“You Nina Fontaine?”
She smiled. Yes. Yes, she was.
“That’s me.”
“Got a delivery,” he said, pulling a clipboard out of his backpack.
“For me?”
He nodded and handed her the clipboard. She signed her name, gave it back to him, and took the package he handed her.
A glance at the return address did nothing to ease her curiosity: Stevens, Chase, and Goldstein, Attorneys at Law.
“Have a good one,” the messenger said.
“You too.” She was already walking around the desk and reaching for the letter opener. Her divorce had long since been settled with Peter. Last she heard, he was still living in the house in Larchmont and seeing a thirty-one-year-old teacher. Besides, she didn’t recognize the name of the law firm on the envelope.
She slid the letter opener under the envelope’s flap and reached inside to withdraw a thick stack of papers. She looked at the letter on top, stamped with the law firm’s logo and addressed to her.
Dear Miss Fontaine,
Please be advised that this letter is to inform you of the recent passing of Judith Chambers.
Nina’s hand flew to her mouth.
Mrs. Chambers has allocated to you in her will (see attached) a series of photographs, along with correspondence, which we have included for your review. These photographs are in possession of the estate and will be transferred to you immediately upon acceptance. Please contact us at your earliest convenience to arrange for delivery.
Mrs. Chambers was a valued client of this firm and a treasured friend. We can only assume you share our sentiments for Mrs. Chambers, a private and discerning woman, to have left you such personally valuable items. Please accept our deepest sympathies.
Sincerely,
Abe Goldstein, Esquire
Tears streamed down Nina’s face as she finished reading the letter. She thought of the calls she’d made to Judith that had gone unanswered. Had she been sick or had her death been sudden? Should Nina have contacted someone in Judith’s building when she couldn’t reach her?
She hadn’t known Judith long, but she’d figured large in Nina’s life since their first meeting in the park. She’d felt Judith’s strength over the past couple of weeks as she’d grieved her relationship with Jack, had drawn on the wisdom Judith had dispensed like pearls.
She set the cover letter aside. A copy of the will lay under it, an envelope with her name scrawled on its front attached with a paper clip. She used the letter opener to open it.
Dearest Nina,
My but you’ve been a wonderful friend these past weeks! I would say it was a generous case of chance, but you know I don’t believe in chance. Let’s call it serendipity instead. We were meant to be great friends.
I’ve decided you were right after all. The women of our shared city deserve to see themselves as I see them, and so do you. I’ve left the pictures to you. Do with them as you see fit. I ask only that you not price them overly high. They were never meant to make anyone a mint. I’d rather they have good homes.
I’ve left you something else as well. What you do with that is also up to you.
Don’t mourn my passing. My life has been marvelous. It’s been exciting and terrifying and beautiful and sometimes downright horrendous! Most of all, it’s been interesting. What more could anyone ask of a life?
I see so much of myself in you, my dear. You think you’re lost, but you are exactly where you’re meant to be, just as I was where I was meant to be in California.
Stop looking. You’re already home, my dear, and so am I.
Judith
Nina lowered her head to her hands and gave in to the sob clawing its way out of her throat. By the time she looked up, the August light was waning on the other side of the window.
She pulled a couple tissues out of the box on the desk, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose. Then she turned her attention to the package that had been delivered with the letter from the attorney, the letter to Nina, and the will.
She used scissors to cut the tape holding the box closed and opened the flaps.
The first thing she saw was the photograph. The woman in the photo was wearing a navy coat and sitting on a bench in the park, her dark hair spilling around her shoulders. But unlike Judith’s other pictures, this one had been taken from the side, the woman’s face slightly visible as she gazed at something beyond the lens’ view. Her expression was pensive, the slightest of smiles playing at her lips, like she had a secret no one else knew.
It was Nina.
She looked more closely at the picture, trying to figure out when it had been taken. The coat was a trench, worn during early summer evenings just before the weather had become reliably warm. Beyond Nina on the bench, the trees were beginning to bloom with the bright green that was unique to spring.
She’d worn the trench coat during one of her early meetings with Judith in the park. Had Judith snapped the photo as she’d approached Nina on their favorite bench?
Something took flight in her chest as she looked at the picture. She remembered her conversation with Judith the first time they’d talked about the photographs.
I think you see women as they wish they could be seen. The way they should see themselves.
And how is that, dear?
Beautiful. Brave. Strong.
That’s how Nina looked in the picture.
Beautiful. Brave. Strong.
She set it aside and removed the packing from the rest of the box. When she lifted the old Leica out of it, she started to cry again.
I’ve left you something else as well. What you do with that is also up to you.
She turned it over in her hands, then held it close to her chest as tears again streamed down her face.
She sat there for a long time, the contents of the box spread out around her, Judith’s words ringing in her ears. She couldn’t believe — didn’t want to believe — she would never see Judith again. She’d been a bright spot in Nina’s life the past few months, a beacon of hope when she hadn’t even realized she’d been frozen in the darkness of her own mind.
She drew in a deep breath and packed everything back up, lingering over the picture Judith had taken of her. She would never look at it without thinking of the older woman: her unabashed smile, her enchantment with life, her belief that it was beautiful even when everyone else was eager to argue to the contrary.
She tucked the box under her arm, her appetite returning as she turned off the lights and headed for the door. She needed that pizza now more than ever, and definitely the wings. Judith would tell her to get the wings, even though she would never deign to eat them herself.
She locked the door and breathed in the late summer heat. Soon it would be fall, her favorite time of year. The sky would be bluer than ever and the leaves would change and the air would nip at her cheeks as they got closer to winter. She would enjoy every moment.
She was turning away from the door when she froze, her eyes on a figure moving away from the gallery in the opposite direction of Nina’s apartment. She recognized the easy walk, the broad shoulders, the thick blond hair cut short at the back of a strong, tanned neck.
Liam.
She opened her mouth to call out to him, her feet already propelling her forward. She didn’t get two feet before she stopped, her eyes still on his back, her heart in her throat. A swell of longing rose in her chest, threatening to split her skin, to erupt from her body like a rogue wave.
She sat with it, watching him get smaller as he continued down the street, waiting until he disappeared into the crowd emerging from the subway.
It hurt, but she was okay. She was going to be okay.
She started for home, feeling Judith’s presence in the box tucked under her arm, in the smile tugging at her lips despite the ache in her chest.
My life has been marvelous. It’s been exciting and terrifying and beautiful and sometimes downright horrendous! Most of all, it’s been interesting. What
more could anyone ask of a life?
What more indeed.
Preorder The Liberation of Nina Fontaine, the final book in the Awakening series, and save $1 off the post-release price.
Did you enjoy this book? Please help other readers find it by leaving a review.
Join the Michelle Zink email list for book news and freebies.
Please find me online. I’d love to get to know you!
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Bookbub
Also by Michelle St. James
Ruthless
Fearless
Lawless
Muscle
Savage
Primal
Eternal
Covenant
Revenant
Rule
The Sentinel
Rogue Love
Rebel Love
Fire with Fire
Into the Fire
Through the Fire
Eternal Love
King of Sin
Wages of Sin
The Awakening of Nina Fontaine
The Liberation of Nina Fontaine
Thicker Than Water
The Surrender of Nina Fontaine (Awakening Book 2) Page 14