by Nancy Loyan
His parents mingled among the guests. He wondered if they were as uncomfortable as he. Women attired in silk, taffeta, and lamé dripped diamonds, while their escorts donned black tie. The crème de la crème of the social Blue Book were present. The Collingsworth’s party was the event of the season. An invitation meant that one had “arrived.”
Penelope wore a skintight gold bugle bead and sequined number to show off her taut, toned frame. She was the star of the evening because “daddy’s little girl” was engaged to be married. Travis felt like a date at a high school prom, with Penelope as prom queen.
Waiters in red waistcoats and white gloves served hors d’oevres and champagne on silver trays. Travis lost count of how many flutes he had downed. Since he wasn’t lightheaded, he determined that it wasn’t nearly enough.
When the orchestra abruptly stopped playing and Albert Collingsworth III took to the stage, Travis sensed that it wasn’t a good sign. A lump formed in the pit of his stomach.
“Welcome, friends,” Collingsworth greeted in a robust tone that immediately commanded attention. “This holiday season is special for so many reasons. First, as you know, my beloved Penelope is engaged to Jonathan Travis Harrington. III, a friend since childhood, and the son of good friends.”
There was resounding applause. Penelope squeezed Travis’ arm, and acknowledged the guests with a glistening smile. She resembled the winner of a beauty pageant, and he wanted to gag.
“Second, I’d like to announce the formal purchase of C & H Stables in Lexington, Kentucky. I know that I was going to present the acquisition to Penelope and Travis as a wedding present, but I just couldn’t wait. Merry Christmas, Penelope and Travis.”
There was more resounding applause. Penelope was so giddy with excitement that she was jumping up and down. Travis stood shell-shocked and unimpressed. He didn’t want the present.
“Probably on his financial advisor’s advice. Tax write-off for this year,” Travis mumbled, thinking out loud.
“What?” Pen asked.
Of course she couldn’t hear him with all of the clapping, whispers, and commentary from guests.
Penelope nudged him,“ Go up there. You have to thank him.”
Thank him? Travis wanted to sock him. Yet, he had to remain calm, and go along with the plan. His family and friends were all present, and he wouldn’t create a scene and ruin their holiday spirit, though his was lacking.
He walked up on the stage and shook Collingsworth’s hand. “What can I say? Words escape me at such a generous gift. You have made Penelope the happiest girl in the world. Thank you.”
At that, he walked off the stage, and was joined by Penelope who glowed in the spotlight, as all attention focused on her.
“Isn’t it exciting?” she gushed, beaming.
“Exciting doesn’t quite describe the feeling,” he answered.
She squeezed his arm. “You do know what Daddy is giving us for Christmas, don’t you?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Horses. And Mommy is hiring an interior designer to assist me with the new furnishings for the house. She’s already interviewing staff, too. By the time we get married, everything will be all set, and in move-in condition.”
“It sounds like your parents have everything under control.”
“Isn’t it just wonderful?”
Luckily, friends interrupted their conversation before Travis could answer. He was wondering who was really getting married. He half-expected the Collingsworths to renew their vows. After all, they were planning the August wedding, purchased the home and horses for the stables, were hiring staff for the home, and even coordinating its interior design. Where did he fit in? All of the decisions that were to impact his life were being made by the in-laws. They were even creating a job for him.
Hell, he wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears youngster just starting out in life, and easily influenced. He was thirty-five years old, with a career that he loved, and a mind of his own. He wasn’t some puppet allowing someone else to pull the strings.
Penelope had to realize that she was marrying him. She was no longer “Daddy’s little girl.” She was a grown woman. Wasn’t it about time that she took charge of her own life already and cut the apron strings?
They needed to sit down and discuss things. He would wait until after the holidays when all of the holiday spirit died down. What better time to plan for a new life than in the beginning of the New Year.
8
Shelby placed the Christmas card on the fireplace mantle in her living room. It was the only symbol of Christmas, a holiday she had chosen to ignore this year. Knowing that she was losing her house and life, it drained all holiday spirit.
There wasn’t a decorated and lit fir tree in the bay window, pine swag on the mantle with stockings for each of her pets, or a balsam wreath on her front door. What was there to celebrate?
The card was a surprise. She hadn’t sent any Christmas cards this year, not that she had many to mail anyway, since she hadn’t any family and, save for a few neighbors and clients, her card list was rather short. The card with the Currier and Ives scene was rather reminiscent of her farm. Travis made note of it in his flowing script, and the word “Fondly” before his signature. Funny, how he had remembered her at Christmas. She swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Someone actually remembered her.
She had thought of him more than she wanted to admit. Travis had added sparkle to her lonely life. Though she had only seen him a few times, his presence had impact. Never had she met someone who shared her love of horses and animals with genuine concern, empathy, and kindness. They were complete opposites and, yet, there was a familiarity and kinship. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. With a sigh, she wondered why she should care when he had a fiancé, and a life far-removed from her remote and simple farmstead.
The snowflakes outside her window were increasing in intensity, and the blowing and drifting, creating a blizzard. Mounds of the white stuff were piling up outside, and the trees and bushes were coated in white. At least her horses had their blankets, bedding, and space heater in the barn. Her dog pack was nestled by the blazing fire in the hearth, their snores blending with the crackling of the logs.
She was grateful that her animals were not aware of the turmoil in her life. They had yet to be uprooted and, so far, were content in their home. She was not. Pacing the floor, the manila envelope on the coffee table was intimidating her with the return address of a Chicago law firm. Wasn’t it bad enough that the I.R.S was hounding her? Now, a law firm? No news was good news when it was tied to a law firm, she surmised.
Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Bah Humbug!
Yet, the contents of the envelope were playing with her mind, having her wonder what the papers had to say. She could run, but she couldn’t hide. Whatever was inside that envelope would be exposed, whether it was now, or later. Either way, it would somehow impact her life and her future. Contemplating opening it, she wondered what could be worse than her present situation. She was already at rock bottom.
“Shit,” she drawled, bending to retrieve the envelope. The word alone had the dogs’ ears perk up.
Sitting on the sofa, she tore open one end of the envelope and slid out the contents. Legal forms. Great. Before reading the enclosed letter, she unfolded a legal document.
“What the hell?” she said aloud.
In her hands was the deed to her home and farm. She read over the new deed that listed her as the sole owner free and clear, and thought that she was dreaming. There had to be mistake. Something was very wrong. She proceeded to read the enclosed letter, seeking an explanation.
The letter, written by an attorney at a Chicago law firm, stated that the farm was purchased by an anonymous benefactor, and gifted to her free and clear. Thus, a portion of the proceeds was paid to the I.R.S eliminating her debt. The remaining monies, plus a sizable donation, were put toward the establishment of a non-profit equine and animal rescue foundation
, and therapeutic riding center in her name. In addition, a sizable contribution was made to an endowment to assure the success of the foundation in perpetuity.
Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!
Her hands trembled. Was this real or some sort of joke? The documents sure looked real. The “i’s” were dotted and the “t’s” were crossed. The documents were in order, notarized, and in her name. She kept staring at the paperwork in disbelief. Tears streamed from her eyes, blurring her vision. Who knew about her plight and had the money and wherewithal, to do such a thing? Why would anyone care?
“Oh my God!” She covered her mouth, stifling a scream. “Travis?”
The only person she had confided in about the I.R.S debt, and the sale of her farm was Travis. He was the only person she had ever mentioned her dream of having a rescue organization and therapeutic riding center. Hey, wasn’t his best a friend a lawyer in Chicago? He had the funds.
Why would he do this for her? Yes, they had a met a few times and had deep conversations. He did kiss her, once. They had a great deal in common, but lived in different worlds. Why would a man she hardly knew be so generous? Surely, he had better causes and uses for his money? She was a nobody, a guppy in an ocean. Why would her little world matter enough for him to care?
And, he was giving it all to her free and clear. There was no mention of the name Travis Harrington on any of the documents. The letter just stated that an anonymous donor was presenting this gift to her. He didn’t want his being the benefactor revealed. Why?
Gift!
She couldn’t have asked for a better gift than this!
Wait. A gift? This wasn’t right. Hadn’t she always been an independent woman? She never wanted to be beholden to anyone, as she always earned what she had. How could she accept this as a gift? Granted, she more than appreciated having her farm, animals, and life saved. Yet, having a near stranger bestow such a valuable and sizable gift didn’t feel right.
“I know I’m crazy, but I’m not a charity case,” she said aloud.
She shrugged and shook her head. She had to swallow her pride. Yet, she also knew that it wouldn’t feel right unless she at least paid him back, even in small increments over a span of years. She had to pay him back somehow, especially for the I.R.S. fees. He shouldn’t be the one paying for Abram’s negligence. It would only be fair and right.
“Hey, Travis, I wanted to let you know that I mailed all of the paperwork to Shelby Shane. She should be in receipt of the deed, foundation documents, and such. Of course, I didn’t mention your involvement, just an ‘anonymous benefactor.’”
“Thanks, Paul.” Travis wondered how Shelby reacted when she received the documents. He wished that he could have been there to witness it, and see her radiant face, and glow of surprise and relief. The thought made him smile.
“I still don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to. I just presented someone who deserves some good news, the ultimate Christmas and New Year’s present.”
“I’ll say. I’ve been practicing law a long time, and have never witnessed such generosity.”
Travis chuckled. “Just call me Santa Claus.”
“I’d like to meet this Shelby chick one day. She must be really special for you to donate such a huge portion of your inheritance.”
“She is special, a very decent human being. People, who are as caring and non-materialistic as she, are few and far between.” Just thinking about her, the farm, the horses and dogs made him feel warm and fuzzy. He hadn’t been so happy in years.
“Mother Teresa?”
“But better looking.” Visions of her blonde hair, small waist, long legs, and shapely boobs added heat to his mood.
“Then why are you still intent on marrying Penelope?”
“What do you mean?”
“If this Shelby is so hot, and wonderful enough for you to invest a fortune in, why are you marrying such a self-centered, materialistic girl like Pen? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“So much in this world doesn’t make sense, but there is such a thing as obligation, and doing what’s expected.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You can’t sacrifice yourself because it’s expected.”
“Paul, there is such a thing as honor.”
“Screw that military academy mentality. You’re beginning to sound like that fucktard, Albert Collingsworth.”
Travis couldn’t help but laugh. After all, Collingsworth was a fucktard. “I get your drift.”
“No, Travis, you don’t. In the end no one will care what you did, or didn’t do. You’ll be the only one holding the bag. If you want to throw your life away on “Suzy cream cheese” Pen, do it. You’ll live to regret it until your dying day. If she doesn’t make you happy now, she won’t later. And, if you give in, and live on that Lexington horse farm, you may as well change your name to Collingsworth.”
“You make some good points.” Paul was right, he had to admit. Yet, when one was raised under a strict social code, it was a struggle to rebel.
“You know, I don’t give a rat’s ass about what’s expected of me, and you shouldn’t either,” Paul said. “Times have changed. It’s your life, buddy.”
“Okay, Paul. I get it.”
“You know, you bought that Harley as a form of rebellion, and it’s proven to be a good thing.”
Yes, he had to admit that it was. It led him to Shelby.
“Isn’t it about time you live your life with that same sense of rebellion?”
“You’ve given me some food for thought.”
“One day you are going to thank me. And owe me.”
9
“Hey, Travis,” Paul’s friendly voice on the other end of his cell was a welcome diversion from Travis’s spring curriculum planning. After the holidays, all thoughts turned to spring. With the snowdrifts growing outside his window, and the howling wind blowing in off Lake Maxinkuckie, thoughts of warmer weather made the freezing Indiana days more pleasant.
“What’s up?”
“Guess who called me today?”
“The girl of your dreams?” Travis chuckled.
“No, the girl of your dreams, buddy. The girl you invested a fortune in Michigan.”
“Shelby?” His heart raced.
“Yep, one and the same. She just wanted to go over the documentation. For some reason, I think that she thought they weren’t valid. When I assured her that everything was legally hers, she was speechless.”
“How did she sound?”
“Very poised and intelligent. Damn, her voice is like velvet.”
“Did she ask about me?”
“Actually, she did inquire about the ‘anonymous donor,’ and asked if it were you.”
“And?”
“Fiduciary duty. I didn’t say. You wanted to remain anonymous.”
“I guess I did.”
“You do understand that she strongly suspects you. Apparently, no one else knew of her predicament, and few people have shown her such generosity.”
“Few people deserve the assistance.”
“Trav, if you aren’t interested in this girl, would you introduce her to me? She sounds like a gem.”
“I’m getting married. Why would I be interested?”
“Hmmm …”
Was he interested in Shelby? Yes and No? He was still engaged to Penelope, and planning a wedding. Yet, he couldn’t envision Shelby with Paul, or any other man but himself.
“By the way, Trav, I think your dad knows that you’ve deducted a substantial part of your inheritance from your account, and is concerned. Just giving you the head’s up. I’m not talking. Fiduciary duty to you.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
No sooner had Paul issued the warning, Travis was summoned to discuss matters with his father. He couldn’t leave Culver mid-session, so arranged a Skype conversation with him. His father’s secretary made the arrangements.
Seeing his father on a computer screen was a
lot less intimidating than being seated in the same room with him. Still, he could see each wrinkled facial expression of concern as his father spoke.
“Son, I hate to pry into your personal business, but are you in trouble?”
“Why?’
“I’ve been informed that you’ve withdrawn a huge portion of your inheritance from your grandfather’s trust recently. It’s unlike you to require large sums of money.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that?” His father’s brows furled, as they did when he was upset.
“I donated it to a friend who is forming an equine rescue and therapeutic riding center. It’s a non-profit charity that will be helping animals and underprivileged, handicapped, and disabled children. Quite honestly, I can’t think of a better cause and use of the funds.”
“That’s admirable, but why didn’t you mention it? You know that your mother and I are big on philanthropy.”
“I figured that as an adult, it was time for me to contribute to my own causes.”
“What’s the name of this operation, and who is leading it?”
“I prefer not to say, as I provided the funds anonymously.”
His father smiled, and that was a relief.
“Son, I guess that it’s not a bad idea, since money will be plentiful once you get married in August. I see thoroughbred racing as a win-win opportunity.”