Diane flicks her hand toward me. “Oh, he’ll get over it.”
“I don’t think so,” I say.
“If he doesn’t, it will be his loss.” She takes a moment to inhale some oxygen through an oxygen mask next to her bed. “I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did. I understand it has caused quite a stir in the community.”
“Well, now everyone thinks we’re madly in love. So it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been,” I say.
She pats my hand. “Will you send Michael in? I’d like to have a word with him alone.”
I nod and give her a long hug. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” I say. What do I say to a woman who is dying, knowing that this will probably be one of the last times, if not the last time I see her?
I head out to the hallway and fetch Michael. His face is as cold as ice and I shutter.
“Meet me at home,” he says. “We need to talk.” And then he’s gone.
34
I eat dinner alone at Michael’s house and just kind of wait around for him to arrive. Michael comes home right after nine o’clock. When he arrives, I’m sitting in the library, reading a book on how to clean almost anything. Not that I’m really interested in that, but I need something to distract me from my crazy life.
“She says she’s changed the deal,” Michael says.
I stand up, my heart immediately in my throat. “To what?”
“She didn’t say. Says it depends on us,” he seethes.
“On us? What does that mean?” I ask.
“Your guess is as good as mine. But, from now on, I’m going to consider my inheritance money lost.”
I feel like I just lost the battle for my dad’s life, and I begin to cry hysterically. “I’m sorry I broke my promise to you,” I say. “It’s just I can’t live like this anymore, Michael. It’s too painful.”
Michael sighs, but he’s not as angry as I thought he would be. In fact he seems very humble. “Scarlett. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I can’t blame you for wanting to be honest.”
I nod and sniffle. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’ll move out today. No use in keeping up our façade.” I begin heading for the door, but Michael takes my hand.
My heart starts beating hard. Michael wraps one arm around my waist, with the other, he caresses my cheek, wiping away my tears. Then he kisses me gently, but only once. Then he leans his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
“Good bye, Scarlett,” he says.
“Goodbye,” I say.
He takes a step back, moving out of my way. “Please take with you all your clothes.”
“I wouldn’t know where to fit them all,” I say. “Donate them to charity.”
He nods and I’m heading toward the master bedroom, with tears flowing down my face. Lucy helps me get packed, and we say farewell. She doesn’t really know what’s going on, but I tell her it’s for the best. I give her my cell number before I leave so we can keep in touch.
After having packed my bags in the trunk of my car, I head home. I think about calling Anne, but she’s at work. Then I think about heading over to my dad’s but he’s probably sleeping. I head to the kitchen, grab some tequila and pour myself a few shots. One after another, they go down, and soon, I’m feeling a lot more relaxed, not really remembering all the pain that’s in my heart.
I crash on the couch and go to sleep.
Next morning I wake up with a monster headache. All the crying and alcohol are not good for me, and on top of that, I’m feeling the most depressed about my life as I ever have. I hate myself. I hate where I‘m at, and the only one I have to blame for my woeful state is once again myself.
I hop into the shower and let the scorching water run down my body. I wish water could wash away all the crap on the inside, too.
While I’m putting my make-up on, I hear my phone ringing downstairs. I bolt downstairs and answer it just in the nick of time.
“Hello” I say.
“Scarlett?”
“Yes,” I say.
“It’s Michael.”
“Yes, I know,” I say.
“I just wanted to call you to let you know my mother passed away early this morning,” Michael says.
“Oh, Michael, I’m so sorry to hear. I don’t have the words to express,” I say.
“The funeral has been scheduled for Friday at 10:00 a.m. Could you come, and then I can also have you sign the annulment papers at the same time?”
I freeze. I didn’t think things would happen so quickly. But of course he wants to move on with his life as fast as possible. “Yes, of course,” I say. He hangs up, and I’m left to my own devices, my own sorrow, my own shame.
Michael is no good for me. Anne was right all along. He’s too absorbed in his own needs to see what I’m going through. For a moment I’m glad that things haven’t worked out between us. The worst thing that could happen is that we’d stay married, and then ten, fifteen, twenty years down the road, we’d find out that we still don’t trust each other. All that time would have been wasted, and I’m sure the sorrow then, would have been so much worse than it is now. It feels good to have that chapter behind me now. Though my heart is still a raw, festering wound, I feel good knowing where I’m going. I’m going to lose my parents’ house. I’m going to lose my car. I have no job. But I think my father will survive his cancer. I’ll have him. I’ll still have my best friend Anne, and I’ll still have my health and a new future where I can make things the way I want.
Friday is quickly here. I’m dressed in my black dress, the same one I wore to Michael and my first date. Walking into the church, I see him up at the front of the Portland Episcopal Church next to the closed casket. There’s a crowd of people surrounding him. Though he’s dressed in a really nice black suit, black shirt and dark gray tie, he looks awful. His hair, though messy, doesn’t have its usual sexy look. His eyes are red and sunken, and his cheeks are sunken, also.
I don’t quite know how to approach him, so I sit down in a pew by myself, and wait. The hundreds of people who have showed up are reverent, and are slowly making their way to their seats.
Michael sees me and raises his right hand to greet me, but doesn’t come over. The service is lovely, filled with lots of stories about Mrs. Manning and her life. She accomplished so much, but between the stories, I know there was a sea of loneliness and pain.
Michael speaks too, and though he looks strong at the pulpit, his eyes dry, I know he’s hurting on the inside.
Once the service is finished, Michael finally comes over to see me. “I have the annulment papers ready in the Reverend Summerlin’s office. Will you follow me?”
As we walk through the walkway in between the pews, everyone smiles at us as we pass them. They probably still think we’re happily married. No one knows I’m headed to fill out my annulment papers.
Once back in the office, Michael’s lawyer is waiting for us. Michael opens a yellow envelope and pulls out the papers. “He’s here to witness. You only need to sign a few places if you agree.”
I nod. “I agree,” I say. Oh, no, this is really it. We’re getting an annulment, and I’ll probably never see Michael again.
“Will you excuse us for a moment?” Michael says to the lawyer. The lawyer nods and leaves.
“I want to let you know that I’m sorry for the trust that was broken between us,” I say.
“Yeah, me, too,” Michael says, looking me in the eyes. He nears me, and I feel that pull toward him, like I always do when he’s around. Even here at this moment, I still want to be with him. Even after all he has put me through, even after all I have put him through. Our lives and actions may be dishonest, but out love is honest and pure and true.
The atmosphere in the room changes and he looks me in the eyes. There, I see caring. There I see kindness.
I feel myself letting my guard down. “Michael—”
He lunges at me and forces my hips onto the desk. His lips are hungry and str
ong, pulling me in deeper and deeper. He pulls my hair gently and bites my lower lip.
“Oh, Scarlett, if we could only start over,” he says.
I want that, too. Even after I’ve realized he’s no good for me. My body is screaming for his, and all the determination I had to start over, to figure a new way is being threatened. I start to cry. “Michael,” I say. “Please stop.”
He stops. He’s still close so I can feel his breath on my face. His familiar sexy breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He steps back. “I just wanted us to be real.”
“Me too,” I say. “Me too.” But right now, nothing is real, except for the future I have in front of me. My new, honest future. And though it looks as bleak as hell, at least it’s an honest one.
Michael brings the lawyer back in and I sign the annulment, and head home.
34
One week later, I receive a FedEx envelope in the mail. The sender says Mrs. Manning.
“Mrs. Manning?” I say aloud.
The cute FedEx guy smiles at me. “Hey, I don’t usually do this, but would you have a cup of coffee with me?”
I look at him with my meanest eyes I can muster. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” he says and smiles.
He’s cute, but I have had enough of guys. “Absolutely no way.” I slam the door in his face. Poor guy. I’m not usually this mean. Just lately.
I open the envelope and pull another large white envelope out. Inside that envelope is a letter and yet another three smaller envelopes. One says Scarlett, one says Michael and one has a PO Box address on it with a stamp. How many freaking envelopes does there need to be? I start reading.
Dear Scarlett,
I am writing this letter to you from the hospital. I just spoke with you and just had a lengthy heart-to heart conversation with Michael. You’re probably wondering why you are getting this letter after my funeral and all. If you are reading this that means I have died. There, I said it. I’m dead. I told my lawyer to mail it out ten days after I kicked the can.
I trust you came to my funeral. I hope it was worth going. I know sometimes these funerals can be so, oh what’s the word? So boring you want to kill yourself? I trust mine wasn’t on of those.
But dear Scarlett. I wanted to pay you back for all the trouble you’ve been through since you came in contact with our family. Not because I want to pay you off, but because I think you deserve it.
You may not know this, but you’ve changed my son for the better. He never knew true love until he met you. You might think I’m an old woman who doesn’t know anything about love. But one thing I do know is that my son loves you. He may not realize it yet, and might not admit it, but one day he will. My prayer is that when he does realize it that it will not be too late for the two of you.
Inside the small white envelope with your name on it, you will find a check for your half of the deal. I believe it was estimated at one and a half billion dollars. Michael always knew his numbers well. But what he didn’t know, was that I had other foreign accounts with money in them too. So enclosed you’ll find a check written to you for your half of the deal, which comes to the sum of three billion dollars. You must not tell Michael that you have the money. I don’t want him marrying you for it. There are, however, conditions you have to meet to keep this money.
Inside the small white envelope with Michael’s name on it is another check in the same amount as yours. You must not let him know that you have this, either. If you do, trust me, I will find out (yes, don’t roll your pretty eyes at me, I’ll know even from the grave) and revoke his and your entire inheritance. Please give it to him only after you two are married. Needless to say, Michael knows nothing of any of this. And in fact, he believes that his inheritance has already been donated to charity.
If Michael does not return to you within a month from the delivery of this letter, and proposes to you, I have made arrangements for his portion of the funds to be released to Make-A-Wish Foundation. Your funds will remain yours until forevermore, or revoked if my lawyer finds out you’ve told him. However, if he does propose, send the third pre-stamped envelops to my lawyer and he will hold the funds.
I hope that Michael will finally realize he loves you and see how truly special you are. I hope with all my heart, too, that you will find each other, and that Michael will get his head out of his ass.
Warm Regards,
Mrs. Manning
PS: If there are ever any grandchildren, please kiss them for me.
35
It’s been twenty-nine days since I received the letter from Diane. I’ve deposited my check and check my bank account like twenty times a day just to make sure the funds are still there.
My dad has moved home and I’m taking care of him full time. I’ve taken a part-time job as a book store clerk in the Portland Museum, making ten dollars an hour. I’m not doing it for the money. I’m doing it because I love art and books, and I love all the people I meet.
The money I received from the necklace, I donated anonymously to the Black Chapel girl, AKA my best friend Anne. She has retired now from her job as a stripper and is pursuing her college degree. I miss her dearly, because she decided to move all the way across the country to be with her parents. She too has come clean about her lifestyle. Of course her parents were shocked at first, but now, they’re working things out.
I still think about Michael a lot, but the pain has lessened a little. Okay, if I’m truly honest with myself, it hasn’t really lessened at all. But seeing my father improve has been the highlight of my life, and it helps me manage my grief so much more. The doctor says he’s progressing nicely, and that he’s responding well to the chemotherapy treatments. Maybe that’s why I needed to meet Michael, so I could find the money I needed to save my dad’s life. I find comfort in that explanation, and hope one day it will satisfy the void I have in my heart.
“I’m off to work, Dad. Can I get you anything before I leave?” I say.
My dad looks at me. “For heaven’s sake, Scarlett, quit worrying about me. I may be an old man, but I’m not completely useless.”
I smile and he smiles back.
“Okay, grumpy old man. See you later,” I say.
I head for work. It’s a busy day, just the way I like it. My life is finally calming down, and I can again start to figure out what I want to do in the future. It’s so much easier having a butt-load of cash in the bank.
While I’m at lunch at work, I see that I’ve missed a phone call from Michael. My heart starts racing and the whole rest of the day I can’t stop thinking about why he might have called me. The possibilities are endless. Does he know about the money? Does he want to apologize? I’m clueless.
After work, and on my way home, I call him back. I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack, my heart is beating so fervently. Why would Michael call me? It seems a little out of the blue. The phone rings three times before he picks up.
“Hello?” Michael says. He sounds eager.
My heart melts the moment I hear his voice. “Hi, it’s Scarlett, also known as Samantha.” I smile. “I saw that I missed a call from you.”
“Oh, yes. How are you?” Michael says.
“I’m… well,” I say, trying to sound as sincere as possible.
“I wanted to see if I could come over and discuss something with you?” Michael says.
I hesitate. Do I want to go down that painful road again? Do I want to see him, and be reminded of how much I truly miss him, and that I’m not at all over him? “I—uh—”
“It’s a good thing, I promise,” he says.
“Okay. I’m heading home from work now, and I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. How does an hour sound?” That will give me time to warn my dad that we’re having a guest come over and for me to freshen up a little, or a lot.
“That works well. I’ll be over in an hour,” Michael says.
After I hang up the phone, I speed home. I rationalize that I can definitely afford a ticket
if I get pulled over. I’m freaking out that Michael is coming over. Freaking out!
Once I get home, I kiss my dad on the cheek and then bring him a glass of water. It’s our new ritual, and I think my dad really enjoys me doting on him, even though he’d never admit to it.
“Dad. Someone is coming over to visit,” I say, handing him his glass of water.
“Who?” he asks. He’s looking particularly energetic today. It’s so good to see that the sparkle in his eyes has returned.
“An old friend. His name is Michael. Do you remember him?” I say.
“Yes. Wasn’t that the guy you were going to marry?”
The pain hits me in the solar plexus. “Yes. But we’re friends again,” I say. I haven’t told my dad too much about Michael. If I did I’d have to worry about my dad sneaking out at night to kill him.
“Oh, good. As long as you’re fine with it, Sweetie. I know how difficult break-ups can be.”
I swallow. “It was hard, yes, but I’m moving on.”
My dad nods. “Well, if you do ever need me to get my shotgun out…”
“Dad! No, that won’t be necessary,” I say. I head up stairs and change into my favorite jeans and a plum baby-t. A little lip-gloss and some more eye-shadow and mascara and I’m ready.
While waiting for Michael, I snuggle with my dad on the couch, watching Wheel of Fortune with him. My dad is the best at guessing the riddles. I keep telling him he should apply to be a contestant on the show, but he’s just not the one to be in the spotlight.
A while later, I hear a soft knock at the door. My breathing ceases. I roll my eyes at myself. Pull yourself together, Scarlett! Michael is outside the door, and you’re already breathless? Geez. Can I say desperate?
I open the door, and Michael’s standing there with a colossal bouquet of red roses. “Hi, come on in,” I say.
As he walks through the door, he hands me the flowers. “These are for you.”
When he hands me the flowers, our hands touch, and there is that unmistakable charge between us again. “Thanks,” I say. “I head for the kitchen and put them in a vase. I try not to think about how very handsome Michael looks in that black sweater with a white shirt underneath and faded jeans.
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