“Sully? This isn’t a one-way deal. Some of my work is still going to have to be done in the city, and I’d definitely end up staying there overnight now and then. Plus, I know I’m going to need the occasional culture fix. And visits with my family. And time with my friends. So I’d keep my apartment. And as for the lodge… Sully, all those dead animal heads on the wall in the lounge have got to go.”
He smiled again. “I take it that isn’t negotiable?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, I guess if I was getting you, I could live without them. Is that everything, though?”
“Just about. We’d have to train Roxy not to chase Killer.”
“I think we could manage that.”
“All right. Then the only other thing is that I’d want you to promise you’d spend at least the odd weekend in Manhattan with me.”
“How odd?” he teased.
Her heart began to sing, and she finally decided it was safe to let herself smile back at him. “Should I assume you’re willing to go halfway on this, then?” she murmured.
His kiss said he most definitely was.
EPILOGUE
The beginning of the rest of their lives
GLANCING AROUND the Van Slykes’s penthouse apartment, Lauren’s arm linked through his, Sully was having trouble suppressing a grin. Despite her mother’s protestations that it was impossible to plan a wedding in less than a year, Lauren had gotten everything done within the space of five weeks. But even without taking that into consideration, he knew this couldn’t possibly be a typical Van Slyke wedding.
In the first place, Lauren wasn’t wearing a traditional white gown. She’d chosen a gorgeous dress that was pale yellow—because he’d once mentioned that he loved her in yellow.
In the second place, even though her mother had told her a hundred times that the bride and groom weren’t supposed to see each other before the ceremony, Lauren had said she wasn’t going to miss a minute of the fun and that the two of them would mingle with the guests as they arrived.
The other aspect of their wedding that wasn’t typically Van Slyke was the guest list. Oh, all of Lauren’s close relatives were here, along with her friends, Rosalie, friends of the family, and the board members of the Van Slyke Foundation.
But not Hunter Clifton, of course. Aside from anything else, he was no longer a board member. He’d resigned after he’d been charged with conspiracy to commit a felony and with counseling a youth to commit a crime—both very serious charges, according to Elliot, which were going to result in a jail term when Hunter was convicted.
Sully glanced around again, making sure his kids were all behaving. They, of course, were part of what made this an unusual guest list for the Van Slykes. And in addition to the boys, Grace and Otis were here, along with a goodly number of Sully’s friends and neighbors.
A few of them, like old Zeke Scrouthy, were wandering around wearing stunned expressions. Not long after Zeke had arrived, he’d taken Sully aside to ask him why the Van Slykes would want to rattle around in a two-story apartment that was bigger than the Newcomb Hotel.
Looking across the living room to where Roger and Susannah were talking with Marisa and her boyfriend, Sully couldn’t help thinking that things had gone far better with Lauren’s family than he’d dared hope. Marisa and Elliot had been great right from the start. And once Roger and Susannah had quit fighting the fact that Lauren was determined to marry him, they’d made an obvious attempt to accept him.
He forced his attention back to the moment and tuned in on what Lauren and her great-aunt Dorothy were chatting about.
Aunt Dorothy, whom he’d guess was about eighty years old, was wearing a dead fox around her neck. He didn’t think the animal heads Lauren had made him take down from the lounge had looked any worse than that, but he knew better than to voice his opinion.
He listened for a couple of minutes, while Aunt Dorothy talked about her problems with getting exactly the right accommodations on her upcoming cruise, then his thoughts drifted to the painting.
It had been three days, now, since the art experts had declared it an authentic van Gogh, but he was still having trouble believing it really was.
As for the question of ownership, Lauren had suggested waiting until they were certain that it was genuine before asking Elliot to look into that. She’d had a feeling they might jinx things, otherwise. At any rate, while Elliot had promised to have one of his friends, a top-notch estate lawyer, check into the specifics, he hadn’t gotten back to them yet.
Until that happened, Sully knew he wouldn’t be able to stop worrying. It would hardly be the end of the world if the painting wasn’t legally his, but he’d feel a lot better if it was. Because as hard as he’d tried he just hadn’t been able to shake his uneasiness about marrying money when he had none himself.
He looked at Lauren, thinking how much he loved her and how much he wanted her to be happy with him. He intended to do whatever it took to ensure she was, and if that came down to shoving his uneasiness into the dark recesses of his mind and forcing every last one of his concerns to stay there, he’d just have do his best to manage that.
Lost in thought, he didn’t realize Elliot and Ursula had arrived until they were standing in front of him. Elliot shook his hand and kissed Lauren and Aunt Dorothy. Ursula kissed all three of them, then dragged Aunt Dorothy off, saying she wanted to tell her what the children had been up to.
“I’ve got something for you, Sully,” Elliot said, taking a fat envelope from his inside pocket. “It’s an opinion letter on the issue of ownership.”
His chest suddenly felt so tight he could hardly breathe. He told himself Elliot wouldn’t give him bad news fifteen minutes before the marriage ceremony, but he was still afraid to reach for the envelope.
“Sully?” Lauren murmured, lightly poking him in the ribs.
He made himself stick his hand out and take the letter, made himself open the envelope and unfold the pages inside, made himself read.
Dear Mr. Sullivan,
Mr. Elliot Van Slyke has asked me to provide you with an opinion as to the ownership of a painting you recently discovered at Eagles Roost. Further to this instruction I have examined:
a) the Agreement of Purchase and Sale between Frank Watson (purchaser) and Hettie Russell (vendor) under which title to the property commonly known as Eagles Roost passed to Frank Watson; and
b) the Last Will and Testament of Frank Watson.
In addition, I have researched relevant statutory authorities and the case law.
Under the Agreement of Purchase and Sale, Hettie Russell sold the land, buildings and all their contents to Frank Watson. The contents are not in any way itemized but would, in my view, be deemed to include the painting. I stress, however, that this is my opinion only. Photocopies of three recent rulings bearing on this issue are enclosed for your information.
Subsequently, Frank Watson bequeathed the Eagles Roost land, buildings and their contents to you. No items were excluded or bequeathed to any other legatees.
After careful consideration and absent, unfortunately, of any directly relevant decided cases, it is my opinion that title to said painting passed to you pursuant to Frank Watson’s will.
Should you require further advice or assistance in this matter, I would be pleased to help you.
Yours truly,
Marcus Westerby, Attorney-at-Law
Sully silently handed the letter to Lauren, desperately trying to contain his excitement—because part of what was in that letter made him extremely anxious.
“Elliot?” he said as Lauren read the letter. “Why does he stress that it’s only his opinion? That sounds as if he’s not certain.”
“Is he, Elliot?” Lauren said, looking up from the letter.
When Sully glanced at her, her face was so pale that his heart sank. He’d been right to be anxious. The painting wasn’t definitely his. When he took her hand she squeezed his so hard it hurt.
“El
liot,” she said again, “your friend thinks the ownership will be contested, doesn’t he?”
“No, although it’s always possible.” Elliot smiled, then added, “But I think it’s awfully unlikely. And all Marcus is saying when he stresses it’s only his opinion is that he can’t state it as a legal certainty. But there really doesn’t seem to be anyone to contest anything. The Russells never had children. And when Hettie died, she left everything to a hospital.”
“Then,” Lauren said, “the hospital board will—”
“Uh-uh,” Elliot interrupted, still smiling. “The hospital no longer exists. It was torn down ten years ago, so in my legal opinion, Sully is home free.”
Sully wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but Lauren was suddenly in his arms, half laughing and half crying against his chest. He felt like both laughing and crying himself, but she seemed to be doing a good enough job for both of them so he simply held her—feeling happier than he’d ever felt before in his life. He was about to marry the woman he’d never expected to find. The woman he loved more than life itself.
“You know,” he finally whispered to her, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’d do if the painting did turn out to be mine.”
“And what did you decide?” she whispered back.
“Well, I was wondering if you could handle being director of two foundations.”
“Maybe. If I had enough staff. Why?”
“Because I’d like to use the bulk of whatever that van Gogh’s worth to set up The Frank Watson Memorial Foundation. And have it fund all kinds of programs for kids. Maybe award scholarships, too.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. But could you use a bit of the money to add a new wing to the lodge?”
“You mean expand the Eagles Roost program?”
“Well, we could, but what I actually meant was that you’re so wonderful with kids it would be a crime not to have some of our own.”
“Lauren,” he said, tilting her face up so she’d see he was teasing, “first you rush me into marrying you and now you want to rush me into having a family. I’m afraid to think what will be next.”
“You know what I’m afraid of, Sully?”
He shook his head, worried that she suddenly seemed so serious.
Then she smiled one of her fantastic smiles and said, “Absolutely nothing. As long as I’ve got you, I’m not afraid of anything in the world.”
“Ditto,” he whispered, forgetting all about the apartment full of people and proceeding to kiss her breathless.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-1004-2
FIVE IS ENOUGH
Copyright © 2011 by Dawn Stewardson
Originally published as SULLY’S KIDS © 1996 by Dawn Stewardson
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