Don’t leave. I do like the idea. Except for the company I’m supposed to be taking over. The parents who are counting on me.
I walk out onto the deck and squint in the early morning sunlight. Alma unwinds the table umbrella, and we sit down.
“I have cream and sugar here on the table if you need it,” she says.
“Thanks, but I actually drink it black.” Her eyes get wide. “What?”
“Nothin’,” she says, “it’s just that May took it black, too.” I take a big gulp of the scalding coffee and nod. “So, where should we start?”
I smile.
“I was hoping you could tell me.” She smiles back and leans back in her chair.
“Well, why don’t we start by you telling me what you remember about your Gran May and your sister.”
I swallow and nod. It’s been a long time since anyone wanted me to remember May or the baby. It’s been a long time since I’ve been allowed to talk about either.
“Okay, sure. Um, when I was five, my mom was pregnant. I remember going to the hospital the morning the baby was born. I was in the waiting room with Gran May for a while. I remember she gave me this little music box that had a baby on it.” I smile, and my heart wrenches. “I remember my dad finally came out from the back, and then he left the hospital. And then all I remember is I never met the baby, and Gran May died––or, I guess, didn’t die?––shortly after. I never saw either of them again after that day in the hospital.”
Alma nods.
“And what did your parents say?”
“Um, well, I remember a little while later, my mom told me that my baby sister died in the hospital that day. And she told me that Gran May died, too, of a broken heart.”
Alma’s lip trembles a bit, and she catches it with her hand.
“I’m sorry, Alma,” I say. “I don’t mean to speak so candidly about her dying. I know she just passed and this is a lot for you.”
She smiles a pained smile and covers my hand with hers.
“No, baby, don’t you apologize. These are more tears of anger than anything else, I’m afraid,” she says. I swallow. “So, your mama was pregnant. She did have a baby. But that baby did not die, and neither did your Gran May. I’m sure you noticed the other day that Haven is a bit, uh, on the darker side?”
I pause.
Haven.
“Is that her name? Haven?” I ask. Alma nods slowly.
“Yes, honey. May said she looked at her that day they moved up here, and she knew she was safe.”
I swallow the lump that’s growing in my throat.
“I love that name,” I whisper. “And yes, I had noticed she was a little darker than I am.”
“A little,” Alma says, eyeing my fair skin and winking. “As you might have guessed, your mama was pregnant, but your father was not the father. Haven’s dad was black.”
My head spins a little.
I knew it had to be an affair. There’s not a Caucasian person in the world that could produce the beautiful brown skin tone or those gorgeous textured curls that made me envious the moment I laid eyes on her. But my mother? My quiet, complacent, “yes sir,” mother?
“Who was it?” I ask. Alma shrugs.
“None of us know to this day,” she says. “Just one more thing your mama took from her.” My eyes grow wide, and so do Alma’s. “I’m sorry, honey. I promised myself I wouldn’t go harpin’ on your mama. But I just––”
“No, it’s okay. So, what happened?”
“Well, your dad was in the room, and after they got the baby all cleaned up, it was pretty obvious she wasn’t, uh, his. Some biracial children are born fair and get darker as they age. But with Haven, she was beautifully brown the day she was born.”
I nod.
“Your dad put it together before your mother was even out of the delivery room. Gave her an ultimatum.”
Oh, God.
“An ultimatum?”
“Yes. Her option was to give the baby up or give him up. I guess you can see which your mama picked.”
I feel nauseous.
“So, May…”
“When your father stormed out that day, May went back in to see your mom. She thought something had happened, only to find your mama filling out some paperwork to relinquish guardianship rights. She stopped her mid-sign and told her that she was taking the baby.”
Oh, God. It’s all coming together.
“So, how did they end up here?”
“Well, your mother refused to sign over guardianship unless May agreed to leave Georgia and cut off all ties. Your parents conjured up a story about their deaths and told everyone she wanted to be buried up here in Meade Lake where her uncle had lived.”
“Her uncle?”
“Yeah. May’s uncle was in oil way back when. The house she and Haven lived in here was his. He didn’t have children and left it to her when he died.”
I nod, trying to follow along.
“After the court hearings for final guardianship rights, May took Haven and left. And your parents took you and moved a few hours away to Lenburn shortly after. I suspect it was too big of a lie for them to uphold around the people that knew them.”
I lay my head back against the chair, staring up at the puffy clouds that are dancing across the bluest sky I’ve ever seen.
“So, all that brings us to you,” Alma goes on. I snap my head back.
“Me?” She nods.
“Part of the agreement was that May was permitted to reach out to you when you turned eighteen. And she did try.”
I cock my head.
“She did?”
“Yes,” Alma says, her eyes dropping to the ground. “It seems as though those attempts were, um, intercepted, baby. When Derrick came to find you, he thought you’d been ignoring her letters. Angry, maybe, that she abandoned you.” I pause. Am I angry that she abandoned me? “He knew it was a shot in the dark, and even though a few of us were apprehensive, he wanted to do it for May.”
I swallow.
“Apprehensive?” I ask.
“Yeah, honey. That brings me to the next piece of this puzzle that is your life.” She walks into the house for a moment and then walks back out with a manila envelope tucked under her arm. “This here is May’s will. May’s lawyer, Jeffrey, is on his way to walk you through it.”
Like clockwork, the house fills with a sing-song voice calling out Alma’s name.
“We’re out here, Jeff!” she calls. He follows her voice to the sliding glass doors and makes his way onto the deck.
He’s tall and slim and slender, wearing a perfectly tailored suit despite the warm summer
weather. His square jaw is clean-shaven, and his hair is combed and styled perfectly on top of his head.
“Oh, my God,” he says, staring me up and down. He walks toward me and takes my hands, pulling me up from the chair. He spins me around then takes my face in his hands before pulling me into his chest. I choke on his cologne as he slowly lets me go.
“You are her spitting image,” he whispers, covering his mouth with his hands. I smile.
“So I’ve been told,” I say. “I’m Kaylee.”
“Jeffrey Tate,” he says. “I’ve been May’s attorney for twenty years. It is damn good to finally meet you, Kaylee.”
Jeff turns to Alma as he takes a seat at the table with us.
“Paul is going to die when he sees her,” he says. Then he turns back to me. “My husband and May were close. And he’s just going to fall apart when he sees you. It’s like she’s still here.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat and force a smile.
I’m not May. I can’t be her for them.
Alma slides the envelope over to me and clears her throat.
“I was just getting to the part of the story about why a few of us had some, uh, concerns about Kaylee coming up here.” Jeff’s eyes widen as he opens the folder.
“Oh, yes. Cue Jeffrey,” he says.
7
Jeffrey reaches
into his briefcase and pulls out a stack of papers. On the front cover, it reads: WILL AND TESTAMENT OF MAY DEAN.
I swallow.
“That’s your copy. You can follow along with me,” he says, turning the page. I do the same.
My eyes scan the paper in front of me, top to bottom, left to right. So many big words that they bleed together in front of my eyes.
“So, basically, a lot of this is a bunch of gobble-de-gook,” Jeffrey says. “Let me get to the point: your Gran May was loaded.”
My eyes grow wide.
“Loaded?”
He nods.
“Loaded. Turns out her uncle still had a not-so-small fortune from his years in oil. He left the house to May, but he also left her every penny he had––which was an insane amount, if I’m not being too frank. Her will indicates that the money and house be split between her two beneficiaries: Haven Dean and you.”
I blink wildly. I look from Jeffrey, to the paper where he’s pointing to my name, to Alma, back to the paper.
“Me?” Jeffrey nods slowly. “But she didn’t even know me.”
Alma clears her throat.
“When your Gran May got her diagnosis, she sat us all down and walked us through her plans. She told us that she left you once, but she wouldn’t leave you again.”
I feel this lump rising in my throat. A strange mix of anxiety, excitement, and confusion swirl in my stomach, making me nauseous.
“This is the estimated asset amount,” Jeffrey says, flipping to the next page. “Some of her investments are still being compiled and calculated, but this is pretty close.”
My eyes bug out of my head when I see the number.
“This is what will be split between you and your sister,” Alma clarifies. I look back at the thick black ink—so many numbers trailed by so many zeros.
“So...is that why you all were a little hesitant to bring me up here? If I hadn’t come, would she...would Haven have gotten all of it?” I ask.
Alma looks to Jeffrey, who looks back to me. He shakes his head.
“No. Haven would only get half of the money regardless of if you ever came up here to claim yours.” I cock my head, confused. “Your Gran May was a bit of a businesswoman here in Meade Lake. When the recession hit, a lot of the businesses around here took major hits. A lot of them closed their doors forever. Some held on by a thread. May recognized that the entire economy of the town was in jeopardy, so she began a sort of investment program.”
“An investment program?”
He nods.
“She began working with the small business owners. She gave them small loans to get them back up and running, and it worked. I guess ‘investment’ isn’t the right word; she only took back what she put in but left all the remaining profit to the businesses themselves.”
“She singlehandedly saved this town from being swallowed up whole,” Alma says. “When the recession hit, people stopped coming on vacations for a while. Everything was stagnant. When the town started moving again with the help of May, and once the recession was over, she started helping out new business owners who wanted a shot.”
“That’s...that’s amazing,” I say, feeling the emotion threatening to manifest itself as tears again. “But what does that have to do with me coming here?”
“Well, when May tried to contact you and failed, she had a stipulation added to the will regarding your portion of the inheritance.” Jeff turns a few pages in the document and does the same on my copy. He taps his finger on another bunch of really big words. “What this says is that if you didn’t come up here to claim your half by the time Haven graduated from college, two years from now, you would forfeit your right to your half. That money would then go into a fund that would be dispersed to local businesses.”
“So, if I hadn’t come…”
“If you hadn’t come, the money would be sitting for the next three years but would be guaranteed to be funneled back into the local economy.”
“So, what’s happening to those businesses right now?” I ask.
“May set aside enough money for the ones she’s actively lending money to to get them through the next fiscal year,” Jeffrey says. “She set up the fund so that you and Haven could easily continue her ‘program,’ but it’s not a requirement of finalizing the inheritance.”
It makes sense now why Haven wouldn’t have wanted me to come.
They thought I was ignoring May’s attempts at contacting me. And now, here I am, showing up to steal her money and leave the town out to dry.
“Now, if you determine that you’d like to continue lending money to these businesses, there’s a complete ledger in this file that will show you who she is lending money to, how much, and how much of the original loan has been paid back. You’ll see that some haven’t begun the repayment process; May was quite generous and didn’t really have a timeline requirement for when she wanted the money back,” Jeffrey says.
My head is spinning. Last week, I cleaned out my closet and threw away an old container of green lasagna that was rotting in the back of my fridge. And I thought that was a productive week.
This week, I’ve discovered not one, but two not-dead relatives, found out I’m a millionaire, and basically am the key to the success of the storybook little town I’ve landed in.
“We know this is a lot, honey,” Alma says.
“Absolutely. You don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Jeffrey says. “There’s just one more thing to go over.”
He reaches into the front pocket of his briefcase and pulls out a set of keys. He slides them across the table to me.
“That fob there is to May’s Explorer. Haven has her own car, so the Explorer is yours if you want it,” he says. “And the silver one is to the house. Your house. Well, yours and Haven’s.”
I swallow.
“Haven is going to stay with me for a few days,” Alma says, “so we can take you to the house if you want to see it.”
“I hope she doesn’t feel like she has to get out,” I say.
“Oh, don’t worry, she doesn’t,” a cool voice says from the door, and it makes me jump. Her curls sit nestled around her face, and I’m instantly envious of the beauty she exudes. She doesn’t appear to have a drop of make-up on, but she doesn’t have a blemish or spot on her skin. Her eyes are piercing in the sunlight, and her brown skin glows under her flowy tank top.
“Haven,” Alma says.
“Hey, Haven,” Jeffrey greets her, his cheerful demeanor fading a bit.
I’ve now officially seen her only twice. But I’ve already come to one conclusion: Haven commands eyes. Her body language and the ferocity she carries with her demand attention. She’s bold and on a mission. And if getting rid of me weren’t that mission, I think I’d actually really want to get to know her.
“We were just finishing up,” Alma says. Jeffrey takes her cue and closes his files.
“Well, Kaylee, you have a copy of everything there in that file. Take a look through it, and here’s my card if you have any questions about anything.” He bends across the table to kiss Alma’s cheek. “I’ll see you ladies at the funeral.”
I nod and stand.
“Thank you, Jeffrey. It was really nice to meet you,” I say. He gives my hand a squeeze then ducks back through the door.
My eyes drift from the door to Alma then to Haven. She’s staring at me, her eyes narrowed.
“Jeffrey fill you in? Don’t have to even be a part of the family or the town and get to walk outta here with millions,” she says, leaning up against the deck railing.
“Haven,” Alma cautions.
“I didn’t come here to take anything from anyone,” I tell her. “I didn’t even know there was money.”
Haven scoffs and crosses her arms.
“But I bet you’re thinking about leaving with it, huh?” she asks. I swallow. Because truthfully, I don’t even know what I’m doing. I just found out an hour ago that I am a very, very wealthy woman.
I ju
st found out a half-hour ago that part of that wealth has been put into programs to help out small businesses and improve the lives of hundreds of people.
I feel this burning sense of pride and awe over May. Programs like these are ones I’d researched in my sociology courses in college and had recommended to my dad to implement at Jennings Technology. Not shockingly, nothing had ever come of them. My dad has tunnel vision, and the only thing he sees is a dollar sign.
“Cut her some slack, Hay,” I hear Derrick say as he walks around from the front of the house. He climbs the deck steps and stands next to me. “You’ve known about her your whole life. She just found out about you and all of this,” he says, motioning to the file, “this week.”
Haven narrows her eyes on Derrick.
“Yeah? And she wouldn’t have known about it at all if you hadn’t gone down there.”
“You know it’s what May would have wanted,” Derrick says, and Haven’s eyes widen. There’s a long, tense silence, and then I push my chair out to stand.
“I think I’m gonna…” My voice trails off because I don’t really know what I’m going to do. I guess I could go back to my room at the B&B and figure out some things there.
“I was actually coming by to see if you wanted that tour of Meade Lake,” Derrick says. He looks up at Alma. “Assuming you’re all done here?”
Alma nods.
“I think that’s enough of a knowledge dump for the day,” she chuckles, rubbing my arm.
“Thank you, Alma, for filling me in on everything,” I tell her. I turn to Derrick. “That tour sounds great.”
8
He opens the truck door for me every time I get in with him, and each time, it makes my heart skip a beat or two.
“Looks like I got there at just the right time,” he says with a laugh as he pulls on his seatbelt. I blow out a big puff of air that makes my hair fly up.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I say, running my hands over my face as we pull out onto the road.
“You don’t have to say anything at all,” he says, his voice warm. “You just got two decades worth of family secrets dumped on you. You’re good for a while, girl. Just soak it all in.”
Stones Unturned (Meade Lake Series Book 2) Page 5
