He didn't seem to need an answer. "Well, that's not going to happen. I have destroyed all of my past emails with Angela, and without them there's only my recollection that we ever had such a promise. And I, frankly, don't remember anything but your betrayal, Liz. So there will be no lawsuit. But there will be a divorce. And a quick one, too, since I have rather dramatic proof of your infidelity." He gave her an awful smile. "Might need to find yourself a different lawyer, though. I'm not sure using this one will do you any favors with a divorce judge."
Liz turned to Blair and they exchanged a long silent glance. Then Blair rose, gave a cool nod to his fellow lawyer who'd just seen his naked pictures as if nothing had happened, and walked out with Liz.
Once the door had closed behind them, Shane dropped back into his seat. "That was fun. I had Woodward call both offices so I could set this up without either of you knowing. Worked better than I'd hoped."
Tyler looked annoyed, as well he should given that he'd been made part of a show he hadn't needed to see. Before he could speak, though, I said, "I know she cheated, but that was kind of cruel, don't you think?"
Shane blinked at me. "Of course. That's what she deserved. Him too." His forehead creased. "I thought you'd be pleased. I would never have gone after your money like that without them pushing me, and they just wanted it for themselves. The whole thing is disgusting."
No doubt about that. I felt slimy just having been in the room. Not sure what else to say to Shane, I turned to Tyler. "Now what?"
He shrugged. "I can't imagine they'll still file the suit, which means you should be able to continue on with your plans for the money."
He laid a subtle but clear emphasis on "your", and his sideways glance at Shane told me why. I wanted to tell him he had nothing to worry about since Shane would never file a lawsuit on his own, but I couldn't with Shane right there. Instead, I said, "That's good to hear. Thank you for all your work on it."
He smiled. "We'll see if you're still thanking me when you get my bill."
I smiled back. "Yes, we will. But I'm sure I will be."
I pushed back my chair and Shane said, "Angela, may I take you out to lunch to celebrate the end of all this?"
"Sure," I said, remembering our kiss and wondering if I'd be getting another one.
He smiled and stuffed those horrible pictures back into his briefcase, and I wondered what he'd do with them but decided I didn't want to know.
Shane headed for the door and Tyler leaned in and muttered, "I told you not to agree to anything."
I blinked. "I thought that only applied to Blair."
Shane looked back to see what was taking me so long, and I said, "Sorry, I'm on my way."
I gave Tyler one last glance, though, and his expression said he wished he'd applied his rule even more to Shane than to Blair.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I drove to yoga the next day reliving my lunch and afternoon with Shane.
He had apologized if his display of pictures had upset me, and I'd admitted it had but told him I could understand why he'd done it. I could understand the impulse, but giving in to it didn't seem like the kind of thing the Shane I remembered would have done. Calling Liz and Blair out on the affair? Of course. Doing it in front of Tyler and me, complete with visual aids? Unnecessarily cruel.
But I'd put that aside when he'd said that he didn't want to talk about or even think about Liz and Blair any more. We'd spent our lunch and a walk in a nearby park afterwards reminiscing about our past together, bringing up all the fun we'd shared and making it seem real again, and when we'd parted his kiss had been long and sweet and exactly what I'd wanted all afternoon. We had agreed to get together again in a few days, taking it slow even though I wanted nothing more than to get right back to where we'd been all those years ago, and I couldn't wait.
I could wait, though, for yoga. The private classes I'd been having with Emily-Claire had been all right, but it simply wasn't the same as being at the yoga studio with the energy of all the other students around me and so I'd decided to go back to my usual class. I had asked her to ask the students to please treat me the same as always, and especially not to make any requests for my money, and now that she'd done that I was going to give it a try. I did want to, but I was afraid it would be ruined by someone begging me for cash.
The class itself turned out to be wonderful. Things were a little awkward at the beginning, when everyone turned to stare at me, but it turned out that they were just shocked by my completely different hairstyle.
"I've always said it's what's inside that counts," Emily-Claire said, smiling her big sweet smile, "but it looks like the outside counts too, at least for Angela."
We all burst out laughing, and many of them came over to admire my hair and investigate how my previously straight and light brown locks had been transformed by the extensions and coloring. Those who didn't come over didn't seem any different from usual, and if anyone felt awkward with me because of the money she hid it well. I did get asked how much such a hair adventure would cost, and a few people blinked in shock when I admitted it had been nearly fifteen hundred dollars, but nobody commented.
I relaxed over the course of the class, both physically as the yoga did its magic and mentally as I stopped worrying that someone would accost me, and by the end of the hour I felt like I'd never been away.
In the change room, though, Laurie came over to me while I was wearing only my bra and underwear. Standing between me and the locker that contained my street clothes, she said, "Listen, I know what Emily-Claire said but my daughter's getting married in a month and her deadbeat father isn't contributing like he promised and I need fifty thousand--"
At least three women spoke at once. Though their words got garbled together the sense was clear, and Laurie turned red but said, "I can't help it! Without that money I can't give Kaley the perfect wedding and she'll be miserable." She took a step closer. "Please. It's nothing to you. It can't even be a month's interest. Two at the most."
More like less than two weeks, but I wouldn't say that. It made it worse, actually, that she thought it was longer but still felt entitled to ask for the money.
I shook my head. "I said I wouldn't take any requests here, and I meant it. Please, let me get my clothes."
Her eyes widened as several people behind her muttered their disbelief that she had asked. "But..."
"She said no," Mia said, moving forward.
We all stared at her, since the tiny blonde hardly ever spoke and had certainly never challenged anyone before.
She blushed a vibrant pink but cleared her throat and said, "Emily-Claire told us not to ask her here. She even said, if we really needed help, where to write to ask. But Angela's not supposed to be bothered here. So..."
She didn't finish, didn't flat-out tell Laurie to stop, but her meaning was clear and her support from everyone else even more clear.
Laurie sputtered for a moment, then turned on her heel and walked away.
"Thanks," I said softly to Mia as I gratefully reached for my clothes to cover what they probably all could tell was expensive and new lingerie.
She ducked her head. "I didn't do it because..." She blinked twice then said, "Never mind. You're welcome. I'm just glad she stopped."
"Me too," I said, but I wondered what she'd been going to say before changing direction. I couldn't ask, though, because she gave me a shy smile and hurried off to the other side of the change room before I could speak again.
I finished dressing and headed for home, trying to get back to the easy relaxed feeling I'd had at the end of class. Trying, and failing.
*****
The next weekend, I found out what Mia had been going to say.
After a peaceful yoga class, with no Laurie in attendance, John and I were in my apartment with our much-loved movie "Shaun of the Dead" playing as background accompaniment to going through part of my huge backlog of letters.
The ones that had been sent to the magazine turned out to b
e fairly quick to process, fortunately, since the vast majority of them were from people with even less reasonable claims to my money than Laurie. Demands for plastic surgery, vacations even I would consider too expensive, and fancy cars to impress relatives and coworkers, they all ended up on the reject pile.
My post office box mail, though, made me take my time far more often. Some ridiculous letters there too, of course, but by and large the people who'd found that address were more reasonable.
John and I paused to watch our favorite scene of the movie, in which the hero Shaun and his friends beat up a zombie with pool cues to the beat of Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now", then John laughed and said, "Maybe you could fund a cure for zombies."
"Sure, but then this movie would make no sense."
He smiled at me. "That would be a tragedy." He yawned hugely. "Sorry. It's not the company."
"I know, this is hardly the most exciting work. I feel the same way."
He nodded and lowered his eyes to his next letter, and before I could pull another one for myself he said, "This one claims to know you."
I chuckled. "What does that make, a thousand of my nearest and dearest friends?" I'd been stunned by how many people insisted they'd gone to school with me or had worked with me.
"I think it's a thousand and one."
He handed me the letter, and I realized this one was different from the other thousand.
This one came from Mia.
Dear Angela,
For the months I've known you, I've always thought you were a great person. I am thrilled for you that you won this money. I feel awkward making a suggestion for how you can spend some of it, but I'm going to because I think the situation is worth a little awkwardness.
I paused. "Do you have the envelope? What's the postmark?"
He squinted at the stamp. "February 15th or 16th. I'm not sure which. Why?"
"This one does know me. She's from yoga. I just wondered when she sent it." Both possible postmark dates were before my return to class, so her letter had already been on its way to me when she defended me against Laurie. Maybe her half-made comment had been her starting to tell me that wasn't why she'd defended me. I didn't honestly care WHY she'd done it, I was just grateful for it.
"I can get Zack's magnifying glass if you need to know for sure."
"Nope, that's good enough, thanks. Let's see what she wants."
I carried on, reading aloud now.
One of my coworkers, Florence, recently lost her husband of twenty-eight years to a heart attack. That's hard enough, of course, but it turns out that he was deeply in debt. Not only do they not have the investments she thought he'd been making for their retirement, the college fund her daughter was relying on does not exist.
The daughter, Leonora, is brilliant. Florence is one of the best medical researchers with whom I've ever had the privilege of working and I think Leonora is going to blow her out of the water.
But not if she can't devote herself to her studies. The program that suits Leonora's interests best is in the United States, so as a Canadian she will likely not be able to get a job there that will cover everything. She has been granted a scholarship which will take care of her tuition fees, but it won't help with her living expenses. So she plans to get a college diploma in something that will make her some money and then work until she can afford to go back to school.
She is a hard worker and driven, and I do believe she intends to make this plan work, but I can see so many life events that might get in her way and I hate it because I truly do believe the world needs her to become a researcher.
I haven't been able to find out from Florence exactly what Leonora would need for living expenses because she was so appalled at the idea that they might ask for help that she wouldn't discuss it with me, but my research suggests it might be around twenty-five thousand dollars a year. I think Leonora might discuss it, though, because she is almost more devastated by the loss of her college plans than the loss of her dad. She's been dreaming big dreams since she was eight and it hurts me to see it all slip away.
Angela, I know you're getting tons of requests, and probably lots from hugely deserving charities. Leonora's just one person, but I honestly think she's worth your consideration.
If you do too, I will gladly get you in contact with her so that you can talk further and make your decision. If you don't, I understand and won't ask again, and I appreciate your time.
I hope you'll return to yoga class at some point. It feels different without you.
Thank you,
Mia
I leaned back against my couch. "It's funny, you know. I've rejected a ton of 'send my kid to college' letters but I somehow can't imagine rejecting this one."
John nodded. "To me, the others didn't have any sort of plan for how they'd pay for it and that makes it feel different. These ladies thought there was a plan in place and one man's debts ruined everything for them."
The bitterness in his voice made my heart skip a beat, and I wanted to tell him that I knew about his debt and wanted to pay it off so it would have no effect on Zack.
Before I could, though, he cleared his throat and said, "At the least, I think it'd be worth meeting her. She does sound like a great person."
She did. I looked down at the letter, not really seeing it. "You know what else is funny?"
John jerked his head toward the television screen. "Shaun?"
I smiled at him. "Of course. But also..." I shook my head. "I don't know how to describe it."
He sobered. "Sorry. Go ahead."
Thinking aloud, I said, "Before I won, I would have assumed that I'd prefer the more emotional appeals. Not the 'buy me plastic surgery because I'm devastated by my old nose' ones, of course, but ones that... tugged at me. That were written to tug at me. But..." I looked down at the letter again. "Mia lays it all out logically. I can tell she really wants me to help Leonora but she doesn't beg me or play on how long we've known each other to make me feel guilty or anything like that."
"She's given you... a business plan," John said, nodding. "Not with a financial return on investment, but a return for the world."
"Exactly," I said. "You nailed it. And I think I want that return for the world. But it still surprises me that I prefer the colder, more logical, approach. I've always been more instinctive and emotional."
John tipped his head back and forth. "Maybe it's the money talking more than it's you."
"Maybe."
I emailed Mia right away to let her know I did want to meet with Leonora, and as I began opening the next letter I wondered if he could be right. Had the money taken over and changed my very nature?
Chapter Thirty-Three
"You sure you want to do this?" Eyebrows raised, John looked back and forth between his son and me.
I wasn't sure which of us he was asking more, but I answered. "Sure, why not?"
"Has the kid told you his ideas?"
I nodded. "I like 'em."
Zack grinned at me. "Then let's go. Bye, Dad. We'll tell you all about it when we get back. Take a nap or something."
John's neck reddened but he said, "Will do." He'd struggled to keep up with his teammates throughout that day's hockey game, and he'd nearly fallen asleep in the car as I drove the three of us back to the apartment afterwards. He had intended to come with Zack and me but he was too exhausted to manage it. I was worried about him, and how hard he was working, but I didn't know what to do about it.
After John wished us good luck Zack and I headed out of the apartment to await the arrival of the elevator, and while we stood in the hall he said, "So, which should we do first?"
I shrugged, smiling at how he could barely keep from dancing with excitement and loving that his plans for doing nice things for other people had him so worked up. "Your project, your call."
At school on Friday Zack's homeroom teacher had challenged each student to do something good for someone else over the weekend. Zack's friends had planned to pick up trash or fi
nd an old lady to help across the street but my buddy had decided to aim higher than that. He'd gone online and looked up ideas and then had chosen two things to do that Sunday afternoon.
One was free, but the other would cost some money, and when he'd told John and me about it before the hockey game and said he wanted me to help John had immediately said, "No way. If you're using money it has to be yours."
Zack had looked confused. "Of course. I meant I needed her to help me pick the right people. I have some money left over from Christmas and I was going to use that."
John had immediately apologized for his assumption, which I liked, and I'd agreed to help Zack in any way he needed except financially.
After another minute we gave up on the elevator and walked all the flights down to the ground floor. Outside in the still-cool March air, he said, "Okay. I'm the most scared about the hugs one so I think we should start there."
I smiled at him. "You got it. You didn't tell me before, though... do you want me doing it too or just keeping an eye on you?"
He considered this as we walked down the street toward the intersection he'd chosen because lots of pedestrians passed through it. "I kind of think just me doing it. Is that okay?"
"It's your project, pal. I'll do the filming and stay out of the way."
He smiled, but he looked terrified, and the closer we got to the intersection the slower he went.
When he'd nearly dragged to a halt I said, "If you'd rather only do the other one, that's fine, you know."
He shook his head hard. "I really like this one. Just scared." He shook his head again as if trying to dislodge something. "But you and Dad were scared on the Edgewalk and you went. I want to do this."
"Works for me." I smiled. "And I was scared, but I didn't think your dad was."
He gave me a 'then you're an idiot' look. "He talks a lot more when he's scared. And makes dumb jokes. Yeah, he was scared."
We arrived at the intersection and Zack took a deep breath then unzipped his jacket and pulled out the sign he'd made before we left. "Okay. Got the camera?"
Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Page 94