Inevitable Inheritance

by Kade Charest

  Taylor didn’t even hesitate in her response. “He is going to marry us, right here, right now, so that your dad can be with us,” Taylor said softly, but matter-of-factly.

  Derrick looked to the good judge. He gave a small smile and nodded.

  “Taylor, that is so great,” Marty said as more tears trailed down her face. Simon just smiled.

  “Can I talk to you?” Derrick asked as he got up quickly and grabbed Taylor by the arm, dragging her across the room. “What are you doing?” he hissed at her as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “I am marrying you,” Taylor said without any trace of emotion; no happiness, sadness, or anger came through.

  “Taylor, you don’t—”

  “Derrick, your father is dying. He is the last parent either of us has. If we are doing this, let’s do it and let him be a part of it,” she said back, again devoid of emotion.

  Derrick looked over at his dad, and then looked down at the floor. This was so not the way he had wanted all of this to happen. “This feels like a business meeting called to order. I can’t just—”

  “Please, Derrick,” Taylor interrupted him. She moved her head to get into his field of vision and seemed to swallow a lump in her throat. “Please do this for me, for your dad, for Marty, for—” she took a deep breath, “do it for us.”

  She said all the right things. It was true that Derrick wanted his father to be part of this. And he would do anything for “us,” but it wasn’t the “us” he wanted. And that was the problem; he wanted to really be the “us” Taylor was referring to.

  “Are you guys okay?” Marty asked, startling them both as she came up behind them, sending them jumping. “Oh geez, I didn’t mean to scare you, but Dad is really awake now, so we should probably …”

  Taylor and Derrick looked back at Simon, who was practically beaming.

  “Uh,” Derrick hesitated, turned to Taylor, and widened his eyes at her, silently trying to convey his question: “Are you sure?”

  Taylor looked back at Derrick, gave a wavering, small smile, and nodded. When he didn’t move, she took his hand and pulled him back over to his father’s bed.

  “Perhaps if you two could stand at the end of the bed, Mr. Fletcher could see you the best,” Judge Thompson suggested to Derrick and Taylor as they approached, and Derrick allowed himself to be dragged by Taylor and positioned as the judge suggested.

  “Marty, will you stand next to me?” Taylor asked her.

  Marty bit her lip and nodded, going to Taylor’s side.

  “Oh wait,” Marty stopped and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Henry, will you take pictures for me?” When both Taylor and Derrick turned to her, Marty was quick to reassure them. “I won’t post them to anything, I just want to capture the moment,” she said rolling her eyes.

  When everyone was situated where they needed to be, Judge Thompson began. “Dearly beloved …”

  Taylor thought she was going to be sick.

  When she had called Todd after Derrick and Marty had spoken with the doctor and told him she wanted to marry Derrick, now, he and Charlie had moved faster than even Taylor knew was possible.

  Now she had an immediate marriage license and a judge marrying her in a hospital room where her soon-to-be father-in-law was imminently going to die.

  No pressure.

  “Do you, Taylor, take Derrick to be your lawful wedded husband …”

  Taylor heard the judge, and she was looking into Derrick’s eyes, and she really hoped he couldn’t see how unsure, nervous, and nauseated she was. She was totally scared. What if this was wrong? What if there was another way? What if …

  The judge had stopped talking. “I do,” she said, hoping it was the right thing to say.

  Derrick smiled, and the judge went on, “And do you, Derrick …”

  She needed to just be in the moment; she needed to just remember what she had to do for Preston Corp. And maybe, just a little, she was doing it to fulfill a dying man’s last request; that was where the guilt came in to play.

  When Taylor had gone to sit by Simon, he had reached for her hand, and she took his.

  “Taylor,” he said softly, like it was actually work to get it out.

  “Shhhh, don’t talk, Simon. I’m here with you. Derrick and Marty went to talk with the doctor,” she said, hoping to relax him.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said.

  “No, Simon, don’t—”

  “Please, I have to tell you,” Simon wheezed and coughed silently for a few seconds. “I told the kids, but they won’t remember, please.”

  Taylor heard the pleading and knew it was important, or at least important to Simon, and he deserved to have his last wishes heard. “Okay, tell me.”

  “My arrangements—they are all set up through Montgomery’s,” he began, and Taylor really didn’t want to hear him talk about what to do after he was gone, but she listened. Intently. She made sure she understood it all. He went over how everything should go and be handled, and he even had the number memorized and asked Taylor to put it in her phone. It took him a long time, with time for rest and coughing, but he got through it.

  “I got it all, Simon. I will make sure it is taken care of,” Taylor reassured him. “You just rest now. I promise I will take care of everything.”

  “I know you will take care of it. You always have, Taylor. There is one other thing I have to tell you.”

  She knew this was taking a lot of his energy, but she just could not say no to him. “Okay, Simon, let it out.”

  Simon gave her hand a hard squeeze. “I told him not to see you that night.”

  Taylor furrowed her brow and wondered if Simon was speaking nonsense. Her grandfather had spoken in riddles toward the end. The nurses assured her it was the medicine, that it was all normal. “I don’t understand—”

  “After his mother passed, he was going to take you out. I told him …” Simon coughed, then sucked in air and deep breath, and continued on, “I told him he wasn’t good enough. I was mad, I was so mad at everyone, at everything, and I took it out on him.”

  Oh this wasn’t nonsense.

  Taylor’s eyes widened in understanding, and she went back to that night in her head. The hurt she felt from the way Derrick had messed with her flashed back. It was like cutting open a scarred wound.

  “I, I don’t understand, Simon, why would you …”

  “Because I was hurting,” Simon croaked out, tears falling from his closed eyes. “He was going to get to be with the person he loved, and I had lost mine. I was selfish and angry, and just inhumane,” Simon paused.

  Taylor had a feeling she wasn’t the only one reliving pain.

  “Instead of hurting one person that night I hurt two. I often wonder if he had taken you out as he had planned if maybe we wouldn’t have had to abduct you like we did.”

  Taylor sat numb and slack-jawed at Simon’s confession. “Why are you—”

  “I just wanted you to know, Taylor. I know he won’t tell you, so I wanted you to know. The reason he didn’t go to you is because he loved you enough to let you have someone better.”

  Taylor just absorbed his message. And she thought about the man confessing to her and looked over to the man talking to a doctor and comforting his sister. And then she thought about all the hate and anger she had thrown at him because of that night.

  “He holds you in the highest esteem. He protected you even when you were nowhere to be found. He went crazy when you were gone—”

  “Simon, why are you telling me this?” Taylor said, cutting him off. She knew that this was his time to get things off his chest, but Taylor wasn’t sure she could hear any more.

  “Please take care of him. He will love you forever, Taylor, he always has, and you make him so happy. Please just make sure he stays happy,” Simon pleaded.

  Taylor just looked at Simon wide-eyed. How did she respond to that?

  He took some long deep breaths and shut his eyes. “I have to
rest now. I just had to let you know,” he said, and he drifted into a shallow easy breathing pattern.

  And now here she was hoping to ease a dying man’s guilt.

  “I do,” Derrick’s voice came through Taylor’s thoughts, bringing her back to the here and now.

  “Taylor, repeat after me: ‘I, Taylor Preston, take you, Derrick Fletcher, to be my lawfully wedded husband.’”

  Taylor repeated the words and made the promises and looked at Derrick. She felt slightly lighter as she made the vows. She hoped it meant that what she was doing was not a horrible mistake. Derrick looked very unsure as she repeated the words to him, and when it was his turn to say the vows, she nodded and kept her eyes on him as he repeated them to her.

  He claimed to have wanted this, claimed she was all he had wanted, but somehow it didn’t look like that was the case now, and that made Taylor very nervous.

  “I know you two are without rings, but that portion can be revisited, so I will get to it. I now pronounce you husband and wife. Derrick, you may kiss your bride,” Judge Thompson concluded.

  Derrick put his hands gently on Taylor’s face and pulled her in to him, stopping with his lips against hers. “I love you, Taylor,” he said and then gentle pushed his mouth against hers.

  His lips were soft, and Taylor absorbed the sensation, losing herself in it like she did every time Derrick kissed her. Because it was easier than realizing she was now a married woman.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Simon died forty-seven minutes after Derrick and Taylor made their wedding official.

  Marty turned into an absolute puddle when Simon heaved out one last sigh and did not take another in.

  “Daddy. Daddy! No, Daddy!”

  Derrick and Taylor let her cry and hold her father until she just about collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.

  “We have to get her home,” Derrick said, grabbing her under her arms and pulling her up. “Rog, can you take her back home?”

  “I will take her home, Mr. Fletcher,” Henry said, coming forward. He took Marty from Derrick’s arms. Derrick said nothing, but Taylor couldn’t help thinking it was odd. “Roger, will you accompany Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher home?”

  “Absolutely,” Rog replied.

  Taylor couldn’t stop wondering if she was the only one who thought it was weird that Henry was taking charge of Marty and leaving someone else with her and Derrick. Whatever. Taylor was just glad Derrick was too preoccupied to notice. It seemed whatever Henry did rubbed him the wrong way.

  “Derrick, do you want some time alone with him?” Taylor asked. Marty hadn’t wanted to be alone with him once he had passed. She had made that clear to Taylor earlier, but Derrick hadn’t had the chance.

  “Yes,” he said. His voice was flat, and his face matched his tone.

  “Okay, let me give you some time—”

  His arm struck out like a snake and grabbed onto Taylor’s wrist. “Please stay with me,” he said, his voice low, and shifted his eyes to the security detail they had been left with.

  “You want me to have them go?” Taylor asked him, and Derrick nodded, sliding his hand to her hand and squeezing it.

  Taylor walked over to Rog. “Hey, Rog,” she said and noticed sadness masking his face. “Would you like a moment with Mr. Fletcher?” she asked him.

  The large man hesitated. “I, uh, I don’t want to interfere with young Mr. Fletcher’s time.”

  “It’s okay, Rog, take your time,” Derrick said, crossing the room and coming to stand next to Taylor.

  Rog nodded and crossed the room to the peacefully resting Simon. “Thank you, Si. You are the best. Rest well, my friend.” Rog reached down and squeezed Simon’s lax hand and then turned to Taylor and Derrick. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher. I will wait for you both outside.”

  A wave of something shook Taylor every time someone called her Mrs. Fletcher, and she couldn’t place the feeling. Nerves? Guilt? Impending doom? She really couldn’t say for sure.

  Taylor and Derrick remained rooted in the same spot across the room when Rog went out and latched the door shut.

  “Derrick,” Taylor said. She was looking at him, and he was just looking out the window, but the shade was drawn, so essentially he was looking at nothing. He didn’t respond.

  “Derrick, come on,” she said. She didn’t want to force him or pull him, but she wanted to make sure he heard her and that it was okay for him to move.

  Finally he nodded and walked over to his father’s bedside, his hand glued to Taylor’s. He grabbed a chair and offered it to Taylor. “No, I’m good. You sit,” she said, he looked like he could use it more.

  Derrick let go of her hand, sat, and just looked at his father for a while. “Oh God, Dad,” he said and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, and then he rubbed them down his face. He sat with his arms crossed and resting on his knees for a long time, just looking over Simon. Suddenly Derrick got up with a growl and kicked the chair, sending it flying across the room, crashing into the radiator, and splintering into pieces.

  Guess we will have to replace that, Taylor mused to herself. But she didn’t stop him. She had seen him like this before; it was how he dealt with stuff. When his mother died he had broken every piece of furniture in his room. They had to sit on the mattress on the floor when she went to talk to him.

  Derrick paced back and forth, his fists balled at his sides. He was like a caged tiger, and Taylor was just starting to wonder if she should intervene when he came back to his father’s bedside and just stood. He still looked angry and ready to hit something. Then suddenly he went lax and collapsed, dropping to his knees, his head and chest dropping onto his father’s body, and he started to sob.

  Taylor went and stood behind Derrick and rubbed his back as he let his tears go.

  Derrick lay with his head on the bed now, very still. He had stopped crying about fifteen minutes before, and Taylor was wondering if he had fallen asleep from exhaustion. Taylor tried to stay stoic and strong, but it hadn’t lasted. Eventually she started silently crying behind Derrick.

  She didn’t want to call to him, she wanted him to have his time, but she was partly wondering now if she should give him space.

  She was thinking it through, and she took both of her hands from his back and wiped the tears off her face. When she looked down, Derrick had his head turned to the side on the bed and was looking at her.

  Taylor’s heart broke. He looked so much like the boy she remembered, and she realized how much she had missed him. “Hi,” she said softly and absentmindedly stroked his hair back. He just looked at her; he looked crushed and didn’t reply.

  “Let me take you home,” Taylor said, nodding, and he nodded back slowly. She was going to ask him if he was ready, but she knew that sometimes it was just easier for someone to make decisions for you. He didn’t need to be troubled with thinking right now. “I’m going to go and tell Sara that we are leaving. You wait here.”

  Taylor left the room and told Rog they would be leaving momentarily. Rog immediately texted someone, and Taylor assumed it was to get the ball rolling. Another black-suited man walked with Taylor over to the nurses’ station, and instant quiet came over the desk. Taylor spotted Sara and gave her a little wave.

  “Hi, Sara, Derrick and I will be going. Thank you so much for your help,” she said.

  “Of course,” Sara said, coming around the desk. “I am so sorry for your loss, and we will take great care of Mr. Fletcher. You, uh, or your people, or whatever just have to call the funeral home.”

  Taylor smiled at her uncertainty of phrasing for her and thanked her again. As soon as she turned, whispering started at the desk. It was just something she had to get used to.

  When Taylor got back to Simon’s room, Derrick was in the same position she had left him. Rog and the other suited man followed her in but stayed at the door.

  She made her way over to Derrick. “Let’s get you home,” Taylor said to him, taking his hand.


  Derrick followed along limply. He didn’t speak and didn’t ask any questions, but when he stood, he bent over and kissed his father on the forehead. Taylor also leaned over and gave Simon a kiss on the cheek.

  Rog stopped them when they got to the door. “The press has covered every exit, the only safe way for us to leave is through a service exit, and then we have to walk a little, but that way appears clear.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Rog,” Taylor said, and they exited.

  It was a blur of hallways, stairs, and elevators, but finally they were out in the fresh air. And in the middle of a monsoon. The rain fell heavy, and though they moved as quickly as possible, it was far enough for the group to get soaked before they were ushered into the waiting Range Rover.

  “You okay?” Taylor asked as she climbed in next to Derrick.

  Derrick nodded and then grabbed Taylor’s hand. He kissed it and held it between the two of his. The ride seemed to take forever, but it was probably because she was more saturated than a dish sponge that it felt that way. Once they got to Derrick’s garage, they made it upstairs to the penthouse in record time. Taylor quickly brought Derrick up to his room, and he sat on the edge of the bed as Taylor went through his closet to find him something to change into.

  “Derrick, do you want to take a shower? You must be freezing,” Taylor said to him as she laid the clothes on the bed beside him.

  “No, thank you,” he said softly, staring at the wall opposite him.

  Taylor didn’t want to push him. “Okay, well you change, and I am going to change out of this stuff in the bathroom,” Taylor said. She was getting worried about him. He was so quiet. Taylor wasn’t sure how to get to him. Maybe he just needed some time to himself.

  She went to the bathroom and quickly got rid of her saturated clothes with a big thwap on the floor, and then realized she had nothing but a terry cloth robe. Well, it will have to do for now, she thought and slid it on. The warmth of the fuzzy fibers was like a hug on her cold skin. Taylor combed out her hair, threw it up with an elastic, and went back out to check on Derrick.