Kristen Ashley - The Will

I looked to my handbag, maneuvering it open to find my sunglasses, because any woman knew, she shouldn’t be out in the sun without two things. One, a very good SPF moisturizer under her makeup. And two, an excellent pair of sunglasses so she didn’t get lines from squinting her eyes.

I secured my glasses while talking. “I’m afraid dinner is out of the question.”

“Why?”

I slid my sunglasses on my nose and looked again to him. “Why?”

“Josie, I see you’re tryin’ to pretend that shit in there didn’t happen but, just sayin’, that shit in there happened.”

I sighed and agreed, “Yes, it did.”

“Right, then tonight, we’re goin’ out to dinner.”

“No, we aren’t.”

His head cocked to the side and he opened his mouth to speak but I got there before him.

“Listen, Mr. Spear—”

“Jake,” he cut in, his deep voice lowering with impatience.

“Of course,” I hurried on. “As I explained in Ms. Baginski’s office, Gran was very protective of me. We were also very close. I loved her deeply and she felt the same about me. But with relationships like ours, the person in Gran’s place can often get stuck in a time when they’re needed and they might not realize they’re not needed in that way any longer. From what she wrote in that letter, it’s clear that’s what occurred with Gran.”

His face had returned to hard, with the addition of cold, when he stated, “So you’re sayin’ you didn’t need Lydie.”

“No,” I whispered, at his words a different kind of twist happening in my stomach, one that felt far worse. This feeling was reflected in my voice and the cold left his face at my tone. Alert warmth replaced it. It was no less arresting than everything else about him, but I kept talking. “I needed my grandmother. I still need my grandmother. Just not that way.”

“She disagreed,” he replied quietly, his voice now reflecting the warmth in his face.

“She would be wrong.”

“Josie—”

“Josephine,” I cut him off to stress.

“Whatever,” he returned impatiently. “I’ve known Lydie for seven years. This means that letter we just heard was written sometime in the last seven years. My guess, recently. This means she felt the way she felt about you in order to include that in her last wishes and she felt that way recently. Are you honestly gonna ignore that?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately and his face changed again, his eyes changed, everything about him changed.

I just couldn’t put my finger on how he changed.

Until he whispered, “Don’t.”

My entire body froze solid.

“Don’t do that, Josie,” he went on. “She wanted me for you.”

He couldn’t be serious.

“Are you saying—?” I began to force out through stiff lips.

“No.” He shook his head. “What I’m sayin’ is, the least we could do is get to know each other. Give her a little of what she wanted. We both owe her that respect and, I don’t know you outside of what she told me about you and the last twenty minutes I’ve been with you, but I’m gettin’ that you know we do.”

A little of what she wanted.

What, exactly, did she want?

Gran had known this man for seven years. She’d given his children large amounts of money. And she’d given me to him.

And yet, she did not mention him once.

I didn’t understand this.

What I was coming to understand as my bizarre morning trundled on, was that it didn’t feel very nice.

“Dinner,” he encouraged softly. “Just dinner. You think I’m a dick, that’s it. Sayin’ that, I’m not gonna be a dick to Lydie’s girl because that woman meant a lot to me, to my kids, and that’s just not gonna happen. You feel that from me anyway, we’re done. But give it dinner.”

I could give it dinner.

In actuality, I could tell him I could give it dinner because it was clear he wasn’t going to give up until I did so.

Then I would not go to dinner. The town was not big but Lavender House wasn’t exactly on Main Street. In the brief time I was there, I could avoid him.

Then I’d be gone.

Therefore, I decided to do just that.

“Fine. Dinner,” I lied.

His lips curled up. “Great.”

“Where shall I meet you?” I asked and his lips turned down but his brows inched up.

“Meet me?” he asked.

“Meet you.”

“Josie, a man takes a woman to dinner, he picks her up at her door and he returns her there,” he decreed and I found this decree troubling.

I found it troubling because, although I didn’t date, had never really dated, that didn’t mean I didn’t frequently spend time around a goodly number of females who did date. And these days, men and women more often than not met places for said dates.

I disliked this. If I were to date, I would not abide a man who told me he’d meet me somewhere. A man who couldn’t act with gallantry, in other words, make the effort to come collect me and see me safely home, wasn’t worth my time.

And it was troubling that James Markham Spear agreed with me.

“I’m uncertain what my day will bring,” I told him and this was the truth. “I have some things to do for my employer.” This wasn’t the truth. “Not to mention a variety of things having to do with Gran’s passing.” And with that I was back on the truth. “I’d rather be free to take care of all that without having to worry about meeting you at Lavender House since I’ll likely be in town anyway, we’ll be coming back to town to have dinner, so I can just meet you where we’re to eat.”

He looked at me again like he was studying me.

“So, when and where shall I meet you?” I asked when this went on for some time and he said not a word.

This lasted longer and I was about to say something again when he finally spoke.

“The Lobster Market, six thirty.”

Six thirty.

I didn’t like this. I never ate dinner until after seven thirty. I was a night owl. I usually didn’t get to bed until after midnight.

Eating this early meant I’d be needing a snack before bedtime which would be annoying since I wouldn’t have one and not because there was very little food in Gran’s house but because I never snacked.

Ever.

The fortunate thing was, I wasn’t actually meeting him so this wouldn’t be a problem.

“I’ll see you there,” I stated. “Six thirty.”

“Great.”

“Fine.”

He didn’t move.

I was about to open my mouth to tell him I wished for him to do so when he finally did.

He stepped back half a foot and stopped, locking his now-blue eyes with my sunglasses.

And it was then he said quietly, “It’s real good to finally meet you, Josie.”

And when he said it, he meant it.

And him meaning it, the tone in his voice, the intent look in his eyes, it gave me that feeling on my skin again. All over. A feeling that felt like an urge for me to do something, say something. I just didn’t know what.

I also didn’t know what to say.

So I inclined my head.

“The Market, see you there,” he murmured.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Later, Josie.”

“Good-bye.”

He lifted a hand in a low wave and walked away.

I watched him thinking it was quite remarkable how he moved that big body of his without it looking like it took any effort.

But in the back of my head, it occurred to me that this was so fascinating I could watch him move for a long time. Minutes. Hours.

An eternity.

On this utterly unhinged thought, my stomach twisted yet again and before I went off my lunch, I hit the button on the key fob to open the car so I could get in and get to the bank in order to begin my business that would conclude my time in Magdalene.

Forever.

Thus taking me to what I dreaded the most.

My final farewell to Gran.

I sat sipping Chambord on the veranda of Breeze Point, an excellent restaurant one town over from Magdalene. It, like Lavender House, sat on a cliff and its views were stunning, by day and, as it was now, by night.

In the clear, inky, star-filled night, I could see the lighthouse jutting out from Magdalene beaming its rotating beam.

If I’d left all the lights in the light room burning at Lavender House, I would have been able to see that too.

I knew this because Gran and I had been to Breeze Point often. We’d experimented once and found this to be true.

Breeze Point was an oft-visited destination for me and Gran. From when I would visit her as a little girl to when I took her there the summer before, we would dress up and come here to eat their superb lobster bisque, sublime crab cakes and their elegant take on whoopee pies.

All of which I’d eaten that night, remembering Gran and maybe not enjoying it as much as when she’d partaken of the same with me, but still enjoying it.

I was also there because it was not close to the Lobster Market where James Spear would be. I deduced I had probably at least a week of avoiding him and I did not delay in putting that in motion.

I drew in a deep breath as I drew the soft shawl closer around me to keep the evening chill of an early Maine September at bay.

I did this thinking that the day started out with a variety of surprises and it continued in this vein.

This being, I had gone to Magdalene Bank and Trust, spoken with the manager and found that I was in error about Gran’s assets.

She had fourteen thousand some odd dollars in her checking account.