The Eyes Have It

by Julie Allan

  “Why, yes, Tommy,” answered Aunt Dorothy, although I do plan to make a substantial withdrawal in the next few weeks as my best friend Maggie and I finalize our plans.”

  “George would definitely approve,” replied Mr. Lee as if he knew exactly what Aunt Dorothy was referring to. Lizzie felt a tinge of jealousy and bewilderment as she realized she was in the dark about a lot of things. What plans could Aunt Dorothy have with Maggie and what did she consider to be a substantial amount? mused Lizzie.

  It was obvious to her that Mr. Lee had been involved in the managing of Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy’s affairs for a long time and he was trusted with that responsibility. He also seemed privy to what Aunt Dorothy planned to do as she adjusted to her new role of widow. Why hasn’t Aunt Dorothy trusted me with this knowledge? Why did Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy hide their affluence from me? Questions began to swirl in her mind again. Did they really hide it, or was I so self-absorbed I never noticed. For certain she had never thought to ask, and it would have seemed poor manners to inquire even if the thought had crossed her mind. Still ten million dollars! Uncle George must have been a master at investing. He certainly had been a master at saving.

  Turning to Lizzie, Mr. Lee gazed at her with genuine affection and said, “Lizzie, we have several items of business to discuss. The first is moving you forward in your divorce from Mark. He signed the legal separation papers and they are ready for you to sign, as you know there will be a one year waiting period. If you want to go after him for his infidelity ... we can seek a financial settlement. I did some preliminary research and I have discovered his so called fledgling law practice is clearing him a six figure salary.”

  “WHAT!” Lizzie practically choked on her words. “That son of a ...” and she glanced sheepishly at Aunt Dorothy.

  “... Of a wicked witch” finished Aunt Dorothy.

  “To think I worked that boring job to pay our mortgage and cover our expenses. Hell, I even rinsed out Ziploc bags to reuse and take my lunch in.” Lizzie ranted. How did he hide his finances from her, his wife! How was I blind to it all? Lizzie felt her brain ache with the pressure.

  Aunt Dorothy gently laid a cool hand against Lizzie’s cheek, “Child, the past is gone, today is here and the future is what we make of it.” Aunt Dorothy had been saying that to her for years, every time she had imploded over a real or imagined wrong.

  Lizzie took a deep breath and looked directly at Mr. Lee, “Mark is my past and the sooner we make that fact legal the better. I left with all that was of value to me and I don’t want to drag these procedures out. He can keep his six figures and his politically connected girlfriend. I want a clean break and a fresh start.”

  “I am tickled pink to hear that,” said Aunt Dorothy, “So, Tommy, I think it is time we let her in on some of the other business at hand.”

  “Ah, yes, so as you are already aware in the event of both Dorothy and George passing the entire Long estate would pass to you, and as Dorothy is still alive, that day will God willing, be far in the future. However at the time of your parent’s passing a small estate and a life insurance pay-out were held in your name and to be managed by your Uncle George, and as you have gathered from the revelations this afternoon, combined with a careful lifestyle and a gift of making investments grow, that modest sum has bloomed into a significant amount.”

  Lizzie interrupted, “I thought that money had been spent to raise me and pay for my education? How come when I married Mark, Uncle George did not give me the funds then? Did he not trust me?” The questions spilled from her.

  “Perhaps I should answer that,” Aunt Dorothy said in a soothing voice. “You see child, your Uncle George and frankly myself as well, we found Mark to be ... to be, well a little lacking in character and we were concerned he would find a way to separate you from your money. We kind of knew or at least hoped that one day you would realize the kind of man he is and well, divorce him like you are doing now.”

  Lizzie stared at Aunt Dorothy in disbelief. “How come you never said anything? How could you stand by and watch me marry Mark?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t our place to chart your path. You came home from college and proclaimed how perfect he was and how much you loved him and described your future life with him with such certainty we knew you would not listen to us, but we did know we could protect your interests and had it worked out eventually we would have given you the funds,” Aunt Dorothy answered assertively.

  Lizzie sat back in her chair and tried to let the overload of information sink in. “Just how much is this significant amount?” she asked.

  “In the ballpark of three and a half mill, give or take a few thou. You should know, legally, George had discretion to hold and manage these funds for you until your thirtieth birthday at which time they would have been released to you.”

  Lizzie felt dizzy and hot. Aunt Dorothy handed her a fresh bottle of water and one of her ever-present hemstitched hankies. It was a little more than Lizzie could absorb. “I think I need some air, when we finish here I am going to head out and take a long walk on the beach if that is okay with you, Aunt Dorothy?”

  “That’s a fine idea, but you will need to drop me back at the house first.”

  “I need you to sign the separation agreement before you leave, so sometime next week we can sign the financial documents turning the funds over to you. Although I would advise you to have them managed as they have been and use them as you need them. The separation agreement needs to be in place first to protect you from Mark making any claims on your financial windfall.” Mr. Lee handed Lizzie a pen.

  “Fine,” Lizzie said tersely and snatched up the pen and with a flourish, signed the papers.

  As they made their goodbyes, Mr. Lee hugged Lizzie and whispered in her ear, “George and Dorothy have always had your best interests at heart. Go easy on Dorothy for keeping all this from you.”

  Lizzie gave him a weak smile and replied, “I will.” “Now, Tommy, you need to come by next week to have supper with us. We have one more matter to discuss and no worries, Lizzie, this matter has nothing to do with decisions made in the past. But rather a plan for the future.” And with that Aunt Dorothy turned on her heel and headed out to the car.

  Lizzie knew the sooner she got Aunt Dorothy home, the sooner she could head out to the Isle of Palms and take that walk at the beach. She would need to sort through all Aunt Dorothy and Tommy had thrown at her this afternoon.

  When Lizzie and Aunt Dorothy pulled in the driveway, Aunt Dorothy reached out her hand and gently laid it on Lizzie’s arm. “Lizzie, I know the information you heard today has you confused and possibly made you a little angry with Uncle George and myself, but you must know how much we love you, and that all our decisions, right or wrong, have always been guided by that” Aunt Dorothy said.

  Her eyes welled with tears and Lizzie leaned over to give Aunt Dorothy a kiss on the cheek. “That is something I have always been sure of,” she replied.

  Lizzie got Aunt Dorothy settled, took the dogs out, and then changed into shorts and a tank top. Slipping on her favorite flip flops, she headed out to the Isle of Palms; she needed the sound of the surf and the feel of the sand at her feet to help her sort through the hurricane of thoughts that refused to quiet down. The beach¬— another reason to love the lowcountry, another reason to be glad to be back home.

  She took the Ben Sawyer Bridge onto Sullivan’s Island then turned left, passing many of the charming beach cottages that had survived storms big and small. She crossed Breach Inlet and smiled as she spied the great expanse of ocean on one side and the Inter-coastal Waterway on the other. This took her on to the Isle of Palms and she could take the connector home. It took some time to find parking along the business district strip as the summer season was in full swing, finally getting a spot near the Windjammer. She fed the meter begrudgingly, remembering when the parking was free. Taking her keys and a
bottle of water she headed out to the sand.

  Chapter Four

  Lizzie plopped down on the sand and glanced back the way she had come. She sat her flip flops down next to her and sighed. She had parked down near the fishing pier and walked all the way down to 34th Avenue. It was going to be a long walk back to the car. There were a few families playing on the beach, most likely vacationers renting the houses along this section of the Isle of Palms. She found herself feeling a little wistful as she observed a young mom coaxing her toddler to explore the surf as the water came in and pulled back in a rhythmic pattern.

  She had wanted a family so badly. She and Mark had many an argument about when to start a family. Looking back she could see he kept putting her off because he was actively looking for someone more suitable, someone more successful or someone politically connected and most likely wealthy, to be the mother of his children. Thank goodness they had not had any children. She could not imagine having to be tied to him forever, or even how those children would turn out with his alternative set of values, so different from the ones she was raised with. Her mind quieted and she brought her focus back to the water.

  The few surfers sitting on their boards beyond the breakers, were patiently watching the swells. She could tell they were locals. How did she know? It had been just a decade before when she would have been among them. Isle of Palms was not known for surfing like the washout on Folly Beach and to serious surfers the wave action on Isle of Palms was laughable, but for Lizzie some of her most idyllic summer memories as a teenager had been hanging out on her board with Bennett and their friends riding the baby waves and believing life would always be that easy. Of course there were times, especially if a hurricane lurked off shore that the waves could grow to be quite powerful. At those times they would come out seeking the thrill of the challenge despite their parents’ fears of the danger the pre-storm waves brought.

  Now as Lizzie reflected on those days she realized her life had become like those challenging waves fraught with riptides and she longed to return to the gentle swells of happier times. Today the surf was one to two feet and the sound of the breakers was soothing, like a white noise machine.

  She forced her mind to turn to the end of her marriage. How could Mark have been so dishonest with me? He had hidden his income and had manipulated her. Not just since law school, but if she was honest with herself since the day they had met as undergrads. She had been swayed by his swaggering self-confidence, which she now recognized as pure arrogance. He had seen in her someone who would put his needs first. Wasn't I raised to care for others? When did that come to mean I had to deny my own desires? How did I get to this place? Surely there had been some happy times.

  But as she thought back, even the so called happy moments had been marred by his arrogant and demanding ways. At their own wedding he had been more concerned that the photographer captured the “right” guests than interacting with her friends and family. It was not just the end of her marriage that weighed heavily on her mind. How could I have not known that Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy were so financially stable? She had just made assumptions based on what she had observed, how they had lived their lives.

  SMACK, Lizzie’s brain registered the truth of the matter—she was guilty of assuming and she could hear Bennett saying, “You know assume makes an ass out of u and me.” Had he been aware of my shallow tendencies even way back when? The questions continued to whir through her like the offshore wind that buffeted her skin. How come Uncle George never told me his concerns about Mark? I would have listened! No I wouldn’t have, she admitted sheepishly. I was so sure!

  Apparently the truth of how she came to be in her current circumstances rested squarely on her shoulders. That was what galled her the most—had she just looked a little deeper, relied on the values instilled by Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy, her life would be entirely different. She heard the echo of Aunt Dorothy in her mind, the past is past, the present is here and the future is what we make of it.

  Maybe to turn things around she needed to get away from dwelling on the past. Some questions she needed to ponder and face the hard answers, but wringing her hands over what was done would not help her move forward. What would her life look like had she made other decisions? For one thing she would not have married Mark. She would have returned to Mount Pleasant after college, she might have even married Bennett and started a family. That thought made her face feel hot. She definitely would have pursued a career of her own interest, something that would have fed her soul. That was definitely something she could change moving forward. She also couldn’t deny her work in the business world would make her savvier if she decided to pursue her own business. So she could not write off all her experiences during her marriage as being a waste.

  She began to formulate a vision of her own business. She could see cooking and baking, incorporating in the abundance of food that came from the farm and the sea right here in her own community. She would need to talk her ideas over with Aunt Dorothy. Maybe she should call M.A. her childhood friend officially named Mary Ann, but her close friends and family had long ago shortened it. With Lizzie in Greenville and M.A. in Richmond along with her husband, daughters and nursing career, they had drifted apart. No ... she was feeling too vulnerable to call M.A., sure that M.A. would not understand. After all she was happy, she had children, and she had a career she loved.

  Lizzie stop it, you are self-doubting again, what did you let Mark turn you into? She chided herself. One thing M.A. was not was judgmental. But she had not even called M.A. after Mark had announced he wanted a divorce. Nor had she called her when she had learned about Uncle George. Why was that? It was not because she did not want to share her life with M.A, it was more that she was in shock. Lizzie had been on autopilot. She wasn’t even sure how she had managed to get out of Greenville with all her important possessions. After the funeral, she had wallowed. She was sure M.A. had heard what had happened so why hadn’t she called? She did send Aunt Dorothy a beautiful hydrangea and a loving card addressed to them both. Maybe this week she should try to call. It would be good to talk things over with her.

  Lizzie felt cold despite the warm breeze that stirred around her. She liked to think it was Mark’s fault that she was isolated from her friends but the truth of the matter was she was equally to blame. She could have maintained her friendships despite Mark’s efforts to leave them behind. She could have stood up to his snide remarks about the important people in her life. Somewhere along the way she had lost her backbone. She could not pinpoint the exact moment, it had been a subtle manipulation on Mark’s part, but she had let it happen. She felt anger stir up within. What was that song by Sting, which had that line ... “she can be all four seasons in one day.” Lizzie’s barometer fluctuated from sadness to anger, to confusion, to giddiness. It was mentally draining and she needed to find a way to stabilize things soon.

  She dug her toes into the wet sand and became aware of a shadow blocking out the sun. Shielding her eyes with her hands she looked up to see Bennett standing there holding his surf board, glistening from the salty drops that clung to his skin.

  “Hey Lizzie, should-a brought your board, it would be like old times.”

  “If only it could be that simple, to go back to that time I mean, she answered.”

  Bennett sat down in the sand next to her and without even saying a word somehow he prompted Lizzie to spill her secrets, just like he had done when they were kids. She talked for the good part of an hour and Bennett just listened as she told him all about Mark and how their marriage was ending and why, the surprises she had learned at Mr. Lee’s office about Uncle George and Aunt Dorothy and even the doubts she had about her own judgment and confusion about what to do now.

  When she’d finally been quiet for a few minutes Bennett spoke, “Well, the way I see it Lizzie, you have a rare opportunity. This is a chance to make a new life for yourself and with little bag
gage from your mistakes. You don’t have kids and you have funds to pursue your dreams. All you have to do is figure out what that dream is and this time remember to be less dazzled by the packaging and pay more attention to the content.”

  Lizzie felt her face grow hot as she listened to Bennett’s judgment. Who was he to lecture her about being successful and accuse her of being shallow? Well, okay so she had come to that conclusion herself, but it was somewhat more painful to hear it from someone else.

  Lizzie found she could not look Bennett in the eye, which was a shame for had she had the courage she would have found genuine affection looking back at her, giving her support and willing her to succeed in getting her life back together. Instead she scrambled to her feet and mumbled she was late getting back. She quickly started back towards the fishing pier and for a long way she could feel Bennett’s eyes burning into her back, imagining his scorn for her choices, not realizing his relief that in fact she had finally come to her senses.

  The walk back was indeed long and she distracted herself with people-watching as she moved along. The beach was definitely a place where people let it all hang out. She saw corpulent souls in bitty pieces of Spandex. There were shapely folks who flaunted what they had. All looking content with life. That was the balm the beach gave—it didn’t matter what life was like off the sand, on the sand you were free, transported back to sandcastle and Popsicle days. The endorphins from the sun and the soothing lullaby of the waves was healing. She found herself imagining lives for these strangers that made her own look fairy tale worthy.

  Despite her heavy mood she found herself smiling. She had walked and played on this beach since before she could remember and she was back here with no reason to leave. Maybe Bennett was right—maybe she should focus on the good fortune her upheaval had actually revealed. She resolved to look forward. Bennett ... he had sat and listened to her like old times and her heart ached as she thought of the friendship they had lost when they had ended their romance. Maybe the friendship was salvageable? It was a comforting thought.