by Bev Prescott
First, please say good-bye to Isabella for me. I have loved her like a daughter. She brought me great happiness and comfort these last few years. When others shunned me, she was my friend. She is a compassionate person. Even at her young age, she has already earned a place in heaven. I hope the events of her life, including my death, will not harden her gentle heart.
I’m afraid she won’t accept my choice to leave this world in the way I have. One of my requests is that you don’t let her blame herself. I’m a man who understands fate and choice. There are things in this world we have no control over. They are predetermined for us. Quite simply, they are our destiny. It’s what we choose to do with fate that matters.
The funny thing about it is that it sometimes comes to us in a subtle whisper, not meant to be heard but rather felt, like a distant rumble of thunder. We could live a lifetime before we recognize it. It took me a long time to understand this. The cancer running through my body determined that I would die soon. Therefore, my choice is not whether to live or die, but rather how to meet my end. Please let Isabella know that I’m at peace with this choice to go now, before I become a burden to anyone. Thank her for all she has done for me, which is greater than she will ever know.
As for my son, please tell him that, despite what the world may have thought of me, I found happiness and purpose living among the men of the shelter. They loved me unconditionally. There’s no greater gift a person can receive than that. Love and happiness are sometimes found in the most unlikely of places, if we only keep our hearts open to the possibility.
I want you to apologize to him on my behalf for breaking our appointment to meet. Perhaps I was too much of a coward after all these years to look him in the eyes. There was so much broken between us that it could never have been repaired in what little time I had left. I couldn’t bear the thought of opening old wounds only to leave him again in the end. Maybe someday he’ll understand that I did love him with all of my heart, even though I left all those years ago, and that I made the choice to leave again now. Sometimes, it’s impossible not to break a heart no matter what our choices are in this life.
The details of my death are as follows. I have taken the entire bottle of pain pills the doctor gave me on Wednesday. You’ll find my body in its eternal slumber on the bench near the Zakim bridge monument that overlooks the Charles River.
While I’ve instructed them not to be seen when the authorities arrive, my men will be in the area to guard my remains until you find me. In the breast pocket of my Army jacket you’ll find a picture of Isabella and me. Please see to it that she gets this photograph. It brought joy to my heart every time I looked at it. I hope it will have the same effect on her as it did on me. The people who make us happy are truly priceless. Under the bench will be a box of my Army medals. They are for my son, if he wants them to remember me by. My last wish is to be cremated and set free in the Atlantic Ocean.
I’ve planned my death so you will find me on a Sunday morning when the death of a homeless man is less likely to be sensationalized in the news. Please tell Isabella in person about my passing before she reads about it in the papers or finds out at work. Then ask her to call my son.
In closing, I leave you with this advice from a dead man, which surely should hold a lot of weight. It is the dead who finally come to understand life’s greatest mysteries. I give this advice to you as my most valuable parting counsel before I go. Please share it with Isabella and my son. Never settle for anything less than unbridled happiness and love, even if it comes to you in a form you never could have predicted for yourself. That is the greatest gift of fate. Receive it with open arms, and you will know your true meaning in life. Be warned, however, that fate doesn’t always play fair. Sometimes it requires something in exchange—a “quid pro quo,” if you will. Don’t be afraid to give up what it requires in exchange for your unbridled happiness, so long as you always remain true to yourself in the end. Keep your heart open to it.
I thank you for this kindness that you will do for me.
Sincerely,
David Cutter
David’s letter rattled Ben to his very core. Even in death, the eccentric old soldier challenged his beliefs about how the world was supposed to work. Ben always considered “fate” to be overrated. People used it as an excuse for too many troubles of their own making. He never considered the General’s point that fate and choice were two distinct things. It made sense that there were certain events in a person’s life that happened of their own accord, driven solely by the winds of destiny. Sickness, accidents, meeting the love of one’s life… Yeah, but when it comes, we get to decide how we react to it.
Until that moment, he had blamed Isabella entirely for wreaking havoc on her family and on her relationship with him. For the first time, he considered the possibility that Isabella didn’t choose to fall in love with a woman. He still couldn’t understand how that could happen, but for the sake of argument—he was a lawyer, after all—he was willing to acknowledge it as a reality. She still had choices, though. In the end, he wanted her to choose him, regardless of her feelings for Madison.
He made a copy of the letter and put it back into the envelope. If he found the General’s body by the bridge, he would give the original to the police. He’d have to retain a copy for his own records so he could carry out the General’s last wishes. Nothing in it was required to be kept confidential because of the attorney-client privilege. It was both a suicide note and the General’s attempt at a last will and testament. The police would keep the original until they’d completed an investigation into the death.
Ben pulled a pair of sweatpants on over his running shorts and headed toward the bridge. He walked rather than ran. What he expected to find wasn’t anything he was in any hurry to get to.
True to his word, the General’s body lay motionless on a bench in the quiet of the early morning. He rested peacefully on his back with his eyes closed, hands clasped together on his chest. A hint of a smile on his face suggested that he had been a man satisfied with his time in the world. If Ben didn’t know better, he’d think he was some happy drunk sleeping off a bender. The pallor of David’s skin and the lack of any movement told a different story. No doubt about it, the General was dead.
Ben stared down at the body. “Shit, he really did do it.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. “Hello, my name is Benjamin Jackson. I’m an attorney at Galliano, Lawton, and Simpson. Please send an officer and ambulance to the Charles River esplanade over by the Zakim monument. It appears a client of mine has committed suicide.”
While he waited for an officer to arrive, he surveyed the scene, being careful not to touch anything. He peered under the bench. There was a box, exactly as the General said there would be. How on earth was he going to tell Isabella? This could destroy her—not that what had happened in P-town hadn’t already made a good start on that. Perhaps it would shake some sense into her that she needed him and her family now more than ever.
He had to figure out how to find her. The last he knew from Maria, she was still staying with Madison. Ever since Isabella’s father made her choose between Madison and her family, she hadn’t been seen in the North End. Words from the General’s letter flashed in his mind. A quid pro quo, if you will. Isabella had choices all right. It wasn’t too late. He hoped she’d come around and choose him and her family over Madison.
The General’s unfortunate demise might have opened the door to him getting Isabella back. His showing up unannounced on a Sunday morning at the home of a woman who detested him might be palatable, given Isabella’s feelings for the General. He considered calling Maria to find out where Madison lived. He might even ask her to have Isabella give him a call to arrange to meet him somewhere. A lot could go wrong with that plan. Maria would insist on knowing what was going on. She couldn’t be trusted to keep the information quiet long enough for Ben to tell Isabella himself.
Then again, Isabella might refuse to see him, no matter
how important his reasons were for needing to talk to her. The only good option happened to be the most difficult.
Before the police and ambulance sirens got too close for him to make a call, he quickly dialed his cell phone. “Mendez, I’m glad I caught you. Look, I need an address and fast. Get it within the next fifteen minutes, and I’ll pay you double.”
Ben raised his voice. “I know it’s Sunday morning, but you’re the best private investigator money can buy. I need you to do this for me.” He paused. “That’s right, double. The name is Capt. Madison Brown. All I know is that she lives somewhere on the north shore… Good, I’ll talk to you shortly.” Ben flipped his cell phone closed and greeted the authorities as they arrived on the scene.
Chapter 21
In the warmth of the morning sun, Madison tugged carefully at the tenacious weeds threatening to consume the wildflowers in her tiny garden. Tug too hard, and the weed roots would take her flowers with it. Tug too little, and the tops would break off only to leave the suffocating roots behind.
Tending her garden made her think of Isabella. The strength of her family’s roots, like the dogged weeds in the garden, threatened to strangle her relationship with Isabella. Isabella’s father was determined to tear them apart. Isabella had been staying at Madison’s house since the confrontation in Provincetown. Her father treated Madison as though she were a common criminal. Madison was, after all, the terrible culprit who lured Isabella into a life of crime. He went to great lengths to make Isabella unwelcome in the North End, with or without Madison. For Isabella, the North End had always been home. Mr. Parisi’s tactic was simple: if Isabella didn’t give up Madison, he’d take away everything else that Isabella loved. Even when she’d dreaded the very worst, Madison couldn’t have predicted how brutal his reaction would be.
For selfish reasons, she was glad Isabella had stayed with her in the wake of her family crisis. She’d be happy if she stayed forever. Eventually Isabella would have to confront her father. If she didn’t, he’d succeed in taking away the people and places she loved.
Isabella obviously missed her family. They were a part of who she was. Still, the thought of Isabella locking horns with her father terrified Madison. She’d only dealt with him that one time, but there was no doubt he was a man accustomed to having things his way. What if Isabella left her to be with her family? Worse yet, what if she stayed with Madison, but grew to resent her for making her lose her family?
Madison pulled another weed and told herself again to be careful not to pull too hard, or too little, on the love she shared with Isabella. She’d put her best effort into nurturing it. If this love died, her ability to ever love again might well expire with it.
The sound of a slowing car caught her attention. A black BMW pulled to the curb in front of her house. She didn’t recognize the car and couldn’t imagine who would be paying her a visit at this hour on a Sunday morning.
Her blood went cold when Ben Jackson stepped from the car and made his way toward her. She reminded herself that she probably wouldn’t look good in prison stripes. Arrogant bastard. She grabbed the pruning shears lying nearby on the ground. She rose and planted herself between him and the front door. He’d have to go through her to get to Isabella.
Isabella was still asleep inside the house. Madison kept her voice low so as not to wake her. “What do you want? Are you some kind of stalker now?” She stepped closer to him. “You’ve gone too far by coming here.”
Ben raised his hands and backed two steps away. “Madison, please calm down. I’m not here for what you think. I’d also appreciate it if you’d put those pruning shears down. You’re scaring me.”
“Scaring you is going to be the least of your worries if you don’t get out of here. Why shouldn’t I call the police and have you arrested for trespassing? Oh wait, I forgot. Big-time fancy lawyers are above the law, right?” She stood only a few inches shorter than he did. She got up even closer to his face. “I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not going to take your bullshit this time.”
He eyed the shears in her hand. “I swear I’m not here to cause trouble for you or Isabella.” He moistened his lips. “I’ve got some bad news to deliver.”
“It’s not her father, is it? Is everything all right with Isabella’s family?”
“If you discount having a daughter who won’t speak to them, then yes, they’re fine.”
“It’s the other way around, and you know it. They’re the ones not speaking to her.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Her family is dying for her to come home. This whole thing is killing her mother. Isabella is holding all the cards. She’s the one choosing not to come home.”
“Have you forgotten the strings attached to her so-called choices?” Quarreling with Ben wasn’t worth the effort. “Why don’t you get to the point of why you’re here? I’m in no mood to debate with you. I’d have more success arguing with the lamppost.”
“It’s the General. He’s dead. He killed himself last night using the pain pills the doctor gave him. Someone left his suicide note on my doorstep this morning. He included instructions for what he wanted me to do. He wanted me to tell Isabella before she finds out about it from the news or at work.”
“That can’t be. He’d never do such a thing. He’s supposed to meet his son this week. Isabella told me he’s looking forward to seeing him after all these years.”
Ben pulled the copy of the letter out of his pocket and handed it to Madison. “Here, read this if you don’t believe me.”
She scanned the letter and handed it back to him. “This better not be some cheap trick. I’ll put these pruning shears to good use if I find out you’re scamming me.”
“Really, this is on the level. I saw his body myself. He’s gone, and I need to let Isabella know what happened.”
Madison set the shears aside. “I don’t know how much more Isabella can take right now. This is going to devastate her. The General was like family to her. She loved him as much as a blood relative.” Madison hung her head as the gravity of the situation hit her. “I don’t know what to do.”
Ben pocketed the letter. “Convince her to go home. She should be with her family.”
“Wouldn’t that be a convenient solution for you? I bet you’d be right there, waiting to pick up the pieces while her family talks her out of ever seeing me again. It’s not my place to try to convince Isabella of anything. She’s a grown woman who can figure out on her own what she needs. Unlike you or her family, I won’t stand in her way.”
“As long as you’re the one she wants,” Ben said in an accusing tone.
“This isn’t about me, and it’s not about you, either. If you cared about her as much as you say you do, you’d try seeing things from her perspective. You’re nothing but a patronizing jerk. You took it upon yourself to control whether or not she even talked to me. She’s not some child you can order to behave the way you want her to.”
“I admit I went too far. But I could see I was losing her to you. Surely you can understand how that would feel. If the situation were reversed, I bet you’d have done the same thing.”
Madison heard the front door open.
“No, she wouldn’t have,” Isabella said as she stepped from the doorway. “The difference between you and Madison is that she understands what it means to love someone. She’d never do the things you did.” She reached her hand toward Madison, who grasped it firmly. “You can leave, Ben. I don’t have anything more to say to you.”
“Fair enough, but there’s something I need to tell you before I go.” He handed her the photograph of David and Isabella from the General’s box.
“Where did you get this?” Isabella asked.
“The General left it for you. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but he committed suicide last night. The photograph was among the things he left behind. He wanted you to have it.”
“No! You’re lying to me again. How could you? He wouldn’t…” Tears welled in her eyes.
Isabella slammed her palms into Ben’s chest. “I bet you’re happy he killed himself. Now you can tell me that you were right about how naïve I’ve been about him. Go ahead and say it, Ben. David was a broken old man who gave up on living a long time ago.” Isabella buried her head in Madison’s shoulder and sobbed. “He had no right to leave without saying good-bye to me or his son.”
Madison pulled Isabella closer. “I don’t understand why the General would do this, but he always had a good reason for everything he did. In his heart, I’m sure he thought it was the right thing to do.”
Ben reached out and touched Isabella’s shoulder lightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please forgive me. I know you don’t believe it, but I do love you. I love you as a special person and a good friend. I only want to help you get through all of this.”
Madison was torn between letting Ben try to mend his friendship with Isabella and her desire to keep her from him. Madison strove for objectivity. “Sometimes, things hurt so much that you have to be willing to forgive so you can move on to a better place. The General’s son and the guys at the shelter are going to need you to help them accept the General’s decision to end his life on his terms.” She steeled herself to her feelings and went on. “That means you’re going to need your friends, including Ben, to help support you.”