Truly Madly Yours

by Rachel Gibson

  She left the room and headed downstairs to Henry’s office to hear the reading of his will. She’d dressed for comfort in a sleeveless T-shirt dress made of soft blue cotton, and she’d shoved her feet into a pair of platform slides that she could kick off easily during the long drive ahead of her.

  At the entrance to the office, a long-time friend of Henry’s, Frank Stuart, greeted her as if he were a doorman at the Ritz-Carlton. “Good morning, Miss Shaw,” he said as she walked into the room. Max Harrison, Henry’s estate lawyer, sat behind the heavy desk and looked up as Delaney entered. She shook his hand and spoke to him briefly before taking a seat beside her mother in the front row.

  “Who isn’t here?” she asked, referring to the remaining empty chair next to hers.

  “Nick.” Gwen sighed as she fingered the three strands of her pearl necklace. “Although I can’t imagine why Henry would provide for him in his will. He’d tried to reach out many times in the past few years, but Nick threw every attempt back in his father’s face.”

  So Henry had attempted a reconciliation. She wasn’t really surprised. She’d always assumed since Henry had failed to produce a legitimate heir with Gwen, he’d eventually turn his attention to the son he’d always ignored.

  Less than a minute later, Nick walked into the room, managing to look almost respectable in a pair of charcoal corduroys and a ribbed silk polo the same color as his eyes. Unlike the funeral, he’d dressed for the occasion. His hair was pulled back, and he’d left his earring at home. His gaze moved over the room, then he took the chair next to Delaney. She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye, but he stared straight ahead, feet apart, his hands resting on his thighs. The clean scent of his aftershave teased her nose. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d called her “wild thing” the night before. She’d ignored him all the way to her mother’s house, feeling the same humiliation she thought she’d overcome years ago. She had no intention of speaking to the jerk now.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Max greeted, drawing Delaney’s attention. “In order to save time, I would ask that you hold all questions until I am finished.” He cleared his throat, squared the documents in front of him, and began in his smooth lawyer’s voice, “ ‘I, Henry Shaw, now of Truly, resident of Valley County, State of Idaho, do make and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all Wills and Codicils I have made before this.

  “ ‘Article I: I nominate and appoint my trusted friend Frank Stuart as Executor of this Will. I request that no Executor or successor in such capacity shall be required to furnish any sureties on his official bond…’ ”

  Delaney looked at a point behind Max’s head and listened with half an ear as he read the part of the will that outlined the duty of the executor. She didn’t care about executor duties. Her mind was filled with more important concerns, like her mother seated on one side and Nick on the other. The two disliked each other intensely. They always had, and the tension that filled the room was almost tangible.

  Nick’s shoulder brushed Delaney’s as he placed his elbows on the arms of his chair. His shirt grazed her bare skin, then was gone. Delaney forced herself to remain perfectly still, as if the touch hadn’t happened, as if she hadn’t felt the smooth texture of his sleeve on her skin.

  Max proceeded to the section of the will that provided for Henry’s long-time employees and his brothers at the Moose Lodge. Then he paused and Delaney returned her gaze to him. She watched him carefully set one page aside before he continued. “ ‘Article III: (A) I give and bequeath half of my tangible property and half of my estate not otherwise disposed of hereunder, together with any unexpired insurance policies thereon, to my wife, Gwen Shaw. Gwen was an excellent wife, and I loved her deeply.

  “ ‘(B) To my daughter, Delaney Shaw, I give and bequeath the remainder of my tangible property and the remainder of my estate not otherwise disposed of hereunder on the condition that she reside strictly within the city limits of Truly, Idaho, and may not leave, for a period of one year so that she may look after her mother. The subsequent year to begin upon notification of this Will. If Delaney refuses to comply with the terms of this Will, the property referred to in this Article III (B) shall pass to my son, Nick Allegrezza.’ ”

  “What does all that mean?” Delaney interrupted. Her mother’s sudden grasp on her arm was the only thing keeping her from jumping to her feet.

  Max glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the document on the desk before him. “ ‘(C) I give to my son, Nick Allegrezza, the properties known as Angel Beach and Silver Creek, to do with as he wishes, provided that he refrain from entering into a sexual relationship with Delaney Shaw for one year. If Nick refuses, or goes against my wishes in regard to this stipulation, then the above property shall revert to Delaney Shaw.’ ”

  Delaney sat rigid in her chair, feeling as if she’d been zapped with a stun gun. Heat flushed her face and her heart felt like it had stopped. Max’s voice continued for several more moments, but Delaney was too confused to listen. It was all too much to take in at one time, and she didn’t really understand most of what had been read. Except the last part forbidding Nick to “enter into a sexual relationship” with her. That part had been a slap directed at them both. A reminder of the past when Nick had used her to get back at Henry, and she’d begged him to do it. Even after his death, Henry wasn’t finished punishing her. She was so mortified she wanted to die. She wondered what Nick thought, but she was too afraid to look at him.

  The lawyer finished and glanced up from the will. Silence filled the office, and no one spoke for several long moments, until Gwen voiced the question on everyone’s mind.

  “Is that legal and binding?”

  “Yes,” Max answered.

  “So, I am to receive half of the estate free of conditions, yet in order for Delaney to inherit, she must stay in Truly for one year?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Delaney scoffed, trying her best to forget about Nick and concentrate on her own bequest. “This is the 1990s. Henry can’t play God. This can’t be legal.”

  “I assure you it is. In order to inherit your share, you must agree to the conditions expressed in the will.”

  “Forget it.” Delaney stood. Her bags were packed. She wasn’t about to let Henry control her from the grave. “I’ll give my share to Mother.”

  “You can’t. The bequest was conditional. You will receive your share of the estate on the condition you reside in Truly for one year. The estate is held in trust until after the provisionary period. In short, you can’t give your mother what you don’t have. And if you decided to reject the terms of the will, your portion of the estate will revert to Nick, not Gwen.”

  And if Delaney did that, her mother would kill her. But Delaney didn’t care. She wasn’t going to sell her soul to spare her mother. “What if I contest the will?” she asked, becoming desperate.

  “You can’t contest the will simply because you don’t like the provisions. You have to have grounds, such as lack of mental capacity or fraud.”

  “Well, there you go.” Delaney lifted her hands, palms up. “Henry was obviously out of his mind.”

  “I’m afraid the court would hold a different view. The provision has to be proven illegal or against public policy, and it is neither. It may be considered capricious, but it meets the requirements of the law. The fact is, Delaney, your portion of the estate is estimated at just over three million dollars. Henry has made you a very wealthy young woman. All you have to do is live in Truly for one year, and no court is going to consider the condition impossible to perform. You can accept or refuse. It’s that simple.”

  Delaney sat back down, the breath knocked from her lungs. Three million. She’d assumed they were talking about several thousand.

  “If you agree to the terms,” Max continued, “an adequate monthly allowance will be provided for your care and support.”

  “When did Henry make this will?” Gwen wa
nted to know.

  “Two months ago.”

  Gwen nodded as if it all made perfect sense, but it didn’t. Not to Delaney.

  “Do you have any questions, Nick?” Max asked.

  “Yeah. Does one fuck constitute a sexual relationship?”

  “Oh, my God!” Gwen gasped.

  Delaney clenched her hands into fists and turned her gaze to him. His gray eyes burned with fury, and anger thinned his lips. That was okay with Delaney; she was furious, too. They stared at each other, two combatants spoiling for a fight. “You,” she said, lifting her chin and looking at him as if he were something she needed to scrape off her shoes, “are evil.”

  “And what about oral sex?” Nick asked, keeping his gaze locked on Delaney.

  “Uh… Nick,” Max spoke into the tension. “I don’t think we-”

  “I think we do,” Nick interrupted. “Henry was obviously concerned about it. So concerned he included it in his will.” He turned his hard gaze to the lawyer. “I think we need to know the rules right up front so there’s no confusion.”

  “I’m not confused,” Delaney told him.

  “For instance,” Nick continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ve never considered a one-night stand a relationship. Just two naked bodies rubbing up against each other, getting all sweaty, and having a good time. In the morning you wake up alone. No promises you never intend to keep. No commitment. No looking at each other over breakfast. Just sex.”

  Max cleared his throat. “I believe Henry’s intent was no sexual contact at all.”

  “How’s anyone going to know?”

  Delaney glared at him. “Easy. I wouldn’t have sex with you to save my life.”

  He looked at her and lifted a skeptical brow.

  “Well,” Max interjected, “as executor, it is Frank Stuart’s duty to see that the terms are enforced.”

  Nick turned his attention to the executor, who stood at the back of the room. “Are you going to spy on me, Frank? Peek in my windows?”

  “No, Nick. I’ll take your word that you’ll agree to the conditions of the will.”

  “I don’t know, Frank,” he said and turned his gaze to Delaney once again. His eyes lingered on her mouth before sliding down her throat to her breast. “She’s pretty hot. What if I just can’t control myself?”

  “Stop it right now!” Gwen stood and pointed at Nick. “If Henry were here, you wouldn’t behave this way. If Henry were here, you’d have more respect.”

  He looked at Gwen as he rose to his feet. “If Henry were here, I’d kick his ass for him.”

  “He was your father!”

  “He was nothing more than a sperm donor,” he scoffed, then he moved to the door and delivered one last parting shot before he left. “Too bad for all of us he was a one-shot wonder,” he said, leaving the room filled with stunned silence.

  “Leave it to Nick to make everything unpleasant,” Gwen said after they heard the front door close. “Henry tried to make amends, but Nick rejected him every time. I think it’s because he’s always been jealous of Delaney. His behavior here today proves it, don’t you think?”

  Delaney’s head began to pound. “I don’t know.” She raised her palms to the sides of her face. “I’ve never known why Nick does the things he does.” Nick had always been a mystery to her, even when they were kids. He’d always been unpredictable, and she’d never pretended to understand why he behaved the way he did. One day he acted like he could hardly tolerate her presence in the same town, then the very next day he might say something nice to her, or make the boys at her school stop teasing her. And just when she would start to think he was nice, he’d blindside her, leaving her stunned and gasping. Like today, and like the time he’d hit her between the eyes with a snowball. She’d been in the third grade, standing in front of the school, waiting for her mother to pick her up. She remembered standing to one side, watching Nick and a group of his friends build a snow fort by the flagpole. She remembered how his thick black hair and olive skin had been such a sharp contrast against all that white. He’d worn a navy wool sweater with leather patches on the shoulders, and his cheeks had turned red from the cold. She’d smiled at him, and he’d thrown a snowball at her and practically knocked her unconscious. She’d had to go to school with two black eyes, which eventually turned green and yellow before fading completely.

  “What now?” Gwen asked, pulling Delaney’s attention from the past and Nick.

  “If no one contests the will we can proceed fairly quick.” Max looked at Delaney. “Do you plan to challenge the will?”

  “What’s the point? You made it clear that Henry’s provision for me was a take it or leave it proposition.”

  “That’s correct.”

  She should have known Henry would attach conditions to his will. She should have known he would try to make her take over his business, to control her and everyone else from the grave. Now all she had to do was choose. Money or her soul. Half an hour ago she would have said that her soul wasn’t for sale, but that had been before she’d heard the asking price. Half an hour ago everything had been so clear. Now suddenly the lines were blurred, and she didn’t know what to think anymore.

  “Can I sell off Henry’s assets?”

  “As soon as they legally belong to you.”

  Three million dollars in exchange for one year of her life. After that, she could go anywhere she liked. Since leaving Truly ten years ago, she’d never stayed in one place for more than a few years. She always became too restless and edgy to stay in one place for very long. When the urge to move called, she always answered on the first ring. With all that money, she could go anywhere she wanted. Do whatever she wanted, maybe find a place she’d want to call home.

  The last thing in the world she wanted was to move back to Truly. Her mother would make her crazy. She’d be crazy to stay here and give up a year of her life.

  She’d be crazy if she didn’t.

  The Jeep Wrangler slid to a stop a few feet from the burned remains of what had once been a large barn. The fire had burned so hot, the building had caved in on itself, leaving behind a pile of mostly unrecognizable debris. To the left, a blackened foundation, a heap of cinders, and shards of broken glass were all that was left of Henry’s tack shed.

  Nick popped the Jeep’s clutch and killed the engine. He would have bet anything that the old man hadn’t intended to torch his horses too. He’d been there the morning after the fire when the coroner pulled what had been left of Henry from the ashes. Nick hadn’t expected to feel anything. He was surprised that he did.

  Except for the five years Nick had lived and worked in Boise, he’d resided in the same small town as his father, both of them ignoring each other. It wasn’t until he and Louie had moved their construction company to Truly that Henry decided he would finally acknowledge Nick. Gwen had just turned forty and Henry finally accepted the fact that he would never father children with her. Time had run out, and he turned his attention to his only son. By then, Nick was in his late twenties and had no interest in a reconciliation with the man who’d always refused to acknowledge him. As far as he was concerned, Henry’s sudden interest was a case of too little too late.

  But Henry was determined. He made Nick persistent offers of money or property. He offered him thousands of dollars to change his name to Shaw. When Nick refused, Henry doubled the offer. Nick promptly told him to shove it.

  He offered Nick a share of his businesses if Nick would act like the son Henry wanted. “Come over for dinner,” as if that would make up for a lifetime of indifference. Nick turned him down.

  Eventually though, they did enter into a somewhat strained coexistence. Nick gave his father the courtesy of listening to his offers and enticements before he refused. Even now, Nick had to admit some of the offers had been pretty good, but he’d easily turned them down. Henry accused him of obstinacy, but it was more disinterest than anything else. Nick just didn’t care anymore, but even if he’d been seriously tempted, e
verything had a price. Nothing was free. There was always a tradeoff. Quid pro quo.

  Until six months ago. In an effort to bridge the gap between them, Henry gave Nick a very generous gift, a peace offering with no strings attached. He outright deeded him Crescent Bay. “So my grandchildren will always have the best beach in Truly,” he’d said.

  Nick took the gift, and within a week, submitted plans to the city to develop condominiums on the five acres of beachfront property. The preliminary plan was approved remarkably fast, before Henry knew and could raise an objection. The fact that the old man didn’t find out until after the fact was incredible luck.

  Henry had been furious. But he got over it quickly because there was something Henry wanted more than anything else. He’d wanted the one thing that only Nick could give him. He’d wanted a grandchild. A direct blood descendant. Henry had money and property and prestige, but he hadn’t had time. He’d been diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer. He’d known he was going to die.

  “Just pick a woman,” Henry had ordered several months ago after barging into Nick’s downtown offices. “You should be able to get someone pregnant. God knows you’ve practiced enough to get it right.”

  “I’ve told you, I’ve never met a woman I’d consider marrying.”

  “You don’t have to get married, for God’s sake.”

  Nick wasn’t willing to produce a bastard for anyone, and he hated Henry for suggesting it to him, his bastard son, as if the consequences were unimportant.

  “You’re doing this to spite me. I’ll leave you everything when I’m gone. Everything. I’ve talked to my attorney, and I’ll have to leave Gwen a little something so she won’t contest my will, but you’ll get everything else. And all you have to do is get a woman pregnant before I die. If you can’t choose someone, I’ll pick the girl for you. Someone from a good family.”

  Nick had shown him the door.