by Ginny Lynn
“Again, ma’am, I can speak only of my professional dealings and not on a personal level,” Mr. White said as he stared at his folded hands.
“Can’t or won’t?” I asked.
“Both. I must not so I cannot. My apologies but I have sworn some things to secrecy and must uphold my honor, even if it leads you to think ill of me.”
“Mr. White, it’s not just you that I question. With what has been shown me so far, I’m wondering if it’s more drama than it’s worth. I should just say goodbye to all of this and simply walk away.”
“But you can’t. Can you?” interrupted Kenrick from his quiet corner.
We both turned our heads to the man who had spoken.
“Yes, I can go anytime I want to,” I retorted.
“Where would you go?” he asked quietly.
“That’s my business, isn’t it?”
“Then why is my reason for being here any of yours?”
“A bit of that may be true but your being here affects my decision and my life.”
“Just as your decision will affect what will happen to me.”
Touché, even if I didn’t like it.
“Mr. Giles makes a valid point. As of our last phone conversation, you had lost your job and were on the same path with your housing as no money would be coming your way. Did something change that I’m not aware of?” asked Mr. White.
“Um, no. But it is my problem to solve.”
“Yes, it is but what’s being handed to you will affect more than one person.”
“How so?”
“If you leave now, then the money is forfeit, as is the entirety of the estate. The proceeds will all be turned over to Mr. Kenrick Giles as the sole inheritor. You walk away with what you came with, nothing.”
Chapter Five
“That was rude and uncalled for!” I stated in disgust.
“My apologies but this was getting off topic from what needs to be discussed at this time.” Mr. White nervously looked at his watch, again.
“Are you sure you don’t have plans for this evening?” I questioned.
“No, Ms. Renata, but I do need to be going soon.”
I had the sense he was looking for any reason to get out of here, quickly. What was going on that had him losing his professional attitude?
Then I heard thunder rumble in the distance, beyond the window in front of Kenrick. He still had his back to us and I couldn’t see his reflection for the froth of curtains that covered a portion of the framed glass. Why did I suddenly need to see his eyes? No clue.
“Mr. White, do I have this correct that I am to accept the terms of the will as they stand or leave and forfeit all rights to anything in the estate, even my grandmother’s things?”
“You understand correctly.”
I saw Mr. White look over his left shoulder to where Kenrick stood quietly. Was he waiting on a sign from him before giving anything away? Seriously? And why was Kenrick so calmly stoic in the middle of me questioning his presence here? I would have been offended. Maybe he knew I wanted him to spill some kind of information. If he did then he knew this game well.
“Fine, I want the time to read over things, which means I agree to stay overnight and will meet the stipulation of being paid the five thousand dollars, correct? Does that mean that I can actually have a key to this place or will that have to wait until I say whether I’ll agree to the terms of the will as a whole?”
“Yes, Ms. Renata. The key would come once the terms are settled. If you chose to walk away after staying for forty-eight hours, then you get the money mentioned to you and nothing more. You will leave this place to Mr. Giles and the estate will go on as it did before you arrived,” he said it with a sudden flick of nervous eyes at Kenrick.
“If everything is agreeable for the night, then may I walk you out, Mr. White?”
“Yes, please,” Mr. White said as he quickly grabbed up his briefcase of papers and began to leave the room.
“What is the hurry, gentlemen?”
“If you must know, Mr. White dislikes storms. Do you, sir?” Kenrick asked the man heading to the door of the library.
Mr. White barely turned to face me as he walked over the threshold and into the hallway. “No, Mr. Giles. I do not and it’s slightly embarrassing to admit it. Good night, Ms. Renata.”
Then I was left in the room, alone. So I had made him admit something scared him? We all hid something away from the face of fear and this house seemed to yank it out of all of us.
I reread the passage about Kenrick Giles being part of the estate as if he was a fixture of the building. I knew there was something not being told to me but they weren’t in a sharing mood. I’d just have to stay here and try to figure things out. Did I want to be here and make this estate my new home or run away with my stipend and find a hovel to rebuild myself? It was too much information for me to take. If I took the estate then I would have to deal with Mr. Kenrick Giles on a never-ending basis. Could I find a peaceful compromise between the two of us? I couldn’t answer that right now. What parts of this could I break down tonight?
There were a few options open to me. Do the things I’d only dreamed of by staying and accepting the offer with a blind eye to the nagging little ideas in my head. See if something had happened for my family to have accepted Kenrick into the household, like a dark tragedy. Three, the longer that Mr. White had been here, the jumpier he had gotten, and I knew something was behind it. Was he scared of the house, to be around Kenrick, or could it be as simple as an older man’s phobia? Four, no, I didn’t have anywhere to go. That in itself was a touchy subject for me. I had been independent for years but now I had to live off of people who were practically strangers to me.
Having already received my severance letter with my last check, I was filled with possibilities and anxiety over the chance to recreate my life in the last home my grandmother had lived in.
Fighting the tears that burned in my eyes, I rebuked myself again for life issues keeping me away from the one person who had accepted me for what I was—a troubled woman who feared the prolonged touch of anything. I was thrown into visions that took over during any emotional weakness or moments of exhaustion. I had been in the presence of my grandmother when I’d had one that had knocked me out cold, and she had held me as I’d seen the inner story of her losing my biological grandfather. Experiencing it had been rough on both of us, but she had helped me come to terms with my curse and taught me the first lessons on how to keep it at bay. Without that honest southern dame, I would have stayed in the psychiatric ward where my parents had temporarily put me after they had overheard me telling my grandmother about a particular troubling vision I experienced while at school. That had been the worst two weeks of my existence, and now I was facing a life where no one would, or could, love me as the freak I was.
Then a realization slammed into me, I hadn’t gotten Mr. White’s cell phone number. Tossing down the stack of papers and running for the front stairs, I heard no voices. Maybe they were out by his car. I ran through the front door like the lightning that struck in the clouds above me. Fast and with a heart-thumping purpose. The car was gone. How had he gotten out of here so quickly? I hadn’t even heard his old sedan turn down the gravel drive. Then I glimpsed the taillights as they blinked at me through the dense set of trees which flanked the driveway. He was already turning onto the main road, leaving me with no way to communicate with him this weekend. I’d have to ask Kenrick for the attorney’s cell phone number but I doubted he’d be so generous after I questioned his presence at the estate.
I traipsed back in with a pout as it dawned on me how ridiculous this all was. A majority of this was my fault, but it would be easier for me to swallow if I could take it out on someone else, childish or not. It would be karma for me to have to serve humble pie tomorrow afternoon.
I dove into the house when a voice came from the dark behind me.
“If you were looking to stop him, it’s too late.”
Mentally, I just added large bells onto the collar needed on his strong neck, before I strangled it. What humble pie?
“I simply wanted his cell phone number so I could contact him with any further questions I might have over the next twenty-four hours.”
“Like what else you can get from staying here or maybe you wanted to sneak a peek at personal items that are none of your business?”
“I’m not the money hound here, sir,” I said as indignantly as possible.
“So, you think I did something dastardly to be here. Is my assumption correct?”
“What else am I to think when you won’t state how you came to be here in the first place? You had to have done something remarkable to be the next heir to all of this when you were only in the picture the past couple of years.”
“If you walk away, remember?”
“Either way, you stand to gain from this whereas I’m not so lucky.”
“You can take the money offered for the forty-eight-hour marker and run away to start another life for yourself. Take it while you have the chance. The only thing here for you is an estate of ageless pain and stale blood. What would a beautiful woman want with it?”
Was I more stunned by his use of words or the compliment he’d just issued with the cryptic comment?
“What is so terrible that neither of you will talk about it? I already know both Fenmores died on the property so it’s not that. It’s something about how you came to be here and I know it’s a detail that will affect my life if I stay on. I can’t explain it but I have to be told the truth.” I was gesturing in the air as if conjuring the right words by magic.
“An estate of this age has more than one secret.”
“And apparently, so do the people involved with it. Look, if you aren’t going to help me then just go away and leave me alone.”
“I did help you. I just told you to take the money and run. That’s all that needs to be said. Unless you’re looking for action, which I can provide in spades.”
Floundering with the endless comebacks, I just stared at him like a dead fish. And with that, he turned his back on me and headed toward the rear of the grounds with his hands stuffed in his pants pockets.
He had to have serious mental problems. Coming from me, that was saying something. Was he some dude hiding from the law or possibly post-traumatic stress syndrome I was witnessing? Was this his refuge from society? Did he want me gone badly enough to try scaring me away from all of this? Were the pick-up lines meant to make me feel uncomfortable having him around? Couldn’t my life be simple? All I’ve ever wanted was a place of my own and enough money to stay out of debt permanently. There were no plans for a fancy new car, a whole different wardrobe, or a man who would pamper me from head to toe. I was just looking for a satisfyingly simple life that kept me from the fears which had already put me in a singular spotlight of despair.
I saw the small candlestick Mr. White had taken down with him as he’d made his hasty departure and thankfully it was still lit. It had melted down to half of what it had been when we had started the visit, which made me feel even more confused at how quickly scenarios kept turning. Carefully picking up the candle, I made my way back to the second-floor library where the papers were waiting for me. As I placed the glowing stick on the desk, I felt the breeze from the half-opened window. When had it been opened? Kenrick must have come up a back way and opened it just to freak me out. I went to close it but the soft rumbling outside was a strange comfort, so I left it as it was. If it started raining onto the fluffy rug, then I’d close it for the night.
My candle was still by the chair, as I’d left it there in my haste to run to the door. If it hadn’t been for the one left downstairs then I probably would’ve missed a step and hurt myself. I hadn’t even thought about it until seated safely back upstairs. People did uncharacteristic things when driven by adrenaline.
I read over the papers again, this time reading all of the legal items that were only to be translated by the attorney who had run out of here. I grabbed a pen and a scratch pad out of the top middle desk drawer to make a list of things to ask the attorney. I was tempted to write “who is Mr. Kenrick?” on every other line but stopped myself. He already knew I wanted an answer along that line and I despised how drawn I was to a man who could mean nothing but trouble for me.
When I started the second page of questions, lightning spread through the room and took the last of the light with it as it left in a stiff wind. I was in a darkness that was touchable. I sat for a panic-stricken moment as my eyes adjusted to the instant lack of light. I got a moment of sight when lightning struck again but it only messed further with my eyes. I needed a flashlight or a covered hurricane lamp if this was how the rest of my night would be going. If my step-grandfather had hated ceiling lights then why hadn’t he used better ways of lighting the place? Everyone I knew had a range of emergency lights around their houses. This would be my first order of business, that is if I chose to move in. Every room would have a secondary set of lights, if I couldn’t install anything into the ceilings then there would at least be a flashlight housed in each room. Maybe it was just the type of lighting he despised and not the need for them alone. It was insane. Leave it to my fabulous grandmother to have married into a family more eccentric than the one she had in me.
Not being able to sit as the darkness wrapped around me, I fumbled my way to the mantel by the door to the hallway. I recalled the matches being left there when we’d come into the room, so they must be there for me to put flame to the remainder of the candles. After stubbing my toes on what felt like a chair, I got the matchbook and scratched one to life so I could make it to the desk without further damage.
It went out after a gust blew into the room and snuffed out my first attempt. I moved quickly to set it ablaze again and this time I succeeded. I cupped my hand over the small flame and prayed it wouldn’t go out again. There were only two matches left and I had no clue as to where the others were kept, or new candles, for that matter. I had left a candle in my room from last night, so that was something. I would leave the smaller of the two used candles in here for later, if I couldn’t find any more before going to bed.
I could have just made my way to my room and stayed there all night but I was too keyed up to just fall into bed. I was just plain annoyed. Using my pent-up angst, I made my way slowly to the kitchen where I fixed myself a peanut butter and honey sandwich. This comfort food would be even better with a few cups of tea. Putting down my food, I looked through the pantry for the tea I had glimpsed earlier. There was a peppermint green tea which would suit my mood and I went to fill the tea kettle hanging by the stove hood. I got a flame out of the fancy gas range and set to making my tea.
I retrieved my sandwich and sat down at the breakfast table to wait for the water to warm up. Halfway done with my dinner, I heard a scream which pierced my temples.
“I see you found the murderous tea kettle.”
I squealed, like the little girl that I was.
Kenrick yanked the screeching kettle off of the burner before my yelp finished echoing against the walls of the kitchen. My heart thudded so hard it was a lump I had to swallow around. He set the offending metal on an opposite burner after filling up a cup from a rack on the other side of the stove. Bringing the steaming cup to me, he took the other head of the table. I went about making my cup of tea, using the honey I had left out after making my sandwich. He just quietly stared at me while I went through the motions of something that should have been soothing. He’d turned it into something else.
“Can I help you?” I questioned as I palmed my near sweltering cup.
My tone was hotter than the liquid my breath was blowing on.
“No, no one can do that. I’m here to see if I can be of assistance to you before I retire for the evening.”
“Now you want to be helpful?” I laughed, then sipped at the cooled surface of my drink.
He just kept looking at me like he was waiting for more tha
n just a random set of questions.
“What is your deal?” I asked as I put down the china.
“I’m a complicated man with a sad history. A gentleman was kind to me, so I stuck around and helped where I could.”
“It sounds too simple for the enigma we’re in together.”
“That’s my background on being here in simple terminology.”
“How come you didn’t tell me all along that we were the only two people in this massive place?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Why do you keep disappearing?”
“You saw me handle things around the place, so that question was already answered.”
“Ugh, you are such a pain in the ass!”
“That isn’t a question,” he said quietly as he got up from his chair.
“What? You’re going to walk away after three questions? Are you some enchanted genie here to annoy the piss out of me?”
He shook his head and walked away. I smacked my hand against the tabletop in frustration. I wanted to snatch him up and make him answer me but it would only get me prisoned for assault and battery. He wasn’t worth jail time. I poured another cup of tea and forced myself to calm down. I so didn’t need the stress of this. If he was in constant asshole mode then I didn’t need him as a roommate either. The thought of him doing this to make me want to leave was quickly becoming more realistic in my mind. He’d have the place to himself for the rest of his life. And I certainly didn’t see this man having a child to hand it all over to. So, what his reason for staying? Just one more thing that made me think my handsome estate mate was indeed a money hound. A hound with a very kissable mouth, sadly.
I finished my cup and washed it out as I cleaned up before I retired to bed. I had had enough of today and just wanted it to be over before I stressed myself into another vision. Would it always be this way here? I certainly hoped not because I’d be back at the asylum, booking a suite for an undetermined amount of time. I said an old prayer of peace and light as I walked upstairs and made my shadowy way to my closed bedroom door.