“No one stops him?”
“Back when my husband made his will, there wasn’t thought to give businesses to the women of the family. We didn’t have a son, so our grandson seemed like the obvious choice.” She shrugs. “But he’s grown too comfortable in his position. Instead of increasing our net worth, it’s dropping. The money I’m giving Montana is money that was put in a trust; Frank’s never been able to touch it. Which is why he’s going to be angry when he finds out I’ve willed it to her.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this.”
Her eyes are defeated, like she knows this is a last-ditch effort to make things right in her life before she goes. I can’t imagine being this close to death and trying to wrap up pieces of a life I spent years creating, praying that I’m able to keep my accomplishments out of the Devil’s hands.
“I should’ve dealt with it before now, but I wasn’t strong enough. I refuse to give him what he wants. Not after I’ve seen how Montana has suffered. She deserves better, and I can give her that. If it’s the last thing I do, she will be taken care of.”
There’s a part of me that almost tells her it’s probably going to be the last thing. Mrs. Haley is frail, her voice husky and hoarse at the same time, and her eyes aren’t bright. They’re resigned.
She knows this is her Hail Mary.
“I’ll make sure all your wishes are kept, Mrs. Haley.”
“I know you will, which is why I want to give you this.”
I reach forward to grab what she’s holding out to me. It’s a check for ten thousand dollars. “Mrs. Haley, this is too much,” I protest, looking down at it.
“You were the only one to believe I knew my own mind, Shelby. It’s my way of saying thank you.”
“The words are good enough for me.”
“Not for me.” She reaches in, covering my hand with one of hers. “I lost my husband, my daughter, and in some aspects, I’ve lost my grandson. He’s not the man he should be, and he’s never going to live up to the expectations we’ve had for him. The best I can do is take care of Montana and thank you properly for what you’ve done. Please accept this gift, Shelby. It pleases me to be able to give it to you.”
I don’t know what to say or how to respond, so I smile. Lord knows I need the money and it’d be foolish of me not to bank this for the real hard times that may be coming up. “Thank you, Mrs. Haley. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”
“You too.” She puts her purse in her lap. “Now that I’m sure all of this is taken care of.” She points to the papers in front of me.
“It’ll be filed with the courthouse as soon as I leave here,” I assure her.
“Good, good. I must let you know, I’m going into Hospice care in the morning.”
My heart drops.
“Oh, Mrs. Haley, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, you’ve given me peace of mind no one else could. It’s everything I wanted before I leave this earth. I can go with my conscience clear.”
I’m more emotional than I should be. As she stands, I get up and go around the desk. On impulse I envelop her in a hug. She holds me back tightly.
“If you need anything, Mrs. Haley, please let me know.”
“I will, Shelby. Thank you for making this so easy on me.”
I want to say more, but I’m at a loss with what words to use. What do you tell someone whose about to enter the last stages of their life?
“Will you make sure someone tells me.” I fight back tears. “When it happens? Not because I need to know for probate reasons, but because I think of you as a friend.”
She smiles graciously. “I sure will.”
When she turns to leave, I don’t know what else to say. What is there to say? Walking with her to the door, I open it for her, and watch as she makes her way to her car. Mrs. Haley is the only person I know who has a driver.
He gets out when he sees her coming. I look as he opens the door for her, escorting her inside. When he glances over at me, I give him a wave. He gives me one back, and even from where I stand, I can see the sadness in his eyes.
Both of us know.
She doesn’t have much time left.
Chapter 18
Shelby
When I get home, I don’t see Sully’s patrol SUV, which means he’s probably still on-shift. Until right now, I didn’t realize how much I look forward to seeing him at the end of a stressful day.
Reaching in, I grab my briefcase and drag myself up the stairs to my apartment. Going into an empty living room is not what I want to do, but it’s the life I have right now.
It’s nights like these I wish I had the life of most of the friends I’ve made here in Laurel Springs. Everyone is married with kids, or fixing to get married.
They’re settled.
And I’m not.
All the plans I had for myself seem to have never come to fruition, except being a lawyer. I love my job and I’m incredibly proud of what I’ve done, but none of my personal goals have been achieved.
I’m not married, no kids, not even a prospect. Granted, Sully and I are getting closer, but who knows how close we’ll get. Who knows how far it’ll go – it’s just as likely we’ll burn hot and fizzle out - as is it we’ll stick it out for the long haul.
After I turn on the lights, I look around.
Damn, I don’t want to be here.
But what can I do? Where can I go?
Picking up my phone, I log onto Facebook to see what the people in my old life are doing when I’m hit with a targeted ad for the bar in town. According to it, tonight’s ladies’ night, and just like that, I know exactly what I’m going to do.
Sullivan
“Are you gonna tell me those aren’t your pants?” I ask the teenager in cuffs as I search his jeans. I’ve already found paraphernalia, and I’m pretty sure I’ll find more.
“Swear to you. They aren’t mine.”
If only I had a dollar for every time someone lied about their clothes. I wouldn’t be doing this job anymore. I’d be living on some deserted island in the Caribbean.
“The problem is they’re in your possession.”
“Come on, man, my mom is going to kill me.”
There are people I wish I could cut a break, then there are people who I can instantly tell will never change. I’m not sure who this kid is yet, but I do know if we take the chance to scare him now, we might be able to set him on a better path.
“Are your parents home?” I ask, taking his wallet out of his back pocket.
When I shake it, nothing falls out, which is good for him. I grab his ID. He’s only sixteen.
“She’s at work,” he mumbles.
“She work the night shift?” I was supposed to have gotten off at four, but here it is, eight and I’m still on.
“Yeah, at the factory over in Calvert City.”
Chances are they’re working overtime, and this kid has been left on his own while they try to get as much money as they can to make ends meet. I hate to bring trouble to their doorstep, but kids make bad choices and sometimes parents have to pay for it.