by S. J. Bishop
Pushing open the door, I entered a small sitting room where a secretary looked up from her cell phone. I watched her try to hide a double take at the sight of Law. Whether she was a Dolphins fan and recognized him, or whether she was impressed by his appearance, I couldn't tell. But her reaction made me take another look as well. Handsome. Powerful. Unforgiving. Whatever emotions had been riding him in the car, Law had swallowed them and was giving his best forbidding, immutable Sphinx look.
“We’re here to see Mr. Howe,” I said to the secretary. “We have a nine o'clock appointment,” I pressed because the woman was still staring at Law.
“Yes,” she said after a moment, turning her attention back to me. She picked up the phone near her desk and pressed a button: “You're nine o’clock is here,” she said. Then she set down the phone. “Mr. Howe will see you.” She pointed behind her to a door that was just opening.
The man who stood in the doorway was in his mid-fifties and was thin but for a small, rounded gut. He wore glasses and had combed over his thinning brown hair; his smile seemed appropriately sympathetic. “Ms. Mathers, come in,” he said. Then he noticed Law in the background, and his eyes rounded with surprise. “Lawrence Henry!” Definitely a Miami Dolphins fan.
While Law had taken care of the funeral arrangements, I had set up the meeting with the lawyer – so it made a certain amount of sense that he hadn’t expected Law to come with me.
It took Mr. Howe a moment to recover his equilibrium. “Come in, both of you,” he said finally and ushered us into the room.
We sat down in the chairs before his desk, and he sat down behind the desk and opened a black folder. He nodded to himself as if just realizing something. “Law Henry,” he said after a moment, as if just figuring out why Law was here. “You must be related to Eric Henry.”
Law inclined his head. “He was my brother.”
Mr. Howe took a deep breath. “I’m incredibly sorry for your loss. Losing a loved one is never easy.” He paused as if trying to figure out how to phrase what he had to say next. “I sincerely regret to inform you, Mr. Henry, that Eric didn't have a will.”
Uh oh. I hadn’t expected that.
“But Mia did,” I said quickly. “Surely, they wrote the will together.”
Mr. Howe shook his head. “If they did, I never met with Mr. Henry. I only ever met with Ms. Mathers. Granted, she left him most of her worldly possessions. But since he cannot claim them, they will go to her next of kin, her daughter.”
I nodded. This wasn’t news, and Law was nodding, too. He’d been expecting that as well. Nobody plans on dying before they hit their thirtieth birthday. That Mia had a will at all was strange, but I wasn’t about to questions my sister’s foresight.
“But since Nikki is two…” Mr. Howe continued. I took a deep breath. I knew what was coming next, “…and Ms. Mathers, since you are Nikki’s legal guardian…”
“I'm sorry, what?” Law interrupted.
Mr. Howe blinked and cleared his threat, “Mia left a provision in case Mr. Henry could not take care of her daughter. She named Ms. Mather’s Nikki’s legal guardian.” He turned back to me. “Which means, Ms. Mathers, that you will be responsible for overseeing Mia’s possessions and Nikki’s future…”
“Where in that paper does it say that Gwen is Nikki's legal guardian?” Law held out a demanding hand, and Mr. Howe, looking startled, riffled through pages, underlined something with a pen, and handed it to Law. Law read it, his face growing stiller by the second.
Then he handed the paper back. “I'd like to propose working out shared custody.”
I took a deep breath. I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy. “Law,” I said quietly, “I'm not interested in working shared custody. This isn’t a surprise to me. Mia asked me about it before she wrote the will.”
“When did you two work this out?” asked Law, matching my soft tones.
“When Mia was pregnant.”
Law nodded, as if I’d confirmed something. “Nikki was baptized,” he said. “Eric took her when Mia was traveling on business. He named me godfather.”
“Mr. Henry,” Mr. Howe cut in, hesitantly. “I regret to inform you that unless your brother had a will, a church baptism will not stand in place of a legal court document bearing Mia Mather’s signature…”
“Since Nikki was born, Gwen has visited the child once,” Law interrupted. “I, on the other hand, babysat often, took her out – she knows me and she’s comfortable with me, and as her godfather, I am more than willing and imminently able to provide for her…”
“This is something I am unable to solve for you,” interrupted Mr. Howe. “I am merely the executor…”
“This is absurd. I make eight million dollars a year, and Gwen, I’d be surprised if you crack into the triple digits. There’s no way you can care for Nikki better than I could.”
I frowned. No need to be rude about it.
“I'm sorry,” said Law, not sounding at all sorry, “but caring for a child is expensive. I have the means to take better care of Nikki than you could.”
I closed my eyes. Oh god. This was going to get messy.
Mr. Howe cleared his throat. “If it's money you're concerned about, Mr. Henry, you needn't be. Mia left Nikki quite a bit of money.”
Law didn’t roll his eyes, but he might as well have for all the disdain that emanating from him. “Nikki,” he bit out, “was a mediocre accountant at best. She and Eric could barely afford their Jeep and their apartment, let alone set aside money for Nikki’s future. I know how much is in their joint account, and I lost count of all of the times Eric asked me for a loan so he might buy something without having to pay interest. Whatever Mia and Eric left their daughter won’t touch the amount that I’d be able to set aside for her.”
Mr. Howe opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue. Then he closed it and handed me a piece of paper. I looked at the paper closely enough to realize that he was handing me a bank statement. On the top were account numbers, Mia's name and social security number, and underneath them was an amount. I gasped.
Without ceremony, Law reached over and plucked the paper out of my hands. It wasn't difficult; my fingers had gone nerveless.
"Six million dollars?" Law sounded incredulous. "Where on earth did Mia Mathers get six million dollars?” He glared at me, as if I’d be able to provide him with answers.
I shrugged, helplessly. My mind was whirling. I could come up with a million ways my sister could have gotten her hands on six million dollars, and none of them were legal. Suddenly, it made sense that she might have a will at the age of 26. Six million dollars… Mia, what did you get yourself into?!
I had a terrible feeling that I was going to find out soon.
“This has to be a mistake,” Law was saying. “I know the state of Mia and Eric’s finances! I loaned them almost $75,000 to buy their apartment…”
I needed to get out of there. What if Mia had done something illegal? It might give Law grounds to press for custody. Can’t trust the Mathers women! Mother’s an addict; the daughter was a thief…. What if it wasn’t Mia’s money at all! What if it was Eric’s? Oh god! What if Mia and Eric’s accident wasn’t an accident! What if they had gotten themselves in serious trouble? I needed to leave. I needed to go to their apartment and see what information I could find.
“Mr. Howe,” I said. "If I have this right, then Mia left Nikki everything, and since I’m Nikki’s legal guardian, all I need to do is sign a few papers saying that I accept responsibility.”
Mr. Howe nodded. "That's right.”
Law looked ready to burst. “Gwen, you are being entirely unreasonable. Before you sign anything, we should talk about this…”
“There's nothing to talk about. I'm not going to allow Nikki to be a raised around your family.” I began flipping through the paperwork and signing the sections that Mr. Howe had highlighted. Law looked like he was barely restraining himself from ripping the papers out of my hands.
“Gwen,
Eric was my brother. Nikki is as much my niece as she is yours! And whether you like it or not, she’s a member of my family! We need to talk about this! You can’t just leave!”
Oh yes I could! I was already getting up. “Mr. Howe, thank you so much for your services. If I have any questions, I will call you.”
“Gwen, wait…” Law called after me, but I was already out the door.
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