by M. S. Parker
I went over to the couch and sat down. It shouldn’t have surprised me, I supposed, knowing the lengths they were willing to go to, but I supposed a secret part of me had been hoping that they’d simply been driven by grief, wanting to have something that had been Allen’s. Now I saw that they were just as cold and cruel as I’d always thought.
A knock on the door kept me from spiraling into the darkness that Allen’s family brought with them. I stood and walked over to the door. For a brief moment, I thought it might be someone coming to serve me with legal papers, but as I opened it, I remembered that I’d asked Jasper to come over.
He took one look at my face and frowned. “What did Allen’s family do now?”
I motioned for him to come in. He followed me into the living room, but didn’t even look at the things I’d set out. I returned to my seat on the couch. I was just so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of the accusations. I didn’t want to forget Allen, but I wanted to move on, from this at least. I wanted the chance to be normal again, even if I couldn’t be happy. I wanted to be able to wake up and not dread what the day was going to bring.
“Shae, you can talk to me.” Jasper sat next to me. “What’s going on?”
I gestured towards the boxes on the table. “Did you want any of Allen’s things?”
He glanced at them and I saw his expression tighten.
“I haven’t gone through any of the stuff upstairs,” I said as I looked down at my hands. “But I thought you might want some of his books or tools.”
“Thank you,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re more his family than any of them,” I said. I heard the edge of bitterness in my words but didn’t apologize for it. I knew he’d understand. If anyone could, it’d be him.
He put his hand over mine and I looked up. “What did they do?” His voice was quiet, but there was an edge of something unpleasant that wasn’t directed at me.
“I’m so tired of fighting them, Jasper.” I clung to his hand, grateful for the strength I could feel him giving me. “They’re not just contesting me inheriting his trust.” I didn’t tell him about the portion earmarked for him. I didn’t want to get his hopes up for something that he might never get. “And not only the vineyard either.”
“But your name’s on the deed,” he said, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “And I know Allen wanted everything to go to you.”
“They’re trying to say that the will’s a forgery.”
“Bullshit.” His fingers tightened around my hand. “And I know Savill Henley. He’s not going to let that stand.”
I shook my head. “He said that one’s easy enough to disprove.”
Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not all, is it?”
I shook my head again and looked down, my eyes burning with tears. I didn’t want to cry again. I felt like all I’d been doing lately was crying. Granted, I had a decent reason for it, but that didn’t mean I wanted to keep doing it. I hated feeling weak and crying made me feel that way.
“You can tell me.”
I took a slow breath, hoping to keep myself calm enough to say it. “They’re trying to have ’our marriage declared invalid.”
“Fuck,” he uttered the oath in a low voice. “How the hell are they trying to do that?”
I looked up at him and saw that his eyes had darkened to the kind of gray that reminded me of a thundercloud, the kind that threatened destruction.
“I was there,” he said. “I saw you both sign the marriage certificate. Hell, I’m one of the witnesses.”
I nodded. “They’re saying that it’s invalid within their religion and that should count for something.”
Jasper’s fingers twitched around my hand and I could feel the barely restrained anger coursing through him. He’d always kept such a tight rein on his emotions that his intensity was almost frightening. If I hadn’t known that he’d never hurt me, I might’ve even been scared.
“They’re not going to get away with this,” he promised. “I’ll go talk to Savill and let him know that I’ll sign whatever he needs me to sign, or testify or whatever.”
My shoulders slumped. “I appreciate it, Jasper, but I don’t know if I can go through with all of this legal stuff. I don’t have the strength to fight them anymore. Most days, it’s all I can do to get up and go through a normal day. I don’t even care about the money. I have a job and I know that I can at least get them to agree to let me have some of my savings since Jasper and I’ve had a joint account since we got engaged.”
“Allen wouldn’t want his family to have the money,” Jasper said. “But if it means they’ll leave you alone, I could see giving that up. But what about the vineyard? This is your home, Shae.”
“I know.” A few tears escaped and I brushed at them with my free hand. “But I’m not sure if I can stay here anyway. There are so many memories here. A part of me wants to just give it to the Lockwoods and move far away from here. Not back to Utah. There’s nothing for me there either, but maybe the other side of the country. As far from here as possible.”
“Shae,” Jasper began.
“I’ll see something that triggers a memory and I turn into a puddle of mush.” I swallowed hard and then confessed what I was truly afraid of. “But then, at least then I know I’m remembering him. What scares me is the day that I don’t see Allen everywhere. Or if I do and it doesn’t hurt.”
“He wouldn’t want you living in pain, Shae.” Jasper let go of my hand and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him.
I let my head rest against his shoulder. He wasn’t my brother and he wasn’t Allen, but he was familiar.
“I don’t want to be in pain,” I said, not bothering to wipe away the new tears. “But I don’t want to forget him either.”
“You won’t,” Jasper said. “Just because memories of him become something you can smile about doesn’t mean you’re dishonoring his memory. It just means that you can finally enjoy remembering all of those times without it hurting.”
He was right, I knew. I didn’t have any memories of my father, so thoughts of him had always been more wistful, even during times I wished he was there. But my memories of my mother had already started to become joyful rather than sad.
“I’m just so tired, Jasper,” I said, leaning harder against him. His arms wrapped around me. “I don’t have it in me.”
“Do you know why Allen kept the vineyard even though it was hours from UCLA and it killed him to be away from you for that long?”
I shook my head.
“He did it for you.”
I frowned even though Jasper couldn’t see my face.
“He never wanted to be a part of his family’s oil business because that wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted for his own family.” Jasper’s hand moved in a soothing up and down motion on my arm. “With the vineyard, he saw a chance for a new start, a legacy he could make with you, for your children. If you decide to sell the vineyard, I’ll support you in whatever way you need me, but don’t give it up to his parents. Take some time to make sure you’re thinking clearly.”
I heard what he’d said, but his mention of children twisted something deep inside me, and by the time he’d finished speaking, I hadn’t been able to hold back. I pressed my face against his chest and began to sob.
“Shh,” he whispered as he smoothed down my hair. “I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”
I shook my head, trying to tell him without words that I wasn’t crying because I was lonely. I was glad he was here, but that wasn’t the reason behind my tears. Finally, I managed to get enough of a grip that I could get the story out. How Allen and I had been planning on starting a family. How I’d spent the entire time since the accident thinking that I could be pregnant and not knowing how I felt about it. How, after the doctor’s call, after knowing I wasn’t, I knew that Allen was lost to me forever.
“Oh, Shae.” Jasper pulled me tightly to him. “I’m so sorry.” Hi
s voice broke and I knew he was crying too. Crying for his friend and what might have been.
As my tears began to subside, I started to feel a bit better. Not great, but like some of the weight I’d had on my shoulders was letting up. I wasn’t alone in my loss and Jasper would be there to give me his strength, to help me stand up to my in-laws.
I didn’t pull out of the embrace, but I tilted my head up so that I could look at Jasper to thank him.
The words were on my lips as he looked down at me, something unreadable in his eyes. For a moment, the world froze, and then he was bending his head towards me, his mouth covering mine. The hands around me tightened briefly as his lips pressed against mine.
And then I was pushing against his chest and he let me go. He practically jumped to his feet, his face flaming as he raked his hand through his hair. He stared down at me, eyes wide, and then fled without a word, leaving me with the heat of his mouth lingering on my lips.
Chapter 17
I had to admit, a few minutes after Jasper kissed me, I wasn’t thinking about my stupid in-laws and their games. For the first time since Allen had died, my mind was completely blank. And then it shifted from blank into “What the hell just happened?”
Jasper had kissed me. Jasper Whitehall, Allen’s best friend, best man at our wedding, had just kissed me.
Not a peck on the cheek or even a brush of lips. That had been a real kiss. No tongue, but a real kiss nonetheless.
Holy fuck.
The shock of it stayed with me, and no matter how much I wanted to forget it, so did the feel of his mouth on mine.
And the look of raw emotion in his eyes the moment before he’d run.
A call from Principal Sanders finally gave me something else to think about. I’d gotten a sympathy card from him and he’d come to the funeral, but he hadn’t said a word about work. Now that it was the beginning of August, I’d been waiting for the call, the one asking whether or not I’d be coming back to school. I’d appreciated the reprieve before, especially since I hadn’t been up to making a decision. I hadn’t really thought about it since then, but when Sanders called, I realized that I actually had an answer for him.
“Whatever you need, Shae,” he said. “If you need a year, I’ll hire a substitute. If you want to ease back into it, I can use you as a sub for the elementary.”
“No.” I shook my head even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “I want to come back. Full-time. Back to my classroom and the kids.”
“Are you sure?” He didn’t sound condescending, but rather like he wanted to make certain that I understood what I was getting into.
“I am,” I said. “Getting back to a normal routine is the best thing for me and not working hasn’t helped with that. It’ll be good for me to get lesson plans together, start thinking about my classroom and things like that.”
“All right,” he said. “I’m glad to hear it. You’re a great teacher, Shae.” His voice softened. “And if you ever need a break, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” I said. I didn’t add that I’d had enough of a break from school to last me a while. I didn’t need any more free time on my hands. Free time just meant more time to think and I really didn’t want that, especially now that I had something new and just as disturbing for me to obsess about.
To my surprise, and blissful gratitude, the preparation work actually did help. I was able to dodge the calls that Jasper started making the day after the kiss and ignore the texts he sent. I worked from the school rather than home, thankful they’d gotten the air conditioner working before school was back in session. Even if Jasper had thought to look for me there, he wouldn’t have done it. He respected my job too much.
For a while, I’d been afraid I’d come home one day and he’d just be there, but he apparently wanted to make sure it was okay before we saw each other, and as September grew closer, my worry about him faded. The memory of his kiss did too and I began to hope that, eventually, I’d be able to answer his call and the two of us would go back to being friends without any awkwardness. I missed him, even with the awkwardness.
As for the Lockwoods...well, that wasn’t going nearly as well. I was quickly finding out that the biggest problem with rich people filing lawsuits was that they could afford to pay their lawyers to use every trick in the book. Fortunately, coming up with the bullshit tricks seemed to take longer than it did for Henley to figure out counter measures since their claims were so completely ridiculous.
They were still trying for the religious route to say our marriage hadn’t been real, but Henley assured me that would require them to prove that Allen had been a practicing member of whatever their religion was. I knew a bit about it, but only the parts that Allen had kept as he’d become an adult was that he hadn’t wanted an autopsy or cremation. There was a possibility that the lawyers might request a search of the house for religious icons or whatever, but I wasn’t worried about that. We’d never attended any kind of meeting or had any sort of religious artifacts in the house. I thought I might’ve kept my family Bible, but I wasn’t entirely sure I even knew where it was.
The forgery issue had already been taken care of with the presentation of several notarized legal documents that proved the signature on the will was valid. Henley had even gotten a few documents of Allen's that weren’t connected to the lawyer so they couldn’t claim he’d been the one to forge everything.
Partway through August, they tried another tactic and claimed that I couldn’t inherit Allen’s trust since it was to be held for any children of his. Henley was arguing that since Allen was gone and I wasn’t pregnant, the child clause was null and void, and while it killed me that he was right, I knew it was the best thing to say. I’d even told him that they could look at my medical records to see that I’d never been pregnant. The Lockwoods, however, were filing a motion that required proof that Allen hadn’t contributed to a sperm bank at some point in his life, or that he’d fathered a child with someone other than me. An illegitimate child, once paternity was proven, would stand to inherit the trust and whatever else Allen had set aside in his will for possible children. Henley told me that he was to blame for not having insisted that Allen clarify in the will that the children be mine.
With my permission, Henley hired a team of private investigators to ensure there wasn’t any truth to their claims, but that would take time. At least it was something I didn’t have to worry about. Allen had been faithful during the time we’d been together and he’d ’always been careful about birth control. If he’d ever used a sperm bank, he would’ve told me. It was just another ploy, and after what Jasper had said about why Allen had bought the vineyard, I wasn’t about to let the Lockwoods have it.
Being back at the school was fine when the building was empty, but when the others started to come around, it was awkward for a while. Gina and I were fine since we’d talked since Allen had died, but the others had made an appearance at the funeral and that had been it. If they hadn't know what to say to me before, it was even worse now. Once they made the obligatory inquiries about my state of being and expressed the necessary sympathies again, however, things went back to normal. Basically, they ignored me and I ignored them. I preferred it that way now. I'd never been an overly social person, but I found I had less patience for acquaintances going out of their way to talk to me than I had in the past. It might've been petty of me, but I just didn't have enough strength to spread around.
I had to admit, I was more nervous on the first day of school than I had been since the first time I’d been in a classroom on my own. I told myself that I was able to handle a room full of second graders again, that I had my emotions under control, but there really wasn’t any way for me to know for sure until I was actually there.
When I walked into the classroom and saw how normal everything looked, the feeling was beyond surreal. This was my fourth year doing this. My fourth year setting up a classroom, preparing to meet my students. It was normal. The most normal thing I’d exper
ienced since the accident. Only now, for me, normal was surreal.
The kids came in together as the bus emptied, and I knew there’d be one or two stragglers whose parents would be bringing them, but it was time to see if I could do this. The moment I saw them looking up at me, some expectantly, some in fear, nearly all with wide eyes, I knew I could. They trusted me. Still at that age where they relied on adults, believed that we held all the answers, they needed me.
Being needed was what did it.
“Good morning,” I said in my best teacher voice. Clear, loud enough to be heard, but not patronizing. “Each of you has a cubby with your name on it.”
I went through the usual first morning speech, the same words I’d said last year, back when my life had made sense. Saying them again didn’t make the world better again. It didn’t bring Allen back or give me some sort of miracle solution about his parents. It did, however, make me feel like I could live again. Right now, it was for those twenty-two faces staring up at me, but it was enough. Enough to get me out of bed the next day. And the next.
By the end of the first week, I had a routine and that meant I didn’t really have to think about anything other than grading papers and basic house maintenance. Jacques assured me that things with the vineyard were going well and that I had a couple weeks before we needed to worry about harvesting. By the time I was ready to learn that part of the business, I’d be ready for a bit of a break in the routine.
Life wasn’t good, exactly, but it was at least bearable now.
Mitchell seemed pleased at how well I was doing. Henley was handling things.
But as August ended and September began, there was one nagging thing missing.
When I returned home from school the first Monday in September, Jasper was waiting at my door.
“Shae.” His voice was soft as he pushed himself away from the doorframe.
“Jasper.” My heart thudded loudly. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry.” He met my eyes, but I couldn’t read anything in his. “I’m not going to try to offer an explanation, but I will say again that I’m sorry. It won’t happen again and I hope we can continue to be friends.”