Act of Contrition

by Linda Rettstatt

  She dropped the envelope onto the desk and stared at it. What healthy, thirty-two-year-old man kept an envelope like that around? She fingered the clasp and pried it open. Three documents slipped out as she turned it upside down. The first document, stapled to blue backing, read Last Will and Testament. The next was a life insurance policy, and the third a sealed letter-size white envelope with her name on it. She reached for a letter opener and sat back in the chair, slicing the flap of the envelope open. With shaking hands, she removed and unfolded the letter.

  Jen,

  If you’re reading this letter, you’ve obviously outlived me. Or you’ve

  been snooping in my desk. I know the information here that I’ve kept from you will be shocking and hurtful. Truthfully, I did that for your sake, even though I’m

  well aware that you didn’t love me when you married me. I thought I could

  change that, but I was wrong. You tried. I tried. But we have a son, so I decided to make the best of this arrangement. You’ll see that the enclosed Will leaves everything I have to Cooper.

  I’m certain you can fend for yourself. You seem to be good at that—not needing me.

  I didn’t have Milton Sachs draw up this Will. He can contact Brent Carpenter, and

  they can hammer out the details.

  I will say this, you’re a good mother. If anything, you’re overly protective. I hope Cooper is of an age now where he can resist your constant warnings and

  become a man. I wanted to be there for him, see him graduate from college, start

  his own family. But it wasn’t meant to be. The enclosed medical report explains why.

  Jenny flipped to the last page–a copy of a medical report on Matthew Barnes. Diagnosis—glioblastoma, inoperable. She gasped. Matt had a brain tumor? She looked for the date. He’d been diagnosed nine weeks before the accident, eight weeks before she had told him she wanted a divorce.

  She turned back to the letter.

  The house remains in trust for Cooper. An allowance is provided to

  maintain the property and for living expenses. All other assets will be held in

  trust until he is of age. You may continue to reside in the house with Cooper until that time. After that, it’s up to him.

  I may sound angry. I am, but not with you. I don’t blame you. We

  both made a mistake with this marriage. I trust that you’ll continue to care

  for our son as you always have. Don’t let him waste too much time grieving over me. Give him a normal life. If you find someone, make sure they’ll treat

  him right. I don’t have to tell you that, I know. You always did put him first.

  You’re wondering why I didn’t tell you about the cancer. I’ve waited

  for nine years to see a hint of love for me in your eyes. I couldn’t bear, now,

  to see only pity.

  I’d like to end this letter by saying, ‘Love, Matt’. But I’m not sure it is—love. I don’t know what it is we had. Infatuation, maybe, at first? Not love.

  Almost friendship, but not quite.

  Take care, Jenny. Tell Cooper I love him.

  Matt

  Jenny slumped in the chair, dropping the letter as if it had burst into flames. All this time, he knew. He knew she didn’t really love him. Sadness changed to anger when she realized he had known he was dying and never told her. It explained so much from their last weeks together—his angry outbursts, the weight loss, the headaches, and the way he’d withdrawn from her, but spent hours with Cooper. He had even let Cooper sit on his lap and drive his Mercedes around a vacant parking lot—against her wishes. He tried to get in all the things he would miss with his son.

  A choked sob forced its way from her. She unfolded the life insurance policy and read through the jargon. He had taken out the policy a year earlier, prior to his diagnosis. Her eyes locked on the bottom line: Accidental death benefit - Five hundred thousand dollars.

  She returned the papers and the letter to the envelope and stuffed it into the canvas tote. Picking up the phone, she dialed her attorney.

  “Sachs and Bernstein. May I help you?”

  “This is Jennifer Barnes. Is Milton Sachs available?”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Barnes. He’s in court this afternoon.”

  “I’m only in town for a few days, and I need to see him. It’s urgent. I found something… Would you ask him to call me today, any time, please?” She gave the receptionist her cell number and hung up.

  She disconnected the laptop, wound up the power cord, and shoved the equipment into the tote bag. Perhaps the computer would offer more details about Matt’s illness and the arrangements he had made.

  When she pulled her car keys from her purse, a slip of paper came with them. She read the phone number and name—Gavin. A glance at her watch told her she was already late. A voice from inside told her not to go. What would be the point? Religion was a not a hot topic for her. She was in no shape for polite company and certainly had no intention of forming any kind of new relationship with a man. She set the note on the small lamp table in the foyer and closed the door behind her.

  Chapter Ten

  The following morning Jenny perched on the edge of the chair in front of her attorney’s desk. “Did you know anything about this?”

  Milton Sachs shuffled through the papers she had given him. “Of course not. Matt never said a word about changing his Will.”

  She dragged her hand through her hair, brushing it back from her face. “What does this mean?”

  He removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t change anything now. Matt left everything to go into a trust for Cooper, in the event of his death. But since Cooper…” He paused and flicked his eyes over her. “It means as Cooper’s next of kin, you inherit everything.”

  She bit her lip. “Why would Matt do this? Why wouldn’t he tell me he was sick?”

  Of course, she knew the answer to that question. This was Matt’s way of getting even for her having ruined his life by marrying him when her heart belonged to someone else. It was one last effort to control her.

  Milton shook his head. “I don’t know. It appears I didn’t know Matt as well as I’d thought. I’ll have to get in touch with Brent Carpenter to take care of the details of probating this Will.”

  “What if I do nothing? I’m not sure I want any of it—the house or the money.” She rubbed her damp palms on her knees. “He didn’t want me to have it.”

  “He was sick and probably angry about that. How were things going between the two of you?”

  She swallowed hard. “I had told him I wanted a divorce.”

  “When?”

  “One week before the accident. He was angry about it. We’d been fighting a lot.”

  “But these papers were drawn up months before.”

  She nodded. “I think he knew.”

  Milton narrowed his eyes. “Knew what?”

  “That I was unhappy.” She looked toward the window. “I should never have married Matt. I tried to make it work, but…”

  “But?”

  “We were starting to hate each other. It was affecting Cooper. I couldn’t let it go on. The night of the accident…” She turned her gaze to meet his. “We were arguing. Maybe if I had paid closer attention to driving.” Her voice cracked.

  “The police reported that what happened was an accident due to wet roads and poor visibility. The truck driver said your car hydroplaned. He said you weren’t going fast. You hit a pool of water.”

  “I can’t help but wonder, though.” She pulled a tissue from the box on his desk and wiped her cheeks. “What do I do now?” she murmured.

  “Let me talk with Brent and work out the details. It’s a matter of going through the legal channels to get the stocks, any funds, and the property turned over to you.”

  It was not the answer to the question she was asking, but she nodded. She withdrew her car keys from her purse. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
/>
  The attorney rounded his desk and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jen. When I had any dealings with you and Matt, you both seemed happy enough.”

  “I know. I think we had both learned to act our parts, mostly for Cooper’s sake. The last year or so, Matt lived his life, and I lived mine. I sometimes wondered if he was seeing someone else.”

  “What made you think that?”

  She hesitated. The fact that he was rarely home? That he hadn’t touched me in months? She wasn’t about to share these thoughts with her attorney. “I just wondered.”

  He kept a hand lightly on her back as he walked her to the door. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll try to expedite the processing of the Will, but if you run short on cash, I can help.”

  “Thanks, Milton. I’ll be fine. I’m working again, but I’m going to stay in Maine for a while and work from home. I have meetings here a couple of times a month, so if you need me to come in to sign anything, just let me know.”

  “I will. Take care of yourself.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  She navigated through lunch-hour traffic to the offices of Harbor Lights Publishing. She flipped open her cell phone and dialed Ashley’s number. “Hi, I’m downstairs. Ready for lunch?”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Ashley exited the revolving door and smiled as she slid into the passenger’s seat. “How did your meeting go?”

  “Milton knew nothing about the new Will. I think Matt had his business attorney draw it up because he figured Milton would question him about not telling me.” She eased the car into traffic and headed toward the harbor.

  “Is it going to complicate things for you with finances and the house?”

  “He says it won’t, that since I’m Cooper’s next of kin, everything reverts to me. It just…it makes me sick to think that things got so ugly between Matt and me.”

  “It wasn’t all your fault.”

  “Right. Nothing was my fault. It was all a big misunderstanding, resulting in an accident.”

  Ashley turned in her seat. “Hey, what’s with the attitude? You thought you could love Matt enough to make a life with him. He changed, and you changed. You both loved your son enough to try to make the marriage work as long as you could. The accident had nothing to do with that, and it was not your fault.”

  Jenny searched for an empty parking space near the Common. “I can’t deny my responsibility, though. I reacted impulsively years ago and hurt Patrick. And I ruined what I thought was a good relationship with a future. That was all my doing. When Matt asked me to come with him to Boston, I didn’t hesitate. And then, when Patrick didn’t come after me, it was easy to slip into Matt’s life.” She turned off the engine and turned to face Ashley. “I hurt Patrick, and I cheated Matt by not loving him enough, not the way he deserved.” And I killed my son.

  Ashley took hold of her hand. “Jen, will you give yourself a break? You’re human. We make mistakes. We hurt ourselves, and we hurt other people. We beg forgiveness, and we move on. Patrick made his choices. And Matt was no saint, as I recall.”

  Jenny’s throat tightened. “Who’s going to forgive me? Matt? Cooper?”

  “You, Jen. You have to forgive yourself.” Ashley squeezed her hand. “You know what? I’m not all that hungry. How about if we just take a walk?”

  “So you can convince me that life is worth living? That I’m not an evil person, and all is forgiven?”

  “No. So you can clear your head before you set out for home. I worry about you. Did you touch base with your therapist while you’re in town?”

  Jenny shook her head. “I’m crazy—is that it?”

  “You’re not crazy. You’re fragile and, like it or not, you need someone to lean on.” Ashley exited the SUV and buttoned her coat. “Come on. Let’s get a cup of coffee and some fresh air.”

  They purchased steaming drinks at Starbucks, and strolled through the public garden at Boston Common. A cool autumn breeze ruffled her hair, and Jenny pulled her jacket tighter. “Ash, I know you’re busy. You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “Don’t do this, Jen.”

  Jenny stopped and stared at her. “Do what?”

  “Shut me out.”

  “I’m not. I don’t need or deserve all this care and attention.”

  Ashley wrapped her fingers around Jenny’s forearm. “You don’t have to deserve it. You’re my best friend. I like to think I’m yours, too, and that you’d do the same for me.” Ashley motioned to a vacant bench. “Sit.”

  Jenny sat down and wrapped her fingers around the warm cup. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I seem to be saying that a lot these days. You know, I was raised Catholic. And the only thing I remember from the mass is the part where you pray, ‘Oh, my God, I am heartily sorry…’ I keep praying that, over and over.”

  “Does it help?”

  Jenny shook her head. “Nothing helps.” She took a sip of her drink. “I fell into Penobscot Bay the other day. I almost drowned.”

  “What?”

  “I crossed the bay to Cooper’s Island. The water was rough and, when I tried to climb up onto the dock, I slipped. The water’s like ice already.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I pulled myself up onto the dock. Mr. Doyle’s storage shed was open. I sat in there on the golf cart until Patrick showed up.”

  “Your Patrick?”

  Jenny let out a cynical laugh. “He’s not my Patrick. But, yes, Patrick Doyle came to my rescue. He’s still angry with me. If I thought the water was frigid, it was nothing compared to him.” She sighed. “He has a right, I suppose. We’re supposed to talk when I get back to Miley’s Cove.”

  “His idea or yours?”

  “Both, but mostly mine.”

  “Has it occurred to you that maybe he’s past all of what happened between you two?”

  Jenny stared at a narrow ribbon of steam escaping the opening in the plastic lid of her cup. She wondered if that’s how the human spirit looked as it left the body, rising to… What? Something better? “Sometimes I wish I could go back and change things. But, then, I wouldn’t have had Cooper, and I can’t imagine never having known him. He was the one good thing I did.” She bit her lip.

  Ashley tossed her empty cup into the trashcan standing next to the bench. She took hold of Jenny’s hand. “Cooper was an amazing kid. Jen, I know people say this stuff all the time, and it probably drives you crazy. But it will get easier.”

  Jenny nodded. “That’s what I fear the most. It’ll get easier, then I’ll move on, and then I’ll forget. I can’t ever forget.” She locked eyes with Ashley. “You know what surprised me the most when I fell into the water? That I fought to surface. All this time, I’ve wished I’d died in the accident, too. But when I had the chance, when all I had to do was breathe in and let the water take me, I struggled to stay alive.”

  Ashley’s eyes filled. “Oh, God. Are you sure you should be alone right now? Why don’t you stay here in the city with me for a while?”

  Jenny forced a smile. “Ash, if I was going to kill myself, I wouldn’t be sitting here now. I’d be floating in Penobscot Bay.”

  Ashley gasped. “I don’t like hearing you talk like this. It scares me.”

  Jenny dropped her empty coffee cup into the trashcan. “This is a good as it gets. I don’t have the courage to off myself. And, apparently, I don’t really want to die. That would be the easy way out. I have to live to do my penance.”

  Ashley asked, “Do you want me to take the afternoon off?”

  “No. You need to get back to the office, and I should get on the road so I’m not driving in the dark.”

  Jenny hadn’t mentioned her fear of the dark to anyone. It had been dark that night, and raining. Now, when she drove in the dark and oncoming headlights became visible, she panicked. Her heart raced, and her body tensed. She had to fight the urge to scream. It was easier to make sure she returned home befor
e dark.

  ****

  By the time she reached the cottage, Jenny’s head pounded and her whole body ached. She hoped it was just the tension of driving, but one look in the bathroom mirror revealed the truth—she was sick. She bumped up the thermostat, put water on to boil for tea and rummaged in the medicine cabinet for the thermometer. When she removed the thermometer from beneath her tongue, it indicated one hundred one degrees. A bone-rattling shiver rolled through her.

  She spooned honey into the steaming tea and carried it to the bedroom. Her throat tightened and her aloneness sliced through her. She wanted her grandma. Picking up a ragged stuffed bear from the rocker in the corner of her room to hold for comfort, she crawled into bed.

  She stretched out one arm and grabbed the phone.

  “Waterfront Diner.”

  “Hi. Shelly?” she croaked.

  “Jen? God, you sound awful.”

  “I think I have the flu. Can I ask a favor?”

  “Sure, hon. What’cha need?”

  “I’m out of orange juice. Could you run some by on your way home?”

  “I’ll do better. I made chicken soup here at the diner. Anything else you need?”

  “No, thanks. You know where the spare key is—under the windowsill on the front porch.”

  “Still? You know, one day someone’s going to figure that out and let themselves in.”

  “Well, if they do that today, they’re in for a shock.”

  “I’ll stop by around six-thirty. If you think of anything else you want, just give me a call. Now, get some rest.”

  “I’ll try, Shelly. Thanks.”

  Jenny hung up and threw an arm across her eyes, wondering how she deserved a friend like Shelly. They had been friends since junior high school. But after Jenny left Miley’s Cove, she had lost touch with Shelly. She had only seen her now and then during her summer visits back home.

  The realization that she had walked away from so many people who loved her hurt, but she was too sick, too worn out to cry. She curled around the stuffed bear and trembled.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Hello? Jen?”