by Gloria Doty
***
The parking spaces were becoming scarce by the time their group arrived at the park. Chairs, blankets and food baskets were everywhere, it seemed…on the grass and in the pavilion. If the event was judged by the number of children running around, it was already a success.
***
Luke was enjoying all the food Dani and Dean packed plus what Cal and Lucy brought, while he waited patiently for the band to begin playing. A small group of children ran in front of them. When one tripped, Jace stood him back on his feet and brushed the grass off his knees.
Luke told him, “You know what I think, Jace? I think you ought to marry Dani and have lots of kids of your own, like my mom and dad do. You’d make a great dad.”
Jace and Dani glanced at each other and then everyone burst out laughing.
“Thank you for your insight on that, Luke but I suppose we should have at least one date before I ask her to marry me, don’tcha think?”
“Yeah, that’d be good, I guess. So when are you going to ask her for a date?”
Jace looked at Dani again and said, “Do you think you’d like to have dinner tomorrow night?”
She smiled and observed, “Sure. No pressure or anything.”
Blakely was striding toward Jace and seemed bent on saying something before the concert started.
He held out his hand and Jace took it. “I want to congratulate you. You pulled it off when I didn’t think you had a prayer of saving The Branding Iron. I don’t know how and I don’t care but I want you to know I’m a businessman. I didn’t want your bar just to tear it down but I saw an opportunity and I was going to take it. Since it seems it’s now on the road to being successful, I’ll leave you alone. But don’t let it slip…I’ll still be in the wings, watching.”
Jace smiled, “Maybe it was a prayer that saved it, Blakeley, or perhaps,” as he looked in the direction of his friends, “many prayers.”
***
Maggie showered and got dressed. She had to show Jace and Collier the magazine and the picture of Camille or Emily or whoever she was. She was a fraud, for sure. After she read the article, she recognized two of the men on her ‘cougar’ list were Jace and Collier. They weren’t named, of course, but she knew it was them and the dating experiences matched up. Although the one she perceived to be Jace described a pretty steamy encounter and that didn’t seem quite right to her. She wrote their names in permanent marker on the specific parts of each column so they could find them easily. Otherwise, she knew neither one of them would read far enough to agree with her.
By the time she arrived at the park, she had cooled down a bit but went in search of Jace, anyway. When she found him and the group, she made the decision to confront him with the magazine article at another time. This wasn’t the place. She said hello and moved on to join some other friends of hers.
***
Camille lay on her bed in a hotel room in Paris. Since it was Sunday, she couldn’t meet with the attorneys until tomorrow. She knew she couldn’t stay inside all day. After showering and dressing in some casual clothes, she went for a walk. Wandering aimlessly, with no destination in mind, she came to a church and decided to step inside. She slid into a pew in the very back and closed her eyes to enjoy the strains of an organ. While she didn’t understand the words, the music afforded her a sense of peace and calm that she didn’t recall feeling in her entire life. Would her life be better if she wasn’t consumed with success and also dislike for her mother? Probably. She felt comfortable and at peace when she was with Collier. He had a stabilizing effect on her and she felt that she loved him but it was too late for that now.
***
As people prepared to leave the park after the concert, there were hugs all around as the Frasier family was catching an early flight back to Texas in the morning. Jace thanked them again for their friendship and their generosity. Then he excused himself and spoke to the band members. He offered guided trail rides during the week to any of them who would like to ride for a few hours. He suggested they might need to relieve some boredom once they rested up from their weekend.
He walked with Dani and Dean to their vehicle. Opening the door for her, he asked, “So were you serious when you said you’d have dinner with me or were you placating Luke?”
She looked him directly in the eyes and said, “I will have dinner with you, Jace.”
CHAPTER 37
WHEN JACE ARRIVED at the bar on Monday morning, he was greeted by Ken, Harry and the rest of the regulars, all sitting at the same table as usual, drinking coffee and acting as if nothing changed.
“We’re here early, Jace-man, because if we got it figured right, the new lunch crowd is gonna squeeze us out. And we’re good with that.”
Jace poured a cup of coffee and sat down with them.
“It has been a ride, hasn’t it? Unbelievable. I keep pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
“Well, if you’re dreaming, we’re all in the same dream,” Ken laughed. “But I’ve got a question…I asked the other night but didn’t get an answer. How are we going to keep up the momentum?”
Jace pushed his hat back and smiled at him. “That’s something I want to talk to you about, my friend.”
Everyone at the table laughed. “Be careful. When he calls you ‘my friend’ in that tone of voice, you’re in trouble.”
Jace explained his idea of hiring Ken to be his scout for entertainment, since he knew everyone in six counties.
Ken looked serious and told him he would consider it. “It might even allow me to talk to other good lookin’ women since Maggie won’t give me the time of day,” he declared as he winked at her.
She just shook her head. “I need to talk to you for a minute, Jace, when you’re done with your conversation.”
“That sounds serious. You better go.”
Jace walked to the bar and looked questioningly at her. “Does this have to do with Larry and his availability to work?”
“He’s fine. Had a touch of the flu, I guess but he’ll be back this evening. That’s not what I want to talk to you about. Come to the office with me.”
“Watch out, Jace. She’s still after you.” That was followed by raucous laughter.
“So, what’s up?”
She placed the magazine on his desk and pointed to the picture. “She look familiar to you?”
He picked it up and frowned. “Camille? But she said her name was Emily. What is this?” he asked as he looked at the front cover.
“It’s a women’s magazine, Jace. For middle-aged women, precisely. She not only is the senior editor, she owns the damned thing. She wasn’t vacationing here…she was working. That work included dating younger men and writing about the experiences. I think this article is about you and I must confess, if it’s true, I am very jealous. And…I think this one describes Collier.”
***
Camille arrived at the offices she had been directed to on the third floor. She was ushered into a tastefully furnished suite, had a chair pulled out for her and was offered a beverage.
“Ms. Camille Desmond?” the man questioned.
She nodded and showed him her identification. She was surprised there were no other people in the room. Either Barbara didn’t have anything left to bequeath to someone or they didn’t care. She really didn’t care either, knowing she would inherit nothing, which was fine with her. She wanted nothing but the message she received stipulated she would need to accept Barbara’s ashes and they would not send them to her. So here she was.
“The first order of business is your mother’s ashes.” He indicated a simple walnut box.
“I don’t mean to be rude by interrupting but are you certain you have the correct container? Barbara would never lower her standards enough to have her remains placed in a wooden box, of all things.”
“I assure you this is the correct container. We are extremely judicious in our proceedings and have worked with this reputable crematorium for many years.”
He cleared his throat and proceeded. “Your mother specified that the box not be mailed to you but rather, that you were to come to Paris to retrieve it.”
“The next order of business this morning is the will. Since you are the only individual named in the will, there should be no contesting and we can finish this in an expedient manner.”
She tapped her foot incessantly while he droned on about the legality of certain things and then cleared his throat again.
“You have inherited the property in Montana, the stocks and bonds and a snow globe.”
She raised her hand to stop him. “Back up just a bit…a snow globe? Did you say I inherited a snow globe?”
He looked at her over the top of his spectacles. “Yes, that’s what it says. A snow globe. May I continue?”
Camille nodded and tried desperately to pay attention but her train of thought got off at the station when he said snow globe.
“All of her possessions here in Paris, including the property she owned, have been sold and the profits donated to her favorite charity, as per her instructions. I have the paperwork to verify that. And now, one last thing…” He opened a drawer, withdrew a slim mauve-colored envelope and placed it on the desk. “This is a letter for you from Barbara but you are not to read it until you’re back home in Missouri. Of course, I have no control over that once you leave this office but that’s what she wanted.”
Camille thanked him, placed the envelope into her bag, picked up the walnut box and the box containing the snow globe and walked out the door.
‘That was the most bizarre experience I’ve had in my entire life, I believe. Don’t open the envelope until I’m home? Still controlling things, aren’t you, Barbara? Even after death.’
***
She returned to her hotel, gathered her few bags and left for the airport. She’d booked a flight for St. Louis in the afternoon, knowing the meeting would most likely be brief. It was, but not for the reason she expected.
On the long trip home, she tried to imagine what the envelope contained. Probably more admonitions about how to live her life and how disappointed Barbara was with the life Camille already lived. She would honor Barbara’s wishes and wait until she was sitting on her own couch in her own living room with a glass of her own wine in her hand. Perhaps a bottle, instead.
She took a cab home from the airport and was perplexed to see another cab at the curb.
She had to laugh when Will got out and rolled his bags up the front sidewalk. She startled him when she called out, “Isn’t this a coincidence? Both prodigals return at exactly the same time.”
CHAPTER 38
AFTER UNPACKING AND getting comfortable in her pajamas, Camille poured the glass of wine and curled up on the couch with her legs tucked under her. She was extremely tired and debating about reading the letter tonight or waiting until morning when she might be more able to function.
Will came into the room and sat down next to her.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Beyond exhaustion, Will,” she admitted, laying her head on his shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about the last few months?”
“Maybe tomorrow. It would require too much energy and emotion right now. How about you?”
“I’m not sure I can even put my feelings into words. Something happened while I was gone. I believe I’m a different person in several areas of my life but I’m still assessing the situation.”
She chuckled at that. “Yeah, me too. I forgot to tell you…Barbara died.”
He pushed himself to a sitting position on the edge of the couch so he was looking into her face. “You forgot to tell me?”
“It’s been something I had to come to terms with and I don’t think that will fully happen until I read her last instructions to me.” She held up the letter she had laying on her lap.
Will sat back and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, Camille. I wish I could say I liked her, but that would be a lie. However, I do love you and I don’t want you to hurt.”
She lifted the flap on the envelope and withdrew several folded sheets of paper.
“Will you stay with me while I read this?” she asked.
“Of course…and when you get to the part about how you made a huge mistake when you married me…I’ll plug my ears.”
My dearest Camille,
I know you already think this letter is a fake if I started it with calling you ‘my dearest’ but I assure you it is real. This dying business does strange things to a person, including making me look back at my life with a totally different perspective. It’s a pity we can’t see things as clearly through healthy eyes as we can when they are clouded with the knowledge of our impending death. That’s enough about my demise; I have many things to tell you.
You came into my life at a very inconvenient time for me. I never, in a million years, believed I could conceive…doctors told me it was impossible. To say I was not prepared to be a mother would be expressing it mildly. It didn’t help to have forty-eight hours of labor. You wanted to do things your way from the very beginning, including exiting the birth canal. Your way, your timing. From birth, you fought me on everything: what to eat, what to wear, which toys to play with…and you weren’t a rebellious teen at the time…you were a toddler.
Our relationship was always the ‘oil and water’ type. You may have believed my sending you to boarding schools, summer camp and every other type of learning experience was for your education, when in reality, it was for our preservation. I always believed the best way to be your mother was to be an absent one.
My mother, your grandmother, had amassed a small fortune publishing ‘Mavis’ Mag.’ I reaped the benefits but hated the magazine. I hated it for two reasons: my mother was totally engrossed in the publication and had no time for me… and as I became older, it represented the world I was expected to embrace: late marriage, becoming a grandmother, employment, retiring spouses, how to dress as a middle-aged woman…all concepts I abhorred.
When you met William and immediately wanted to marry him, I fought you. I had nothing against him personally; I simply didn’t think it was a good idea for you to get married and because I expressed those thoughts, you did the opposite and married him. I’m certain my meddling and interfering was responsible for your divorce but I wasn’t sorry it happened.
When I refused ownership of the magazine and your grandmother offered you the opportunity, I was sure you didn’t possess the experience or toughness to handle it. I was wrong. I saw you were doing an outstanding job. Mavis’ Mag was gaining readership and sales despite my best efforts to derail your success.
Camille, I had many contacts in the publishing world who kept me informed about you and your life. I saw your job becoming all-consuming. You had no life, no family, no friends outside of work and no interests or hobbies. It was going to kill you and to what end? So your tombstone could say, SHE OWNED A MAGAZINE?
I initiated the hostile takeover a few years ago. I won’t go into all the details but it would have succeeded if Will hadn’t done a bit of insider trading which forced my contacts to back off. I had my attorney threaten you and Will with charges and collusion. I never had him actually file the charges. All of this was done without using my name so you would never know. However, I don’t want you to live in fear of being prosecuted any longer so I’m telling you. I wanted desperately to save you from yourself.
Camille stopped reading and looked at Will. “I can’t even think of enough expletives to say right now.”
Will was laughing so hard, he nearly choked. “She was quite the manipulator. Wow. I never suspected it was her.”
“How can you find any humor in this?”
“The humor is in the fact that I chased those damned legal papers you kept in your safe all the way to Montana.”
“Is that why you tried calling me?”
“Yes. I wanted the combination to
your safe. I needed to read those documents from the attorney to know if the statute of limitations was up before I applied at the firm in California. I finally decided to take my chances and now…with this,” he pointed to the letter…”there were never any legitimate charges anyway. How many years have we waited for the shoe to drop?”
Camille shook her head. “If she was so worried about my mental state, what did she think having jail time hanging over my head was doing to it?”
She continued reading: I know you don’t need my Paris house or my furnishings, so as I’m sure the attorney told you, I’ve left instructions for them to be sold and the proceeds donated to charity. The only things I’m leaving for you are some stocks and bonds, the house in Montana and the snow globe and there’s a reason for each one.
You never liked what I purchased for your Christmas gift regardless of what it was. I spent a lot of money to get the right things only to fail year after year. One year, I decided I was done trying. I bought the cheap snow globe and stuffed it in a gift bag. You pretended to hate it, but I saw you turning it over again and again. I’ve kept it to symbolize the one and only time we agreed on something. I thought perhaps you would enjoy having it…perhaps not. It’s yours now, do with it what you want.
I only spent a few weeks each year at the Montana house but I always felt peaceful and grounded when I was there. It gave me comfort and a perspective on my life I couldn’t attain anywhere else. The last time I was there, I had recently been told I didn’t have too long to live. I sat on the deck and made a conscious decision to not do a damned thing about it. I chose to fill my remaining years, months, weeks or days with as many of my favorite activities as I could. I did not tell you or anyone else except your father. He was always a praying man, which I scoffed at then, but I asked him to pray for you, Camille, not for me.