“No.”
“Why not? I think you should have.”
John allowed himself a gentle laugh. “I think I actually agreed with Sam, that she shouldn’t be burdened with making the choice. Or maybe I didn’t want her to even know she had the choice. I don’t know.”
“Wow.”
“I know,” John said. “I thought to tell her right after Sam died, but she was depressed for so long, that I just couldn’t. I didn’t know if this letter would help or harm, you know?”
“Yes.”
“And then, I just filed the letter away. I never expected to outlive her.” John’s voice choked. “So I thought this letter would never matter.”
“Except now it does, if you let it. You have to decide.” Kim handed the letter back to John.
John sighed, his heart heavy with indecision. “I know what I should do, Kim. And I know what I want to do, and believe me, they are two different things entirely.”
“You always do the right thing, no matter what, John. You’re a good guy.”
“I don’t want to be the good guy, Kim.” He stood up and paced. “I want Julia here, with me. In the hospital, I thought that if she didn’t pull through, the decision would be simple. I’d bury her in the plots we bought in our early years. It’s where she thought she’d be buried anyhow.”
“But?”
“But now the decision isn’t simple, because I love her so much. Isn’t that odd? I know she loved me, but she loved Sam first. And the problem here is that because I love her I want to do what I know would make her happy.”
“And in rides the White Knight again,” Kim said, with a gentle smile.
“I never wanted to be anybody’s ‘White Knight’. I just wanted to love her and have her love me back.”
“She loved you.”
“But it wasn’t the kind of love she had for Sam. She loved him first, automatically, and he didn’t deserve it. She grew to love me. That’s the difference. But I accepted what she could give me because the way I saw it, any love from Julia was better than not having her in my life at all.”
Kim spoke softly. “I think you should keep her with you. You deserve it.”
“That’s what I’d like to do.” John looked out the window. “But Julia lived her life doing what she should do, always for us. What I’m thinking is that maybe we should let her go.”
Kim stared at the letter. John noticed the hesitancy in her voice. “You know, her will states she wished for cremation.”
“I know,” John said. “We discussed our plans when we bought the plots and she told me that. I still can’t stand the thought.”
“I know. But John, if you do as she asks, you could split the ashes between here and England.”
John sat on the bed again. “I hate this conversation.”
Silence enveloped the room for several minutes in which John allowed a few tears to fall.
“John?” Kim put her arm around him. “Oh, John. I’m so sorry.”
He wiped his tears. “The kids can’t know about this. Or Bert, or Bonnie. Bert never knew about Sam.”
“I remember.” She smiled. “I was in on the scheme from the start.” She offered him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
John allowed himself a brief laugh and gave her a quick hug. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you either. You were always her best friend and you’ve been so helpful after the car accident and throughout these long weeks. I hate to do it, but I need one last favor.”
“Sure.”
John sighed, stood and straightened his shirt. “Can you help me book a flight to London?”
Chapter Sixty-Four
“Mr. Riley?”
John turned from the graves, and in the direction of the heavy British accent. He found it belonged to a man possibly a bit older than himself, certainly in better shape, with thinning reddish blond hair. The stranger wore a gray trench coat that blended into the threatening sky.
The man offered his hand. “I’m Spencer Budacker.”
John recognized him as the man he spoke to on the phone about the arrangements. He returned the handshake. “Oh, nice to meet you. I’m surprised you’re here.”
“Well, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. Julia was a lovely woman.”
John glanced around the small, country cemetery. How could he leave Julia in this place? The English churchyard sat in ruins. Overgrown wildflowers and weeds carpeted the graves, and some of the headstones sat cracked or disheveled. Dried, crackly, brown leaves blew carelessly about the ground, as if dancing on graves. The entire place appeared abandoned and uncared for.
John returned his gaze to Spencer. “You knew my wife?”
“Briefly.” The gentleman looked at the two headstones, one a shiny and new black marble, the other old, faded and weathered from many years of disregard. “I was a friend of Sam’s for many years.”
“Oh, I see.” John stared at the fresh mound of earth before Julia’s headstone. “Were you the one who sent for the priest to bless her grave? He was here earlier.”
“Yes.” Spencer said. “You mentioned on the phone she is Catholic.”
“Yeah, she is.” John looked away. “Thanks for everything.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Riley.”
“Call me John.”
“John, it is then. And you call me, Spencer, please.”
“Fine,” John said. “So how did you end up in charge of the arrangements?”
Spencer smiled. “Well, it’s a long story, but I’ve become the overseer for McTeel Manor while Mr. Barnabas lives there. He’s a friend of Sam’s and inherited it when Sam died, but he’s in his nineties you see, so he needs help. When the call came to have Julia buried in Sam’s plots, Mr. Barnabas had to sign the papers but I took care of everything else.”
Spencer and John started at the sound of someone walking up the hill. Spencer quickly said, “I just wanted to come and express my condolences.”
“As did I.” A woman’s cool and sultry voice caused them both to turn.
“Deirdre.” Spencer warmly embraced the glamorous blonde who walked up.
John knew her in an instant, although he never met her. Her famous face graced many a magazine back in the days she’d been married to Sam. Now, her many philanthropic efforts to raise money for the world’s hungry earned her the title Ambassador of the United Kingdom.
“I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss.” She laid a white-gloved hand lightly on John’s arm. “Spencer informed me you have children. How sad for them.”
“Yes, a boy who is fifteen and a girl who’s-.” he broke off, afraid to disclose Elizabeth’s age. As far as John knew, no one new Elizabeth’s true paternity. “-who’s enjoying the single life right now.”
He stood in awkward silence. What was she doing here with Mr. Budacker? And why would this woman wish to pay him condolences? Had she known Julia too?
“I’m sorry,” John said, through an apologetic smile. “But how do you know my wife?”
Deirdre waved the question away. “Oh, that’s a very long story, Mr. Riley, but to simplify things, I met Julia when she knew Sam. Now I’m Spencer’s wife.” She offered a warm and genuine smile. “Sorry you asked?”
“No,” John said. “I’m just trying to make sense of everything.”
“As am I,” she said, with a glance to the headstones. “Like you, I am having a bloody time with this, although I shouldn’t.” She linked her arm in Spencer’s. “I’m happier than ever, yet having Julia here bothers me. Are you terribly bothered by this?”
“Dee,” Spencer patted her hand. “John doesn’t have to explain anything to us.”
“Yes, of course. You’re right, darling.” She touched John’s elbow. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Riley. Can you forgive me?”
“Yes,” John said. But could he forgive himself for not wanting to leave Julia’s ashes next to Sam?
“Thank you.” Deirdre turned away. “I’ll wait in the car, Spencer.”
As she
walked down the hill, Spencer spoke. “I’m sorry, John. I tried to tell her I was taking a ride to Sam’s grave, but she insisted on coming along. Then I had to explain who you were and why you were here.”
Spencer looked around the cemetery. “Quite a devastating place, I’m afraid. The church was abandoned a year or so after Sam was buried here, but this is where he wanted to be. God-forsaken place, if you ask me. But then again, it’s far away from the maddening crowd.”
John looked at the tiny little plot where he buried Julia’s urn an hour before.
Spencer turned to him. “John, I-” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket. “I believe this belongs to you”
“What is it?” John took the papers.
“A copy of Sam’s will and such.” He paused briefly. “And a check.”
“Another God-damn letter from Sam?” John spoke under his breath. He opened the envelope and took his time reading the contents. As he finished, he stared at Spencer, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. “This is legal and binding? What did Deirdre say about this?”
Spencer glanced to where she waited next to the car. “She waived all rights to Sam’s inheritance years ago. She has no say as to whom it is bequeathed to.” He shook his head. “And to think, it was the fight over money that forced Sam to marry her in the first place.”
John studied the papers. “Holy shi-, wow.” He ran a hand through his hair. “My God, this is a lot of money.”
“Don’t forget the manor as well,” Spencer said, smiling. “You and your family have just become exceedingly wealthy, John.”
“Sam bequeathed McTeel Manor to me on this Barnabas guy’s death?”
Spencer laughed. “Just don’t get too excited about inheriting the manor anytime soon. You only get it after Mr. Barnabas kicks and the dear man has one solid ticker.”
“We can’t afford it,” John said, worry furrowing his brow. “The taxes alone on a place like that-”
“Sam left you enough to cover it,” Spencer explained.
“I can’t take this, none of it.” He attempted to hand the papers back.
“Then give it to Elizabeth.” Spencer said, refusing to take the will.
John’s heart raced, at the mention of his daughter’s name. “You know about Elizabeth?”
“Only from the will, John. Nobody else knows, and I’d never tell, especially not Dee.”
John accepted Spencer’s words as truth.
“Please accept the money, John.” Spencer said. “The will stated specifically that if you allowed Julia to be buried with Sam, the money would be yours.”
“But I didn’t know that.” John said. “I did this for Julia, not Sam.”
“I know.” Spencer’s voice was soft. “That’s what Sam wanted. He knew you didn’t know about the will. He wanted to do something for you, if you did this for him. And he knew you’d refuse the money, which is why I’m here, to insure you accept it. If not for yourself, than for your daughter and son.”
John looked at the papers again. Sam Lyons bequeathed his entire fortune to him. John thought of Julia, her father, Elizabeth and Tom. An inheritance like this would buy a well-deserved and long overdue honeymoon for Bert and Bonnie. Elizabeth could pay off her student loans while auditioning for theater roles. And Tom, when the time came, could go to the college of his choice.
“You have no option but to accept it, John,” Spencer smiled again. “I have a gun in my pocket.”
John startled but then both men laughed. John shook Spencer’s hand. “This is frickin’ unbelievable.”
“Sam really was a good guy, John.” Spencer said.
“With the exception of loving my wife,” John added.
“Love isn’t a bad thing.” Spencer glanced at the car.
“So, you married Deirdre?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve loved her all my life.”
“I loved Julia a long time, too.”
Spencer nodded. “Can we invite you over to the manor to meet Barnabas and have some tea?”
“Sure, but I’m not up on tea so much. You have beer?”
“I think we can dredge up an ale for you, sir.” Spencer grinned.
John looked back at the graves. “I suppose it’s time to go.”
Spencer placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll leave you for a moment.”
John watched as Spencer stepped down the hill to the car and Deirdre. The car door opened and a little girl about five years of age stepped out. “Daddy!” Spencer lifted the little girl up and swung her around.
“I love you, Samantha.” Spencer said, kissing her before setting her down. Deirdre reached down and hugged the little girl.
John glanced one last time at Sam and Julia’s graves. The two headstones stood together, side by side, against the gray, lonely sky.
John turned, walked away, and, with all his love, let Julia go.
The End
Linda Schmalz lives in Wisconsin with her husband, teenage son and one terrific terrier. After college she worked in health insurance for many years until the birth of her son, when she chose to stay home, raise her beautiful boy and pursue her life dream of becoming an author. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America, WisRWA and Mad City Romance Writers. In her spare time she enjoys reading, watching movies and attending Renaissance Faires.
To learn more about Linda and her writing: http://www.lindaschmalz.com/ or her blog at http://www.lindaschmalz.blogspot.com/
Other titles by Linda Schmalz available at Amazon.com:
What Dead Women Want
Carly Middleton either has ghosts in her attic or bats in her belfry, and neither option deems all that spectacular. She is apt to choose her craziness however, rather than admit that her new home in Lake Della, Wisconsin is haunted. But when hunky and handsome Mike Valentine shows interest in Carly's paranormal problem, hormones rule her head, and she agrees to have the house investigated for ghosts. When the investigation proves her home haunted, Carly calls in a psychic who discovers her housemates are two sisters from the Civil War era who refuse to leave until they get what they want; and what they want is a man, and that man is Mike. Unwilling to sacrifice her boyfriend, Carly must find someone else to seduce her dead house guests to the other side. When Hal Davenport, the abusive town menace returns to Della, Carly finds her candidate. But can she convince the ghosts that Hal is a better catch than Mike? Can Hal lure the lingering ladies close to "the light" without dying? As Carly contemplates her plan, her world becomes further complicated by a sick dog, meddling parents and the return of her ex-fiancé. Finally, when Carly is certain she's sent the ladies packing, something still seems amiss.
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