By Linda Boulanger (Jar~Conflict~Surprise)
Bile rose up in Grace Cordell’s throat leaving her no choice but to gulp from the bottle of water that had been handed to her when she’d entered the law firm offices. She fought to understand what was happening to her.
“There has to be some mistake.” Her voice, quiet in the somber atmosphere of the attorney’s darkened office squeaked higher with each word, giving away her near-panicked state. Her insides churned, tears stung already hurting sky blue eyes. This little surprise hit her almost as hard as her father’s unexpected death.
Two fingers pressed to the middle of her taut, unwrinkled forehead, Grace looked down. Long, blond waves swept forward to curtain her face, offering little yet some semblance of privacy.
“I’m afraid not, Ms. Cordell. Every aspect of your father’s requests have been checked and reconfirmed. It’s solid, legal, and binding.” The astute man in his mid forties sat back in his high-backed leather seat, removed his glasses to rub his temples. He was silent for a moment before he replaced the glasses, settling them just so on the bridge of his nose, and began to speak again. “If it’s any consolation, I am truly sorry you have to deal with this particular conflict at such a trying time in your young life. Of course, you don’t have to accept the terms.”
Grace’s head snapped up, dual thoughts storming through her already muddled mind. Sorry? He wasn’t sorry. He was the one who had helped her father make all these stupid arrangements. And for her not to accept the terms… what was she to do then? Where was she to go? This man and her father had left her no choice. Her instinct was to fling herself across the desk and claw at his tie-bound throat. But she refrained, more from sheer exhaustion than a need to publicly suppress her anger. Instead she dropped her head into her hands and groaned.
“I don’t understand. Why…"
“He had his reasons, Ms. Cordell. Your father was an intelligent, intuitive man. He worked hard and he had dreams and aspirations for himself and for you. He wanted so much for the both of you, much more than you could ever imagine. I think this was his way of making sure that dream could become reality should anything ever happen to him…”
It was Grace’s turn to interrupt. “I never needed anything besides him!” she screamed into her hands. “I hate him for doing this to me.”
Silence instead of reprimand told her the attorney had seen acts like hers before. She heard the wrapper of the hard candy he’d removed from the jar not too far from where he sat. Her life was falling apart and he was eating candy. Grace supposed being an estate planner, he worked day in and day out telling people what their loved ones had planned out for their lives. He was merely doing his job, sharing the information that had been set in place by her father; information that would change her life. Yes, she understood the attorney had a job to do and emotional involvement played no part in it, but this was different. This was her life, and at eight months shy of her twenty-third birthday her father had died and left her alone to walk through this harebrained idea of his.
She though back to that evening not quite two short weeks before. They’d been working out together at the local gym just like they had every evening since she’d been old enough to go along with him. She was stationed on the treadmill, him pumping a ridiculous amount of weight while jaw jacking with the other men. They were all trying to impress the new female member with the oversized fake boobs.
Grace remembered feeling disgusted at the way they ogled the woman who practically cooed as the men scrambled to help her learn her way around. She’d been particularly jealous when Ms. No-way-gravity-is-ever-gonna-pull-these-babies-down asked her father for help with some of the weight equipment. He’d been every bit as bad as the other men, purposefully placing his hand on the small of her back exposed by the tight-fitting midriff tee as he’d leaned down to move the pen to a lighter setting. As if the woman couldn’t have done that herself!
“It’s that simple, huh?” the woman had thanked her father, her hand to his chest, fingertips massaging the bared area exposed by the loose neckline of his drooping tank.
Grace’s eyes narrowed. Time stilled, breathing became difficult as she watched the two of them seemingly mesmerized by one another until her father chuckled, glanced Grace’s way, and stepped back to let the woman go after it alone.
But Grace noticed his eyes on that shapely figure more than a few times during the remainder of her run. She glared at him when he’d look her way. He just laughed and went back to his weights, adding a bit more than he should have in Grace’s opinion. No doubt he was trying to impress which only added to her annoyance, right up to the point where he’d dropped the weight bar, clutched at his chest, and collapsed; his eyes finding hers right before they’d closed for the last time.
And now, in the sullen atmosphere of the attorney’s office, Grace could no longer hold back the tears. The realization that the last feeling she’d had for the man who’d meant the world to her was displeasure, and he’d know it… she couldn’t take it, couldn’t handle the information the attorney had given her. None of it was what she’d expected. How had things gone so wrong?
She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there sobbing. The man behind the desk had remained seated and silent, though he’d managed to position a box of tissues on the edge of the large desk right before her. Grace was thankful as she lifted her head, grabbing one to wipe her face and dab her eyes. No doubt, she looked a mess. Not that it mattered to anyone.
“How long,” she stopped to clear her squeaking throat. “How long do I have,” she tried again, sounding more like someone awaiting a life sentence or death notice.
The attorney shuffled through some papers on his desk, running a finger down one with great ceremony as if he wasn’t sure and had to consult them for affirmation. Grace rolled her eyes and waited for the boom to drop.
“Three days,” he finally answered. “It says here in the confirmation letter from Mr. Elliot that he’ll be expecting you on the 26th at 3:00 p.m. sharp.”
Three days, his words echoed in Grace’s head. “So, what becomes of our home here? Our stuff?” Should that have been her greatest concern? Her life was being completely altered and she was concerned about material things. Yet that was all she could think to say. Reality was dictating what she would do. It seemed futile to waste the effort to try to change the inevitable. Grace Cordell had never felt so helpless and alone in all her life. And numb. She felt completely and utterly numb, heard little while the man droned on with information about where she was going, what she could expect… everything except the answers she wanted, needed.
“Mr. Elliot says not to worry. He’ll take care of everything and you can discuss it further once you arrive at his estate.” Those were the last words she’d heard before her father’s lawyer had ceremoniously slipped a handful of papers into a large manila envelope, handed it to her, and escorted her to the door with obligatory well wishes and another condolence.
Back outside, Grace chose to walk the few blocks to their upscale home even though the temps were unusually cool for this time of year. February. It could have gone either way, though not normally dipping below the freezing mark. It rather fit the feel of her life right now. Unexpected and numbing. Three days, she thought again. “Why Daddy?” she whispered into the cold air. Leeland Cordell had left everything he had in a trust for his only child. Only he’d locked it up until her twenty-fifth birthday, leaving her two years and eight months to live on a stipend that would do little more than buy her books.
“He wants to assure you’re cared for, Ms.” the lawyer had said.
He may as well have said her dad didn’t think she could take care of herself. Anger flared, followed by a gut punch of reality. Could she take care of herself? She’d never had to. She’d gone from local High School, to the university on the edge of town, to being her father’s personal assistant in a marketing firm he owned with two of his buddies. Grace had never had to live on her own to do any of it. She’d never paid a bill, never shopped alone. Her father had orchestrated everything. And now, even in death, he was running her life, still watching out for her and making sure she was well cared for. At least that’s what the lawyer had said.
But his way of making sure she was cared for was to set up a trustee, a man she’d never met, whose home she’d be required to live within until the trust became hers. No doubt her father expected this man to school her in the one thing he’d failed at – being able to actually live. It was all so ludicrous. And the truth was, Grace was scared.
No two ways about it, Grace had always been awkward around men. Who was she kidding, she was awkward around just about everyone. Shy to a fault, thus far she’d lived her life tucked safely behind her daddy in a world he created for the both of them, one that cocooned his only child created with the woman he loved. When her mother died when she was barely five, he’d estranged the family by refusing to allow his sister to take his only child and raise her. Alone with a man is no place for a young girl to be brought up. You’ll get over Margie, start dating other women – the kind that are nice to your child while you’re dating, but once they get their claws in you... Or worse, bring your guy friends in around a vulnerable young girl. It’s just not right. That girl needs to grow up in a family.
Grace remembered her father’s words as if he spoke them aloud now: I am all she needs. And he was. They had a comfortable life; lived alone for the most part, save for the nights at the gym and the few times his friends had actually come over. Not that any of them had noticed Grace. They all saw her as Leeland Cordell’s little girl and nothing more. And no one would have dared mess with Leeland’s daughter. She had him, and her books. Together, they offered her everything.
But had they? She thought about her dad. Nearing fifty, he’d had the physique of a late twenty year old. After her mom’s death, he’d gone into a fitness phase that never went away. They ate healthy, worked out, lived right. She thought of the woman that night at the gym. Did she do all those things too in order to look the way she did? Grace remembered how the men had panted after her. Would anyone ever look at her that way? A hopeless romantic at heart, she longed to experience the thrill of heat bursting throughout her body at the simple touch of a man like Leeland Cordell. She imagined herself as the woman, one of the fictional characters from the latest novel she was reading placing his hand on the bare skin at her back. Eyes closed, she tried to conjure up the feelings. But she couldn’t. Lack of experience always left her feeling short changed when she played out these little scenarios in her mind. She wiped the thought away along with an unwanted tear. Three days. What was she going to do with herself while she waited?
Back inside the apartment she’d shared with her dad, Grace slumped onto the leather mahogany couch and looked around. Her face fell. This place was so him that it hurt just being there. Maybe he was right. She needed to get out. Surely he’d known she never would have if it had been left to her. He’d always know and done what was best for her. She simply had to trust him on this. What other choice did she have?
Grace wallowed in self-pity for the next hour, wondering where she should begin before the envelope from the attorney caught her eye. She sat up and leaned toward the glass top table, opening it with slow, calculated movements. It wasn’t like it was going to bite her, even though she acted like it was. Still, that envelope held the keys to her life for the next few years. Its contents could, and most assuredly would change the course of who she was.
With trembling fingers, she dumped the contents onto the table and shifted through the papers. Something caught her eye. A lavender colored envelope with her name clearly handwritten on the front. She recognized the envelope as one that had been a part of a stationery set she’d received as a birthday gift. She also knew that scrawl across the front. It belonged to her father.
Fresh tears filled her eyes. She picked it up, brought it close to her nose. It smelled like him, just as she’d known it would, and for a moment she felt the warmth of his love surrounding her. “I miss you, Daddy,” she whispered to the envelope, wanting to add that she wished he was there with her. That was a reality that needed no words. Grace sighed, remained motionless.
Open it, a small, inner voice urged when she continued to stare at the envelope. Find out what kind of secrets it holds. The thought startled Grace, causing her to jump and the envelope floated from her fingers, gliding to the floor on the other side of the table. When she bent to retrieve it, she noticed something – a prescription bottle just under the edge of the sofa. Her hand trembled as she picked it up. Digoxin: Take one tablet daily for arrhythmias. The prescription date was almost eight months ago, right after her birthday and it held her father’s name.
That’s when she knew. Leeland Cordell had known he had a problem, that he was ill. That’s the thought that ran through her mind as she tore into the purple envelope desperately needing to see if it did indeed hold more secrets inside.
Bile rose up in Grace Cordell’s throat leaving her no choice but to gulp from the bottle of water that had been handed to her when she’d entered the law firm offices. She fought to understand what was happening to her.
“There has to be some mistake.” Her voice, quiet in the somber atmosphere of the attorney’s darkened office squeaked higher with each word, giving away her near-panicked state. Her insides churned, tears stung already hurting sky blue eyes. This little surprise hit her almost as hard as her father’s unexpected death.
Two fingers pressed to the middle of her taut, unwrinkled forehead, Grace looked down. Long, blond waves swept forward to curtain her face, offering little yet some semblance of privacy.
“I’m afraid not, Ms. Cordell. Every aspect of your father’s requests have been checked and reconfirmed. It’s solid, legal, and binding.” The astute man in his mid forties sat back in his high-backed leather seat, removed his glasses to rub his temples. He was silent for a moment before he replaced the glasses, settling them just so on the bridge of his nose, and began to speak again. “If it’s any consolation, I am truly sorry you have to deal with this particular conflict at such a trying time in your young life. Of course, you don’t have to accept the terms.”
Grace’s head snapped up, dual thoughts storming through her already muddled mind. Sorry? He wasn’t sorry. He was the one who had helped her father make all these stupid arrangements. And for her not to accept the terms… what was she to do then? Where was she to go? This man and her father had left her no choice. Her instinct was to fling herself across the desk and claw at his tie-bound throat. But she refrained, more from sheer exhaustion than a need to publicly suppress her anger. Instead she dropped her head into her hands and groaned.
“I don’t understand. Why…"
“He had his reasons, Ms. Cordell. Your father was an intelligent, intuitive man. He worked hard and he had dreams and aspirations for himself and for you. He wanted so much for the both of you, much more than you could ever imagine. I think this was his way of making sure that dream could become reality should anything ever happen to him…”
It was Grace’s turn to interrupt. “I never needed anything besides him!” she screamed into her hands. “I hate him for doing this to me.”
Silence instead of reprimand told her the attorney had seen acts like hers before. She heard the wrapper of the hard candy he’d removed from the jar not too far from where he sat. Her life was falling apart and he was eating candy. Grace supposed being an estate planner, he worked day in and day out telling people what their loved ones had planned out for their lives. He was merely doing his job, sharing the information that had been set in place by her father; information that would change her life. Yes, she understood the attorney had a job to do and emotional involvement played no part in it, but this was different. This was her life, and at eight months shy of her twenty-third birthday her father had died and left her alone to walk through this harebrained idea of his.
She though back to that evening not quite two short weeks before. They’d been working out together at the local gym just like they had every evening since she’d been old enough to go along with him. She was stationed on the treadmill, him pumping a ridiculous amount of weight while jaw jacking with the other men. They were all trying to impress the new female member with the oversized fake boobs.
Grace remembered feeling disgusted at the way they ogled the woman who practically cooed as the men scrambled to help her learn her way around. She’d been particularly jealous when Ms. No-way-gravity-is-ever-gonna-pull-these-babies-down asked her father for help with some of the weight equipment. He’d been every bit as bad as the other men, purposefully placing his hand on the small of her back exposed by the tight-fitting midriff tee as he’d leaned down to move the pen to a lighter setting. As if the woman couldn’t have done that herself!
“It’s that simple, huh?” the woman had thanked her father, her hand to his chest, fingertips massaging the bared area exposed by the loose neckline of his drooping tank.
Grace’s eyes narrowed. Time stilled, breathing became difficult as she watched the two of them seemingly mesmerized by one another until her father chuckled, glanced Grace’s way, and stepped back to let the woman go after it alone.
But Grace noticed his eyes on that shapely figure more than a few times during the remainder of her run. She glared at him when he’d look her way. He just laughed and went back to his weights, adding a bit more than he should have in Grace’s opinion. No doubt he was trying to impress which only added to her annoyance, right up to the point where he’d dropped the weight bar, clutched at his chest, and collapsed; his eyes finding hers right before they’d closed for the last time.
And now, in the sullen atmosphere of the attorney’s office, Grace could no longer hold back the tears. The realization that the last feeling she’d had for the man who’d meant the world to her was displeasure, and he’d know it… she couldn’t take it, couldn’t handle the information the attorney had given her. None of it was what she’d expected. How had things gone so wrong?
She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there sobbing. The man behind the desk had remained seated and silent, though he’d managed to position a box of tissues on the edge of the large desk right before her. Grace was thankful as she lifted her head, grabbing one to wipe her face and dab her eyes. No doubt, she looked a mess. Not that it mattered to anyone.
“How long,” she stopped to clear her squeaking throat. “How long do I have,” she tried again, sounding more like someone awaiting a life sentence or death notice.
The attorney shuffled through some papers on his desk, running a finger down one with great ceremony as if he wasn’t sure and had to consult them for affirmation. Grace rolled her eyes and waited for the boom to drop.
“Three days,” he finally answered. “It says here in the confirmation letter from Mr. Elliot that he’ll be expecting you on the 26th at 3:00 p.m. sharp.”
Three days, his words echoed in Grace’s head. “So, what becomes of our home here? Our stuff?” Should that have been her greatest concern? Her life was being completely altered and she was concerned about material things. Yet that was all she could think to say. Reality was dictating what she would do. It seemed futile to waste the effort to try to change the inevitable. Grace Cordell had never felt so helpless and alone in all her life. And numb. She felt completely and utterly numb, heard little while the man droned on with information about where she was going, what she could expect… everything except the answers she wanted, needed.
“Mr. Elliot says not to worry. He’ll take care of everything and you can discuss it further once you arrive at his estate.” Those were the last words she’d heard before her father’s lawyer had ceremoniously slipped a handful of papers into a large manila envelope, handed it to her, and escorted her to the door with obligatory well wishes and another condolence.
Back outside, Grace chose to walk the few blocks to their upscale home even though the temps were unusually cool for this time of year. February. It could have gone either way, though not normally dipping below the freezing mark. It rather fit the feel of her life right now. Unexpected and numbing. Three days, she thought again. “Why Daddy?” she whispered into the cold air. Leeland Cordell had left everything he had in a trust for his only child. Only he’d locked it up until her twenty-fifth birthday, leaving her two years and eight months to live on a stipend that would do little more than buy her books.
“He wants to assure you’re cared for, Ms.” the lawyer had said.
He may as well have said her dad didn’t think she could take care of herself. Anger flared, followed by a gut punch of reality. Could she take care of herself? She’d never had to. She’d gone from local High School, to the university on the edge of town, to being her father’s personal assistant in a marketing firm he owned with two of his buddies. Grace had never had to live on her own to do any of it. She’d never paid a bill, never shopped alone. Her father had orchestrated everything. And now, even in death, he was running her life, still watching out for her and making sure she was well cared for. At least that’s what the lawyer had said.
But his way of making sure she was cared for was to set up a trustee, a man she’d never met, whose home she’d be required to live within until the trust became hers. No doubt her father expected this man to school her in the one thing he’d failed at – being able to actually live. It was all so ludicrous. And the truth was, Grace was scared.
No two ways about it, Grace had always been awkward around men. Who was she kidding, she was awkward around just about everyone. Shy to a fault, thus far she’d lived her life tucked safely behind her daddy in a world he created for the both of them, one that cocooned his only child created with the woman he loved. When her mother died when she was barely five, he’d estranged the family by refusing to allow his sister to take his only child and raise her. Alone with a man is no place for a young girl to be brought up. You’ll get over Margie, start dating other women – the kind that are nice to your child while you’re dating, but once they get their claws in you... Or worse, bring your guy friends in around a vulnerable young girl. It’s just not right. That girl needs to grow up in a family.
Grace remembered her father’s words as if he spoke them aloud now: I am all she needs. And he was. They had a comfortable life; lived alone for the most part, save for the nights at the gym and the few times his friends had actually come over. Not that any of them had noticed Grace. They all saw her as Leeland Cordell’s little girl and nothing more. And no one would have dared mess with Leeland’s daughter. She had him, and her books. Together, they offered her everything.
But had they? She thought about her dad. Nearing fifty, he’d had the physique of a late twenty year old. After her mom’s death, he’d gone into a fitness phase that never went away. They ate healthy, worked out, lived right. She thought of the woman that night at the gym. Did she do all those things too in order to look the way she did? Grace remembered how the men had panted after her. Would anyone ever look at her that way? A hopeless romantic at heart, she longed to experience the thrill of heat bursting throughout her body at the simple touch of a man like Leeland Cordell. She imagined herself as the woman, one of the fictional characters from the latest novel she was reading placing his hand on the bare skin at her back. Eyes closed, she tried to conjure up the feelings. But she couldn’t. Lack of experience always left her feeling short changed when she played out these little scenarios in her mind. She wiped the thought away along with an unwanted tear. Three days. What was she going to do with herself while she waited?
Back inside the apartment she’d shared with her dad, Grace slumped onto the leather mahogany couch and looked around. Her face fell. This place was so him that it hurt just being there. Maybe he was right. She needed to get out. Surely he’d known she never would have if it had been left to her. He’d always know and done what was best for her. She simply had to trust him on this. What other choice did she have?
Grace wallowed in self-pity for the next hour, wondering where she should begin before the envelope from the attorney caught her eye. She sat up and leaned toward the glass top table, opening it with slow, calculated movements. It wasn’t like it was going to bite her, even though she acted like it was. Still, that envelope held the keys to her life for the next few years. Its contents could, and most assuredly would change the course of who she was.
With trembling fingers, she dumped the contents onto the table and shifted through the papers. Something caught her eye. A lavender colored envelope with her name clearly handwritten on the front. She recognized the envelope as one that had been a part of a stationery set she’d received as a birthday gift. She also knew that scrawl across the front. It belonged to her father.
Fresh tears filled her eyes. She picked it up, brought it close to her nose. It smelled like him, just as she’d known it would, and for a moment she felt the warmth of his love surrounding her. “I miss you, Daddy,” she whispered to the envelope, wanting to add that she wished he was there with her. That was a reality that needed no words. Grace sighed, remained motionless.
Open it, a small, inner voice urged when she continued to stare at the envelope. Find out what kind of secrets it holds. The thought startled Grace, causing her to jump and the envelope floated from her fingers, gliding to the floor on the other side of the table. When she bent to retrieve it, she noticed something – a prescription bottle just under the edge of the sofa. Her hand trembled as she picked it up. Digoxin: Take one tablet daily for arrhythmias. The prescription date was almost eight months ago, right after her birthday and it held her father’s name.
That’s when she knew. Leeland Cordell had known he had a problem, that he was ill. That’s the thought that ran through her mind as she tore into the purple envelope desperately needing to see if it did indeed hold more secrets inside.