by Rimmy London
Abby’s eyes burned; her throat closed. She fought to keep her composure, but her heart had been ripped from her chest. The mother that screamed, and abandoned, and shut herself away. The awful childhood she’d endured was the effect of an inner battle left unchecked. Never in her life had she considered this could be the case. She’d blamed the drugs and her mother’s poor choices, but to suddenly see her from this angle was a tragedy she hadn’t been ready for.
Her eyes were quickly welling up, and she tried to breathe quietly through her tears, wiping them away and blinking further moisture from her eyes.
Chase’s hand had settled on her arm, but to look at him would mean losing it completely.
Mr. Jeffreys paused a moment and gave her a kind smile before continuing more gently.
If there was one thing I could change in my life, it would be to get Ellen to a doctor. One who would be able to understand and help her. I truly feel she did the best she could. My heart breaks for you and what you must have endured, but I couldn’t let this truth about your mother die with me. I’m deeply sorry I was never allowed into your life. Your third birthday was the last time I saw you. Your dark curls were short and untamed and utterly beautiful. I held you and gave you a pink balloon. Perhaps you’ll be able to find this memory buried inside. But even if it’s lost, let me assure you my love does not diminish even from the gates of Heaven. I’m a determined woman and vow to watch over you for the duration of your life until we can meet again in the life beyond.
My deepest love, dear Bee,
Sharalyn
With a mighty breath, Mr. Jeffreys seemed to have usurped considerable strength. He held the letter in his hands, looking down at it for a moment in silence. When he did look up at Abby, she could see a hint of regret in his eyes.
“I apologize for this, Ms. Abigail, but again… I am to follow her wishes.” He stood from his chair and walked to the fireplace, settling the fragile paper into the flames.
Abby flinched. She wanted to scream. To snatch it out of the flames and stomp them off each precious word. But she could only watch horrified as the page was quickly devoured, crumbling into ash amidst the deep blue belly of the fire.
Chapter 6
Chase had never seen such a haunted expression on Abigail before, as if she’d been thrown into the fire herself. He swallowed the tightness in his throat, working to calm the sudden overpowering emotion.
“I’m so sorry,” Mr. Jeffreys repeated, returning to his chair. Abigail had yet to tear her eyes from the fire, and he waited politely, straightening a small leather book on the desk in front of him and stacking a few pages together.
When Abigail's gaze did finally wander back, he nodded softly. “Let’s continue, if you please.” He spoke quietly, as if guiding them carefully along a process he’d completed dozens of times before.
Chase admired his skill and compassion immensely.
“I know it’s hard to lose something like that,” Mr. Jeffreys said, “but hopefully this will be of some consolation.” He handed Abby the leather-bound book. “This is a journal of Sharalyn’s. She wanted you to have it.”
Abby held the journal in her hands, gazing across the cover. But she didn’t open it. Instead, she set it carefully on her lap.
“And this”—Mr. Jeffreys held up two pages together—“is a writeup of everything Sharalyn possessed, and what she sold off. She didn’t want anyone to be left with material possessions, besides the journal. So, she made sure it was all sold and consolidated into two separate accounts.” He handed one page to Abigail and one to Chase. “These are copies, one for each of you. If you’ll look across the top, this is the account that will be transferred into your name in the next few days.”
Chase’s mouth went dry as he gazed at the number. 1,000,000. It was a lot of zeros. He glanced at Abigail to see her face had frozen as well.
“It is an exceptional number, but you may notice it’s not quite the amount we told you in our letter. And that’s because of the second number. If you scan through all the chatter to the bottom… the second number brings you to a total of 200 million.”
He stopped to sigh and lean back in his chair, glancing at the fire. “This second number is conditional, and will come to you in increments of 10 million per year… after you qualify for it.”
Chase’s head popped up at the same time as Abby’s. He could see a hint of alarm on her features.
“Qualify for it?” she asked, looking back at Chase.
Chase winked and nodded his encouragement. Whatever it was, he was sure she could do it.
“Well.” Mr. Jeffreys fiddled with the lock on his briefcase and opened it. “You’re not exactly allowed to know the details. Your aunt had a great spirit for adventure. You’ll be given eight different challenges. After which, if completed, you will qualify for your inheritance. The first sum will be given immediately.”
“But what if I can’t do it?” Abigail asked.
Chase could see the stress on her features.
Mr. Jeffreys held a hand up. “Now, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be able to accomplish these, especially because of what’s at stake.” He was still looking into his briefcase, his eyes scanning across what Chase could only assume was a list of challenges. When he looked up again, he nodded. “Yes, you will. Don’t worry, okay?”
Abigail sighed. “Okay,” she mumbled.
The door opened, and the secretary walked in, smiling widely. She placed a paper on the desk and reached out for Abigail’s hand, shaking it warmly, and then Chase’s. “Congratulations,” she said.
“Thank you,” Chase answered. But Abigail remained silent. Her jitters and excitement had turned into something closer to despair.
They left the office soon after. Chase’s thoughts were a blizzard of speculation and awe, and Abigail seemed to feel the same. Perhaps a little less exuberant. It wasn’t until they were in their hotel suite that she finally let it out.
“I can’t believe this,” she groaned, walking to the window.
London was glittering with lights now, set inside a pale outline of cityscape.
“I have no idea what she’s thinking, or what she has planned. And when did she even create these challenges? What if it’s not possible to complete them anymore? What if the building she wants me to skydive off has been torn down?” She shook her head with a dry laugh at her reflection in the window.
It wasn’t the way Chase had expected their day to end. He’d pictured himself taking her out to celebrate somewhere exclusive and ridiculously expensive. “I know it’s not what you’d expected, but Abby…” He waited for her to look up from the chaise lounge she’d slumped into. “You’ve just inherited a million dollars. That’s incredible!”
Her lips lifted from their downward pull. She rested on one elbow, nodding thoughtfully. “It is incredible, don’t get me wrong. It’s just… you know me.”
She rolled her eyes at herself, and although Chase thought he knew exactly where her conversation was headed, he waited for her to continue.
“The second I went from wanting that house, to realizing I might be able to get it, I let myself go crazy with the possibilities.” She sighed. “One million isn’t enough. And what if it's sold before I can complete these silly challenges and get the rest?”
Chase nodded back at her. The fact that she was reasoning with herself lifted his spirits. Maybe she would back out on the house without him having to suggest it. With how the inheritance was tied up, he couldn’t imagine her taking such a big risk without the cash on hand.
“There’s no point in worrying about it now, just try to let it go. Take it step by step,” he said. “Time will often reveal things in ways that are otherwise impossible. Just give it a little time.”
“Hmm,” she mused, “I like that.”
He used to hold back his more Yoda-style advice from people, sure it was too flowery and abstract. But it just seemed to flow from him naturally, and when he met Abigail, she’d been thrille
d with his habit of poetic advice. He’d never felt more free to be himself… and he’d never been so shocked to find out that someone could adore it.
She was still smiling at him, and he joined her on the chaise lounge, gathering her in his arms and enjoying the way she wrapped herself into his embrace. Their relationship had been close like this for nearly a year, and Chase couldn’t imagine ever being apart.
In the beginning, when he had trouble turning off his therapist's mind, he’d been worried about her. The way she constantly looked for something new—something better. She went from one job to the next, and Chase feared she would someday trade him in for a newer, shinier version. He’d counseled enough patients with the very same problem, and they rarely stayed with their partners for more than a few months. Not one of them made it to a year.
And yet here they were, approaching a year and still very much in love. He tried to swallow the doubt away completely, telling himself that he’d misjudged her. The rough childhood she’d been raised with had left its scars, but perhaps this wasn’t one of them. He had a sudden thought of the ring he’d wanted to buy her. A brilliant fairy-tale diamond. He’d been so close, but that was the day she’d admitted she didn’t like her job, that she wanted something new. And he’d lost his nerve. But now he wished he had it in his pocket.
“You’re right, of course,” Abigail said, lifting her head to kiss him. “I guess I was just so set on rushing forward with everything. Thank you so much for understanding.” She smiled with an energy that glowed in her cheeks. “Should we go get something to eat?”
Chapter 7
They’d been home nearly a week, and Abby had hardly seen Chase for a few minutes. His double workload was a result of their last-minute trip to London. Abby loved him for that—she could always count on him. And the way he’d soothed her about the house at Poppyridge Cove, when she felt so lost, had allowed an idea to sprout in her mind.
She stood at the same realty office of the man she’d first spoken to about it. He seemed to know quite a lot about the property, so he was a natural choice.
His black eyebrows lifted in recognition when he saw Abby. She brought her hand up in a small wave.
“You,” he said, surprised. “Well, hello again. Abigail Tanner, is it?” he glanced down at an appointment book.
“Yes, that’s right. We spoke at the sourdough bread store.”
“I remember.” He nodded cheerily. “What can I do for you?”
“Well.” Abby rubbed her hands together, feeling nervous. “I would like to purchase the property, but I don’t know if my idea will work. I want to run it by you first.”
“Okay,” he encouraged, nodding and clasping his hands together.
“I’ve, uh, inherited a bit of money, although it isn’t enough. I’ll be receiving more, but not for another eight months.” She twisted her bag in her hands. “What I’m wondering is, would I be able to secure a loan on the premise of receiving this additional inheritance in the future? With the one million I have, I thought maybe half of that could go toward a down payment, and the other half could be used to begin repairs?”
She paused, waiting for him to jump in at some point. But he seemed to still be thinking it over. His sleek black hair was pushed back uniformly and sat as still as the rest of him. She fidgeted, opening her mouth to continue.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Her mouth hung for a moment, and she repeated that little word in her head. “I’m sorry?” she asked, not sure which of her ramblings he was referring to. She hoped it was yes to everything, but how could he grant her all of that after almost no discussion? Didn’t he want to check out her story first?
“Yes,” he repeated, standing and walking the length of his office with his hands held behind his back.
He was much taller than she remembered, but perhaps that was because she was sitting down. She wondered if she should be standing too.
“Yes, you would be able to secure the loan you need and use the other half to begin repairs. That’s a very good offer—one I’m fairly certain they would accept.”
His words were saying yes, but his expression was saying no. His face was solemn, and he turned to gaze out the window in silence.
“So, I can go ahead and make an offer?” she asked quietly, confused by his silence.
He sighed deeply before turning back to her, and his intense gaze seemed to hold her by the throat. She swallowed.
“Yes, technically you can. But do you want to? Should you? I can honestly say, I don’t know how to advise you on this. It’s a unique situation. One I’ve never found myself in before. Such a beautiful property, like none I’ve ever seen… but whatever’s going on there…” His gaze was prying as if he could stare into her soul to find the answer.
“I understand that,” Abby said, speaking carefully. She didn’t want to undervalue his warning, but she’d already thought over the shocking sight at the house. “But really, I believe this is just a case of an abandoned house being used as a secret place. Once we begin visiting the grounds and cleaning things up, I’m sure there won’t be any more problems. Whatever creature is coming around, it will find a new, more isolated area.”
She nodded back at him, sure he would agree with her. Any rational person would. What other view was there? It was simple.
He took a breath, relenting his stillness with a nod. But he remained silent and began to pace, gazing out the window from time to time. Abby began to feel a bit irritated. Why wasn’t he moving on with the paperwork? Was he not taking her seriously? What if someone else made an offer while they were just sitting around discussing?
“Okay,” he finally said, although he continued his pacing. “Let’s make an offer. But I want to add a condition that the property be cleaned of any unpleasant refuse, and we’re given an inspection date where we can personally inspect the property before finalizing.” He turned back to her, finally stilling his feet.
Abby couldn’t believe it. Her head was spinning with anticipation, with the idea that she—Abigail Tanner—could ever own a property like that. Balanced at the coast’s edge, surrounded by redwoods.
Her throat felt suddenly thick. She wanted to share it with everyone. Every child who’d ever known their family’s lowly place on the economic ladder. Every young couple who’d searched for the perfect romantic escape. Every grandparent who wished for tranquility with the world around them.
She knew then what she was going to do. An inn that would be a nod to old world values and loaded with the clean lines and luxurious fabrics of modern décor, plus her personal style and flavor. It felt like an other-worldly guiding hand was brushing aside any other possibilities for her in life except for this one. And with such support from the universe, she couldn’t fail.
Her gaze lifted to Mr. Craig, and she straightened her back.
“Perfect.”
She was waiting at Chase’s townhouse when he returned home from work. It was late, nearly 8:30 p.m. But his weary face lifted to a smile when he saw Abby. Her adrenaline had never calmed since she’d signed the papers, and she doubted she’d be able to sleep that night. Or ever again.
Thank you, Sharalyn.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, glad when Chase shook his head. She couldn’t hold her excitement in any longer.
“No, thanks. I ate at work.” He paused to eye her, likely noticing some key differences in the color of her cheeks and arch of her eyebrows. “What’s up?” he finally asked, letting a smile find its way through his exhaustion.
“Well…” Abby grabbed his arm and towed him to the living room, where they sat on the couch together. She was so glad it was Friday. Maybe they could drive out to Poppyridge in the morning. Just to give it another look.
“I went to Vance Craig’s office today, just to talk about the house. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, especially after our conversation in London.”
She grinned, but Chase’s expression was perplexed. She didn’t notice.<
br />
“So, I spoke to him about splitting the one million I have, making an offer with half and using the other half to start on renovations while I wait for the rest—and he agreed!”
“Whoa.” Chase woke a bit, leaning forward. “Hold on. You already did this?”
“Yes!” she cheered. “Well, we sent the offer. I’m hoping we hear back tomorrow. Can you believe it, Chase? Should we drive out and look around tomorrow?” Her excitement was bubbling over so fiercely she felt close to tears, but Chase had yet to crack a smile. Instead, he continued to look shocked.
“And who’s Vance Craig again?” he asked, sounding entirely too calm.
Abby’s hands came to her hips. “The realtor. The one we spoke to in the bread store.”
“Ah. Yes, I remember.”
Chase glanced up at her, and his eyes still lacked the excitement she was looking for. A bit of irritation pricked at her heart.
“I…” He rubbed his neck with one hand. “I didn’t mean for you to jump in like this. I thought maybe you’d complete the challenges first and then pursue it after you were allocated the inheritance. Are you prepared to take on a two-million-dollar loan? That just seems… I don’t know, doesn’t that make you nervous?”