-bye.”
After a brief silence and then some noise, Paulina spoke again. ”Aeron. I’ll be with you in just a little while. Ms. Thorn is dropping me off at the coffee shop.”
“I’ll be here.” Aeron tucked her cell phone into her pocket. Something in Sylvie Thorn’s voice had disturbed her, but she wasn’t sure how. Had she meant she wasn’t one of Maeve’s party-till-you-drop entourage? Aeron didn’t think that was even possible. When had her mother had time for any friends of substance? She’d lived her life at rocket speed, enjoying one new club after another. She regarded drugs as her prerogative and used them as if no laws applied to her.
It had taken Aeron until she was in her late teens before she realized how deeply addicted her mother was to cocaine, different designer drugs, and alcohol, mainly champagne. She had no idea if Maeve ever did any heavier drugs. When she finally found out about them, she was eighteen at the time, she understood the mysterious mood swings that had plagued Maeve and affected her. She had then withdrawn and given up her futile struggle to have Maeve validate her. What a blow to realize Maeve would never become the mother she needed and dreamed about. Moreover, Aeron would never know why Maeve lived her life this way.
Aeron had finished her second latte when Paulina came into the coffee house. She strode up to Aeron’s corner table and pulled her up from the chair and hugged her. “My poor girl. This was a hard day for you. I’m so sorry.”
“She’s really gone.” Aeron’s words echoed, empty. “I’ll never know her now. I’ll never know what I did wrong or why she did drugs or…Paulina…” She slumped down in the chair again. “I just want to go back home to the Adirondacks. I don’t want any more lawyer meetings or to deal with Maeve’s estate. I truly don’t.”
“I know, but to some degree you have to. You have to sign a plethora of documents and decide which things of your mothers you want to keep. She kept your room intact, so there’s the matter of your own belongings as well.”
Aeron’s jaw sagged. “What?”
Paulina tilted her head as she held on to Aeron’s hand. “You didn’t know.”
“No. I was pretty sure she might have put everything in storage and turned my room into a gym or bar or whatever.” The idea of her room being as she left it made her dizzy. Aeron sobb
ed and clasped her free hand over her mouth. “Do you mean I have to go back there?”
“It’s been way too long, my girl. Five years since you saw her. Eight years since you left the condo for good.”
“Feels a lot longer.” It did. Going away to college had meant almost severing her contact with Maeve, unless she counted a couple of Christmases and Thanksgivings when she’d more or less vanished in the massive crowd in the condo when Maeve had decided to “have a few friends over.”
“How about we go over some things together tomorrow?” Paulina patted her hand.
“Do you want the furniture? I mean, if it’s similar to what I remember, it’s nice.”
“But it’s yours, sweetheart.” Paulina blushed. “Most of it is as you remember. She had a few rooms redesigned, but the living areas are as they’ve always been.”
“So, if you like any of it, please keep it.” Aeron couldn’t imagine any of the luxurious couches, tables, or lamps in her rustic cabin.
“All right. Let me know if you change your mind. It’s all right if you do.”
“I won’t.” Aeron sighed. “God, where are my manners. What can I get you? Coffee? A slice of pie?”
“Stay here. I’ll go up to the counter and order us some salads.” Paulina rose, and Aeron gazed dimly after the woman who’d been more of a mother to her than Maeve had ever managed. Paulina had taught her the basics in early childhood: how to tie her shoes, brush her hair, eat at the table properly, and so on. Maeve had probably implied that these menial tasks were beneath her—or that she simply didn’t have time. Paulina, who was actually only the cook/housekeeper, had stepped up to the plate, and Aeron had no idea what her life would have been like if Paulina hadn’t loved her like one of her own daughters.
