The Inheritance Part VI Page 4

  But now, it was here. Time to deal with her grandfather’s inheritance and move on. She knew her parents still wanted her to keep the money out of Bethany’s hands, but no one could have predicted the events unfolding the way they did. What was Mr. Webber going to declare? And what was truly fair?

  Bethany opened the door and slipped in. She had on a pair of slim jeans and a long-sleeved red shirt with a black scarf draped over her shoulders. Her shoes were sensible black flats, and her hair was twisted into a casual updo. A far cry from her usual dressy attire, yet not as sloppy as she’d been after leaving Maggie’s grandpa’s house. There was a ring of fingertip-sized bruises around her throat, which made Maggie cringe.

  Bethany must have seen the reaction because she quickly wrapped the scarf around her neck. “Sorry,” she said, giving a chagrined frown. “I meant to do that earlier but got sidetracked. Didn’t want to be late.” She took a seat across the table from Andrew and Maggie, then reached to the middle of the table to pour herself a coffee. Her hands were shaking slightly as she shoved a dark, loose tendril behind her ear.

  They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes while waiting on Mr. Webber. While the antagonistic relationship between Bethany and Maggie had evolved into something more amenable, it still was uncomfortable. After all, how did one even start to apologize for the awful things her brother had done? Maggie had apologized several times in the hospital, but somehow it didn’t feel like enough.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mr. Webber said as he burst into the room, carrying a stack of papers. “I had a conference call that came up at the last second, and I could not get that client off the line.” He darted to the end of the table, dropped the papers on the surface and plopped his round body into a seat, unbuttoning his suit coat. “Anyway. I’ve spoken with each of you to get your take on the events that happened a few days ago. Tragic. I’m so sorry.” His eyes turned sad as he gave a pitying look at Maggie.

  She swallowed and glanced away, not sure she was ready to see the emotion there about her brother. With icy fingers she gripped Andrew’s hand.

  “Anyway,” Mr. Webber continued, “it appears we face quite a conundrum, one Mr. Holden hadn’t anticipated. From what I can gather from these interviews and reading the police reports, it appears all three of you uncovered the truth at the same time when Mr. Willings gave his confession, before . . . well, unfortunate incidents happened.” He gave a knowing nod to Bethany, whose face burned red. “I’m glad to see you’re recuperating.”

  She nodded stiffly and pressed her hands into her lap.

  “After consulting relevant case material and reviewing the evidence,” Mr. Webber continued, “I have determined that there is only one fair way to handle the inheritance, and I am certain Mr. Holden would agree. If it weren’t for all of you gathering that night, and the events of that conversation, it’s possible Mr. Willings would not have revealed the truth. Therefore, you three all have an equal part in the evidence discovery.”

  Maggie blinked. She was floored, to say the least. “So, that means . . .”

  He fixed his gaze on her. “The money should be split evenly into three, the house liquidated and all proceeds split evenly as well.”

  “Not three,” Andrew said, leaning back in his chair. The dark blue of his shirt made his bright eyes pop, and Maggie’s heart squeezed a bit. “I forfeit my portion to Maggie, so her allotment should be two-thirds.”

  “But why would you do that?” Bethany asked him. She didn’t seem judgmental, more genuinely curious.

  “Because it’s not my money. This has never been about the money for me,” he said evenly then looked at Maggie. “It’s been about finding the truth so the family could heal and move on. It’s been about doing the right thing.”

  She shot him a small smile, squeezing his hand. “I told you before that I appreciate you doing that. But you worked just as hard as the rest of us to help figure out what happened. I think you should take some of it.”

  He shook his head and looked at Mr. Webber. “I’m out,” he said gently.

  Mr. Webber rubbed his chin. “Hm. I need to think about this.”

  Bethany stared down at her hands, a low flush crawling up her face. Maggie noticed she wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup; her whole demeanor seemed softer, less in-your-face. The woman really had changed. Maybe she was trying to work on bettering herself.

  “Did you really love Grandpa?” Maggie asked her.

  Bethany looked up, tears in her eyes. She nodded and swiped the wetness away. “I did. Despite my own awful issues, and the way I unfairly treated him, I did.” She paused. “I don’t deserve any of that money, though.” Her voice broke on the last word. “Staying in the hospital really gave me a lot of time to think about my life. How I’ve been living. Who I’ve been spending time with. I haven’t been a good person for a long, long time,” she admitted, giving a small sniffle. Her eyes welled again. “I messed up a lot of things, but despite that, Jeffrey believed in me, anyway. I don’t understand it.”

  “Maybe he saw something that none of us saw,” Maggie said. “I mean, that we didn’t try to look closely enough to see.”

  She shrugged. Her face was crestfallen, and she stared dully at the table. “I guess.”

  “I want you to give her half,” Maggie blurted out to Mr. Webber, surprising herself. But her heart told her it was the right thing to do. If Bethany was ever going to get a chance to become the person she could be, she needed a leg up.

  Bethany’s head whipped up. “What?”

  Her parents might be mad, but if her grandpa had wanted Bethany to participate, it was for a reason. “You take half of the money. I know he wouldn’t want you to be poor—or living with your dad,” she added with a meaningful look.

  Bethany swallowed, glanced away. Her hands rested on the tabletop, fingers fiddling with the mug of coffee. “I don’t know what to say. I’m . . . stunned.”

  “Say yes,” Andrew encouraged her with a smile. “Let’s move on with our lives.” He looked at Maggie, his gaze so full of love it knocked the air out of her lungs.

  They were really going to move forward. Together. And she couldn’t wait.

  Bethany swiped her eyes again and gave a firm nod, her face forming a tremulous smile. “Okay. But we’re not liquidating the mansion. Jeffrey would want it to stay in the family—I know that much for sure. So you should keep it.”

  Maggie’s heart pinched with guilt. All this time she’d been judging Bethany, assuming she was nothing more than a gold-digger. But beneath that brazen exterior had been a fragile, flawed woman desperate to find love, to believe in herself. With Robert out of the picture and some independence, maybe Bethany could eventually grow into her own.

  “Are we all settled, then?” Mr. Webber asked in his thin, high voice.

  Andrew nodded.

  Maggie looked at Bethany and gave a nod.

  Bethany remained frozen for a moment, then nodded as well.

  “Wonderful. For what it’s worth, I think this is a fair and equitable division. And Mr. Holden would be proud of you all, though I know he’d be grief-stricken about the actual truth. I hope you’re all able to find peace as time heals your wounds—and if there’s any way I can assist you in the future, please let me know.” Mr. Webber smiled and stood. “I’m going to draw up the paperwork and call you back into the office in a day or so to sign.”

  They filed out of the room, Andrew’s hand resting lightly on Maggie’s back. She relished the feel of his touching her, that steady comfort that warmed her soul—that would never get old. She shot him a grateful smile over her shoulder.

  As they headed toward the main door, Bethany tugged on Maggie’s sleeve. “Wait, Maggie. I . . . want to show you something.”

  “I’ll wait for you in the car,” Andrew told Maggie, giving her a soft kiss and heading outside.

  Bethany’s face w
as filled with a surprising open honesty, and a couple of tears coursed freely down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and wet-rimmed, but she kept her attention squarely on Maggie. She wasn’t even bothering to wipe them away.

  The sight of those tears made Maggie’s heart hurt, though she still wasn’t quite comfortable with the feeling—the woman was obviously in some emotional overload right now. Like Maggie could blame her. It had been a helluva few days with more than its share of drama.

  Bethany swallowed and said, “First I just wanted to say . . . your generosity in there really moved me. You didn’t have to share any of that money with me, and I’m not sure I could have even legally put up a fight for it. But you gave me half, anyway.”

  Embarrassment made her face flame. She hadn’t done it to try to win brownie points with Bethany. “Really, it’s okay—” Maggie started.

  “No, it’s not.” Her voice broke, and she took a second to draw in a slow breath. “Jeffrey always talked about how wonderful you were,” Bethany continued. “But I was so upset about our friendship going awry when you went off to college that I let myself get bitter. I wouldn’t listen to him. But I want you to see what kind of a man your grandfather was. How much he cared about me—and how much you’re like him.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a well-worn folded piece of paper. “This is the letter he wrote me about the inheritance,” she said, cramming it into Maggie’s open hand.

  Maggie’s fingers trembled as she gripped the paper.

  “I want you to read it.”

  Chapter 35

  Dearest Bethany,

  I know this is a hard time for you right now. You watched me get sicker every day, yet you stayed and held my hand through the whole thing. Not sure I would have made it through all that chemo without you, those long nights of illness and fatigue. Thank you.

  Anyway, my passing won’t be a surprise to you. But this inheritance will be, I’m sure. Partly because I know you’re going to be scared. You’re losing your security, your stability. That thing you’ve craved for so long. That thing you’d found with me.

  Well, until I got sick, that is.

  Maggie’s throat closed so tightly she could barely breathe. Bethany was quite a complicated person, it appeared. She’d cheated on Maggie’s grandpa, yet she’d helped him too. No, she hadn’t forgiven Bethany for the infidelity. But maybe she could stop being so judgmental, assuming everything was black or white. She read on.

  Bethany, I have always been grateful to you for your affection and companionship. But the time has come for you to be your own person. To find your place in this world. Yet I’m afraid, my dear, that before I can release you to your happiness, I must beg a favor of you.

  You know that I have been nearly consumed with the mystery of my granddaughter, Cassandra. My heart has never felt complete or whole without her. Therefore, I ask that you, Robert, Maggie and Andrew put aside your differences and finish what I could not—someone must find Cassandra and bring peace and closure to the family.

  Yes, I’m aware of the antagonistic relationship between you and my grandchildren. But I hope that despite the past, you will let it all go and try to mend those fences as well. You used to be close. And I think you can be again. You and Maggie hurt each other with your stubborn silence and distance—don’t let more time pass. Hold on to what matters.

  I will miss you. And I’m sure you will miss me. But I hope you’ll forgive an old man for saying, it’s time for you to find yourself, love yourself. Reveal that inner strength I know is in there.

  With love,

  Jeffrey

  Maggie read the letter once more, this time absorbing the words as they were without putting her own judgment or feelings into it. Her grandpa really did care about Bethany, that much was apparent. And he’d hoped that she and Bethany could become friends again.

  “You know, it really hurt me when you shut me out of your life, and I was too proud to beg you to be my friend again. Plus, I was so jealous of you,” Bethany whispered.

  That got Maggie’s attention. She looked up to see the woman leaning against the wall, staring at Maggie with an unreadable expression on her face.

  “Jealous? Of what?”

  “I envied you and your family, who loved you. Unlike my dad, who didn’t give a shit about me.” Bitterness seeped through her words. She paused and straightened her back. “Anyway, when I got back from the hospital I pulled that letter out and read it again. And I realized Jeffrey was telling me I need to stop looking for a man to take care of me. Oh, he was too gentle to outright say so, but he was right.”

  Maggie handed the letter back to Bethany, who folded it up and tucked it gently into her purse. She remained silent, unsure of what to say.

  “I thought I’d broken that pattern of dependence with Jeffrey. I guess not.” Bethany swiped a hand under her nose and sniffled, then patted around her eyes, trying to dry them. “So I made a few decisions. I’m going to go to counseling. I want to see what I’m doing wrong—and how to stop it. I don’t want to rely on men to take care of me anymore. It’s not healthy.”

  “That’s great,” Maggie said, and she meant it. Yeah, she’d noticed the pattern from all the way back in high school, but sometimes pointing something out to a person didn’t make that person realize it too. “I’m sure you’ll figure it all out.”

  “I think I need to be alone for a while. Let myself sort things out.” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave a resolute nod, and a fierce light filled her eyes. “Yeah, I can do this. I’ll put the money in a savings fund so I can live off it while I find an apartment.” Then she gave a sheepish grin. “I’m . . . sorry. I know I’m blabbing all of this to you, but the truth is, I just don’t have a lot of friends anymore. I’ve messed up so much over the years that I drove everyone away. Including you.”

  Maggie reached over and stroked the woman’s slender upper arm. “Maybe we can start over,” she said, surprised to find she really meant it. “Not judge each other based on the past, but from this point on. If you want.”

  Bethany pressed her lips together and nodded, tears welling in her eyes again. “I’d like that a lot.” She moved forward, paused then continued moving until she wrapped Maggie in a quick embrace. “Thanks.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, I know you need to go.” Bethany gave another self-conscious laugh and blinked the tears away. “I do too, actually. Lots to do.”

  Before Bethany could walk away, Maggie said, “Hey, thank you. For sharing that letter with me, I mean.”

  Bethany nodded, smiled then left, with Maggie right behind her. She slipped into Andrew’s car and gave him a big hug.

  “Thanks for waiting.” She breathed in his rich, intoxicating scent. That was a strange experience, yet she felt better for letting go of her anger at Bethany. She’d needed to. Her anger with her brother was a whole other thing, but that was going to take a long, long, long time. And, of course, dealing with her mother’s cheating on top of it all.

  “No problem. Where to?”

  Maggie bit her lower lip. Only one thing left to deal with now. “Home. I need to talk to my parents.”

  ***

  Maggie stood on the side step and calmed her raging heart with a few slow breaths. She was nervous as hell to talk to her mom and dad, though she didn’t know why. Okay, she knew—because they were going to be pissed at her for giving up half of her grandpa’s money to Bethany.

  But it was the right thing, and she wasn’t going to regret it.

  She gave Andrew one last wave as he pulled out of the driveway, steeled her courage, then went inside. Just as she’d suspected, they were both home; she heard their voices coming from upstairs. Hopefully they weren’t fighting. Her parents had taken the week off of work and had spent the past few days holed up at home, doing a lot of talking.

  She couldn’t even imagin
e the turmoil they were going through, between their failing marriage and their son. What a nightmare.

  After grabbing a glass of wine from the fridge and taking a few sips to ease the nervous tension in her body, Maggie took her glass and padded upstairs . . .

  . . . and stopped in shock.

  Cassandra’s door was flung wide open, and the voices had come from inside her bedroom. She could hear the sounds of stuff being moved around as well.

  “Mom? Dad?” she asked tentatively, peeking her head inside the room.

  Her mom sat on the edge of the bed, folding Cassandra’s clothes and tucking them into a box. “Oh, hello, honey. How are you?”

  “I’m . . . fine. What’s going on?”

  Her father peeked at her from inside the closet. His eyes looked tired, of course, but there was a notable difference on his face, in the way he held his body. He looked like all the stress he’d been carrying for years was mostly gone. “We’re cleaning the room out. It’s time,” he said in a quiet tone.

  Maggie glanced over at her mom, who nodded. Her mom looked the same way—tired, but resolute.

  “Are you guys okay?” This wasn’t what she’d expected to come home to. She put down her wineglass on the corner of the dresser and moved to the other side of the bed, sitting down. The walls were already bare, with stacks of pictures placed in neat piles on the bedside table.

  Her chest clenched up at the sudden realization of what was happening. They were actually moving on. Letting Cassandra go. For a moment she panicked, drew in a ragged breath.

  “We have to let her go,” her mom whispered and reached over to grip Maggie’s hand in a quick squeeze. The gesture was awkward but Maggie appreciated the effort. “It’s time to move forward.”