“Your heart attack,” she supplemented, calling a spade a spade.
“That” was the only way Shawn would acknowledge the incident. “And you’re the one who was there to help me when Grace died.” He took her hand in his. She was a good girl, he thought. And as such, she’d resist what he had to say. But now that he’d decided, he wasn’t about to be talked out of it. “You’re the one who’s been my rock, Shana. It wouldn’t be fair to give you the same amount that Susan gets. Susan hasn’t been here for me, not once.”
Shana shook her head. This wasn’t right. She didn’t want Susan’s share. She didn’t want any of it. She just wanted her father to continue the way he had, for years to come.
“Dad, she’s your daughter, same as me.”
“But she doesn’t act the same as you,” he pointed out.
Shana wasn’t comfortable with this decision. Although she and Susan had been estranged for a number of years and she resented the way her sister ignored their father, Susan was still her sister, still his daughter. She knew how hurt she would have been if the situation was reversed. She thought back to a time when she’d idolized her sister. The latter never had time for her, but that still didn’t change the love that she felt.
“Dad, are you really sure that you want to do something so drastic?”
“I’m sure.” He patted her hand. “I want you to know how much I love you.”
Her father had grown up poor. As a young man, he’d struggled for every dollar he made, judiciously investing it into his business until it flourished. To him, money meant a great deal.
It didn’t to her.
“I know that, Dad,” she told him gently, trying to make him understand. “I don’t need money to tell me that.”
He thought for a moment. There was a practical side to this that he had to make her understand. “Okay, let me put it to you this way. If I split the restaurant between you, give you each half, what do you think Susan would want to do with her half?”
It didn’t even take her a second to think about the question. Susan went through money like water. The only time she turned up was when she ran out of it and needed more.
“Sell it.”
“Exactly. And you don’t have enough money to buy her share,” he pointed out, “so it’ll go on the market to be sold to whoever makes the best bid. Some stranger will own and run the restaurant I poured my life’s blood into,” he told her with passion. “I don’t want that. Same with the house. You were born in that house, Shana. Grace died in that house.” The house was over fifty years old. Sturdy, but old-fashioned by today’s tastes. It stood on a nice sized plot which had tremendous appeal in this day of postage-sized yards. “I don’t want some stranger tearing down the walls and changing things around. I want you to have it because you made my life—our lives—your mother’s and mine—such a pleasure.”
Shana blinked, trying to physically push back the tears that were making her lashes heavy. “Dad,” she began to protest.
She saw that familiar stubborn look enter Shawn’s crystal-blue eyes. “No, I’ve made up my mind.”
Apparently on the spur of the moment, Travis couldn’t help thinking.
Shawn turned toward him. “This is what I want, Travis,” he told him. “I want only a small amount of one of the bank accounts to go to Susan. I haven’t decided how much yet. But the bulk of the accounts, the restaurant and the house, I want that to all go to Shana when I die.”
It was a simple enough matter to arrange. “We could leave that one bank account out, not specify it in the terms of the living trust. That way, only Shana’s name would appear in the paperwork. It’s a little less harsh than having to spell out that you want none of the proceeds to go to Susan. We’re making the trust revocable instead of irrevocable. That way, if you change your mind later, your decision can be reversed.”
Shawn thought it over for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll do it your way,” he agreed, “and leave the account out. But I do want it spelled out that Susan’s not to get any part of the items that are covered under the living trust.” Susan was devious, she always had been. He didn’t want her tying things up and keeping Shana from what she was entitled to.
“Dad—” Shana began to protest again.
He wasn’t about to allow himself to be talked out of it. Shana had a good heart, but Susan didn’t. If the situation were reversed, Susan wouldn’t have spent a single moment worrying about the fairness of the arrangement, she would have urged him to put it in writing.
“No, Shana, this is for the best, trust me. Someday, you’ll understand why I did this.”
He was doing it out of a sense of atonement, Travis thought. He didn’t like to interfere in his clients’ decisions, but in part he was being paid for his judgment and he needed to exercise it. “Mr. O’Reilly, this really might not be the way to go. Maybe you’d like to think it over for a while.”
“I have thought it over for a while,” Shawn told him. “A long while. And I’m fine with the decision. It’s the right thing to do,” he said confidently. “And it’s what I want.”
And that was that.
Chapter 7
T ravis hadn’t been practicing his profession nearly as long as the other attorneys in the firm. But during his relatively short run, he’d been exposed to his share of clients who displayed less than sterling attributes. The lure of an inheritance—or the withholding of one—brought out the baser instincts and emotions, with greed leading the charge.
So it took him by surprise when Shana leaned over and asked, “Can I override his wishes?” the moment that O’Reilly left the room.
For the better part of the last hour, he and Shawn had been going over the various documents regarding his various bank accounts—both personal and business—his restaurant and the house where he lived with Shana. The latter had given up her apartment a little more than a year ago, moving back in with O’Reilly to take care of him after he’d suffered a second heart attack. Concerned about yet another recurrence, she never got around to moving out again.
“Well, I think that does it,” Travis said. “I’ll just have Bea revise the trust, make copies of all of these and you can be on your way.” He buzzed the administrative assistant who, rather than answer, just appeared in his doorway. Travis crossed to her. “Bea, I need one copy made of each of these. Plus, these changes to the trust. And the property funding the trust will need to be set out as an exhibit thereto, if you don’t mind.”
The expression on the woman’s face said that of course she did, but that she would do it anyway. Taking the documents from him, Bea turned on her short, squat heel to make a pilgrimage first to the copy machine.
“Wait up, young lady,” Shawn called out to Bea, who hadn’t heard the description applied to herself for close to half a century. “Mind pointing out the men’s room to me?” he asked.
The moment he crossed the threshold, Shana turned and posed her question to Travis.
He wasn’t sure that he followed her. “What do you mean?”
“If…if he dies.” Travis noticed that she didn’t say “when” but “if.” He realized that O’Reilly had managed to keep some things from her despite her zeal for being hands-on in her care of him. “Do I have to abide by his wishes?”
Once the terms of the trust had been met and Shawn passed away, the things included beneath the virtual umbrella were hers to do with as she saw fit. “What is it that you’d want to do?” he asked, curious.
“Divide the property equally between us. Susan and me,” she added. There was no other family, No nieces or nephews or distant cousins, several times removed. There was just Susan and her. Susan had been married several times—twice or three times if the ceremony by the Tibetan recluse was legitimate—but there were no children.
Travis tried to guess at her reasoning in light of the little he knew about her. “Don’t you think you deserve to get more than she does?”
Shana raised her eyes to his. He found he couldn’
t read them. “Because I’m taking care of him?”
He was a firm believer that good deeds should be rewarded. “That, and because, as he said, you’re there for him when he needs you. It’s not just little children who need love,” Travis said. “Older people need it, too.”
“There is no age limit on love,” Shana responded. “I know that. But that also means that Susan would be very hurt if she knew that Dad decided not to give her the same amount he was giving me. My sister has very low self-esteem as it is. Why else would she keep throwing her lot in with men who are only out to use her?”
That question fell more into Trent’s realm than his, Travis thought. Or Kate’s. “I take it you don’t believe in the old adage about reaping what you’ve sown.”
“Susan’s life is hard. I don’t like her neglecting Dad this way, but she’s never really been able to get her act together. Under all that anger and confusion, there’s a really good person there.”
She actually believed that, he thought. That much he could see in her eyes. “Maybe being left out in the cold, so to speak, might do her some good. It could be a real wake-up call for Susan.”
She looked disappointed with his answer. “Then you agree with my father?”
He didn’t know enough yet to really agree or disagree, although he did have leanings based on the information O’Reilly had shared with him earlier today.
Since she was waiting for an answer, he skirted the issue. “I think that a person has the right to distribute his assets the way he sees fit. Although it would be nice to believe, we are not all created equal. We’re just created with the right to try to be equal.” He’d do her one better. “Everyone thinks that a parent is supposed to love all their children the same. But each kid is different and, being human, parents react differently to them. I’m sure that Mr. O’Reilly bailed Susan out—figuratively—more than once, but he just wants to reward you for not taking after her.”
Shana frowned at the implication. “I’m not doing any of this to be ‘rewarded.’”
“All the more reason why you should be,” Travis pointed out. “Because you’re doing what you’re doing—going out of your way—selflessly.”
She looked at him for a long moment, putting her own interpretation to his words. “Then you’d give me a hard time about it?” she wanted to know. “When the time comes and I want to give Susan half of everything, you’ll try to stop me?”
“I can’t stop you,” he said honestly.
Did she have any idea how appealing she was? He found himself more and more mesmerized by her, more focused on the way her lips moved when she spoke. He had to get a grip. On himself, and not her, he added, struggling to bank down the desire to touch her, to frame her face with his hands, to breathe in her perfume and to lose himself in the silkiness of her hair.
“But I would ask you to reconsider your impulse and not do anything hasty. I’d ask you to take a cooling off period. There’s a reason for everything and Mr. O’Reilly would want you to consider all sides of this.”
His wording puzzled her. What sides were there beyond what was so apparent? “You’re making this sound very mysterious.”
Travis drew back from the subject. “Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” He saw Shawn entering the room, followed by Bea who placed the originals and the photocopies she’d made on his desk side by side along with multiple original trust documents. Travis gave up a silent prayer of thanksgiving as he rose to his feet again. Saved by the cavalry. “Mr. O’Reilly, you’re just in time to review and sign all the papers. The Exhibit thereto, noting all trust property documented today, we will prepare shortly.”
Barely hearing him, Shawn forced a smile to his lips as he took a seat again. “Bring them on.”
Shana was immediately concerned. When she took Shawn’s hand in hers, it was clammy.
“Dad, are you all right?” She looked at his face. He’d lost his color, and there was a line of perspiration on his brow. “You look very pale.”
Shawn waved away her concern, struggling to center himself. His strength returned in slow dribbles and drabs. “Just lost my breath there for a minute,” he admitted.
Shana and Travis exchanged looks. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Travis offered. He was on his feet before the man answered.
Shawn caught hold of his arm, tugging Travis back down to his seat. “If I went to the hospital every time I lost my breath, I would have never left the ER parking lot for the last two years. I’m all right. Really,” he emphasized when he saw the doubtful expression on Shana’s face. “Now, where are those papers you said you want me to sign?”
Travis presented him with the short stack and handed him a pen. After Travis pointed out the major trust provisions, Shawn began writing his signature in the appropriate place.
Shana remained unconvinced. “Dad, maybe I should call Dr. Darel—”
Shawn shook his head, stopping her. “I just saw him last week,” he reminded her.
That didn’t deter Shana. “Well, you can just see him again.”
His voice was soft, but he remained firm. “I’d rather see the restaurant. That always makes me feel good.”
Why couldn’t she get him to listen? Was he determined to run himself into the ground? “Dad—”
“Shana, stop fussing,” he ordered. Finished, Shawn pushed the pile of papers closer to Travis on the coffee table. “Anything else to sign?” he asked him.
Travis gathered all the pages together, straightening them into a neat pile. “No, that was the last of them.” He clipped them all together. “I’ll begin funding the trust and should have the official copies for you shortly.”
Shawn looked well pleased. “That fast?”
“You’re paying premium rates,” Travis reminded him. “You’re entitled to premium service.”
Shawn beamed, his eyes crinkling into small blue slits. “I like the way you think, boy. Come by the restaurant tonight.” Leaning on Shana, he rose heavily to his feet, then clapped Travis on the shoulder. “I’ll have the chef make something special for you.”
“Thanks, but there’s really no need for that,” Travis protested.
“Sure there is,” Shawn countered in that “don’t-argue-with-me-boy” voice. “You’re going to be explaining all the finer points of this trust to me. Singin’ for your supper, so to speak,” he added with a broad wink.
Travis laughed, shaking his head. “Well, since you put it that way, how can I refuse?”
Shawn looked pleased. Some of the color was returning to his face. “You can’t.”
Was it his imagination, or had the man glanced at his daughter first before silently declaring his maneuver a triumph? No, it was probably his imagination, Travis decided.
Shawn took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Releasing her arm, he made his way to the door. “All right, Shana, I think I’ll stop at the house before going to the restaurant.”
She was beside him in two steps. “I knew it. You are feeling sick.”
He’d thought of something he might have forgotten to include within the trust’s protective cover. “No, I want to check something out before going into work.”
She didn’t believe him for a second. He was going to go to his room and lie down for a few minutes, she’d bet anything on it.
One hand fisted at her waist, she eyed him suspiciously. “What?”
Instead of answering her, he glanced over his shoulder at Travis. “Don’t have kids, Travis. They turn on you the second they’re out of diapers.”
But it was obvious to anyone who listened or looked that there was a great deal of affection in the man’s voice as well as in his eyes when he regarded Shana.
“Sometimes, even before,” Shana added, winking at Travis.
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Travis promised as he closed the door.
He had ten minutes until his next appointment. It would take him that long to talk his pulse down to a manageable level.
> “Trav, what are you doing tonight?”
He’d picked up the phone automatically. Bea had ducked out for two hours right after lunchtime, muttering something about a dental appointment and a root canal. That had left him on his own, fielding the next two clients by himself. The second one had just left and he was pulling papers together, mentally outlining tomorrow when the phone rang.
It took Travis a moment to connect the voice on the other end of the line to a face. “Mike?”
“Yeah. What are you doing tonight?” his brother repeated the question.
Tonight. Shana. A warm glow detonated in his abdomen, spreading out like a sunburst. What was it about that woman that transformed him from a competent attorney to a bowl of gelatin? He didn’t know, but he definitely wanted to find out.
“Actually, I’m going out.”
Mike laughed. “On a school night?”
Was he that predictable? He supposed he was. He usually didn’t go out during the week. Like Trevor, he found himself working long hours and forgetting about the time.
“Very funny.”
“This thing you’ve got tonight, can you get out of it?” Mike asked.
He caught himself smiling. Moreover, he couldn’t seem to stop. “It’s not exactly something I want to get out of.”
“Oh.” It was a long, pregnant “oh” that seemed to go on for several seconds before he added, “Then bring her along.”
“What makes you think there’s a ‘her’?”
He heard Mike laugh. “Elementary, my dear Watson. Because you didn’t flat out say there wasn’t.”
Because he judged the feelings he was experiencing as coming under the heading of adolescent, Travis preferred not to share this with his older brother. “This involves a client.”
Mike sounded pleased at the information. “All the better. Reschedule.”
[Kate's Boys 04] - Travis's Appeal Page 7