“Miss Jenson, did you hear what I just said to you?” Mr. Ryding, the weaselly-looking lawyer, says to me from behind the large walnut desk. He’s fidgeting with the papers in front of him, stacking them, picking them up, tapping them, and then placing them back on the desk in front of himself. While I sit there, waiting for him to say more, he straightens the pens in the holder to the right of him. Given he’s done this all at least half a dozen times, it seems like he’s doing everything in his power to avoid making eye contact with my very confused self.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand you. I received a letter from your office saying I have been bequeathed something. I was told that I must present myself in person to sign some papers in order to receive it. Now, you arealsotelling me it was from a grandfather I didn’t even know existed, one who obviously didn’t want me, as I spent the first eighteen years of my life in foster homes.”
He looks up, briefly pausing his fidgeting. “Yes, that’s correct. Though it’s grandfathers. Plural.”
Plural?I puzzle internally.Never mind, I’ll come back to that.
“John, William, and Eric Adams are your paternal grandfathers, and it wasn’t that they didn’t want you.” His shifty eyes soften briefly before he continues. “They weren’t able to find you. Your parents were estranged from them, and they were not notified at the time of your parents’ accident. When you were placed in foster care, they weren’t in the States, making it even harder for word to come down the appropriate channels.” He shuffles his papers again. “When they did eventually find out, John rushed back. Unfortunately, you’d been placed in the system and had your name changed, as per a request in your parents’ will, by then. You’d disappeared and were well hidden. Due to the nature of their business, they decided that maybe you were better off. Their job required constant traveling, never settling in one place for very long. It was no place to raise a child, or so they thought. They believed you were safe and loved.”
I scoff out loud at that one, hitting my limit of holding my tongue. Though I have to give the man credit. Despite his obvious nerves and my apparent skepticism, he soldiers on. “Otherwise, they would have claimed you immediately,” he assures me.
“So, why am I finding out about this now? I’m assuming they’re all dead, so why leave our estrangement until I had no chance of getting to know them?” I’m trying my best to keep my tone under control, but I’m honestly at a loss. There isn’t a part of me that can reconcile these strangers leaving their granddaughter at the mercy of the system, name change or not. There had to be something terribly wrong with them, or maybe they thought there was something terribly wrong with me, if they’d chosen to stay away until we lost the chance to ever have a relationship.
The shifty look in his eyes is back, and the fidgeting obviously isn’t cutting it since he gets up from his desk and starts to pace behind it. He marches back and forth in front of the big picture window which holds the view of the river his office backs onto. He stops, takes a deep breath, and turns to look at me.
“Well, actually, that’s not quite true. Misters Adams have not passed on. They’ve decided to retire, and the family business may only pass down to a family member. You’re the one that was chosen, so they contracted our firm to find you. It has taken quite a while, I can assure you.”
“Excuse me?” I gasp. “Are you saying my grandfathers are alive and want to meet me?” As a little girl, I would have dreams of a relative swooping in to rescue me from the never-ending cycle of foster homes. I had finally given up around the age of thirteen. I wasn’t one of those kids who were beaten or abused in care; I just never seemed to fit in. I was never really included or felt like I was one of the family. It would’ve been nice to know there was someone out there who wanted me.
Of course, my very skeptical nature decides this is too good to be true, turning my surprise into anger.
“Why the fuck am I dealing with a lawyer and not them directly? Can they not even be bothered, or are they too fucking chicken to face me themselves?” I can practically feel the steam escaping from my ears. It takes a lot to get me mad, but when I get there, you better watch out. Mr. Ryding swallows nervously and brings a finger up, trying to loosen his collar.
“Ah… but… They’re…” he stammers. The man must be good at his job if he was able to track me down, which was apparently quite the feat, but he’s horribly unprepared to deal with a woman’s anger.
Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down.Don’t take it out on the lawyer, Lila. He’s just the messenger.
“Why me? I’m assuming there are other family members they could turn to?” I rub my eyes, already feeling a headache brewing. They’ve steadily been getting more frequent, and this meeting is not doing me any favors.
“Yes, well, no. Thereareother family members, but you are their only grandchild, and they’ve decided that it’s time you join the family legacy. You are to be given the opportunity first. All the details are in the package.” He sits back down at the desk and gestures to the stack of papers he’d been fidgeting with. “You’re required to spend twelve months within the business, learning all the ins and outs. If, at the end of the twelve-month period, you’re unwilling to continue, the business and the role of CEO and all it entails will pass on to the next eligible family member. You will carry on with life as if the previous twelve months had never really happened.”
I stare at the package like it’s a snake that’s going to bite me. I just don’t know what to think. Do I ignore it, sign it over now, and wash my hands of the whole debacle? Or do I take a leap of faith and at least meet the men that could be the bestorthe worst thing to happen to me?
“Can I have some time to think about this?” I ask. “It’s quite a decision I need to make.”
Mr. Ryding shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but this decision needs to be made as soon as possible. Our firm has been looking for you for a while, and I’m afraid we’re out of time. You need to be on a plane to London in two days’ time. We’re going to need an answer now.”
It’s my turn to start pacing. Jumping out of the chair I’ve been sitting in, I start stalking back and forth across the room. The pounding behind my eyes has intensified, and I rub my temples in an attempt to alleviate it. What to do? It’s not like I have anything keeping me here. I don’t really have friends, mainly acquaintances. My best friend and roomie is head over heels in love with her partner, so she’d be ok if I left. I have a dead-end job in a bar that pays crappy but keeps me busy. Looking at the facts of my life, as totally unimpressive as they are, I guess there’s nothing specifically stopping me from going. I’ve always dreamed of adventures, feeling sure that there must be something better in store than the life I’ve been living.
“All right,” I tell him, making the decision, “I’m in. Show me where to sign.”
He goes to the stack of papers on the table and pulls some out. “You need to sign here, here, and here. One of them is a non-disclosure form. No matter what happens, from here on, you are bound by a confidentiality clause. Even if at the end of twelve months you change your mind, everything you see and do will be confidential, and there are some very harsh consequences if you break the clause. A plane ticket is also in the pack, in your name, with the details of your flight. You’ll be met at the airport by a driver who will take you to where you need to be. For your peace of mind, you can tell people where you are going and why, but there is to be no sharing of any other details. It’s actually a good thing that you don’t have a huge circle of friends.” I’m torn between surprise that he knows that fact and being insulted by the comment despite its truth.
“We’ve been looking for you for so long I wouldn’t hesitate to say we know everything about you,” he replies to my look, a little more defensively than I expected the nervous guy to manage.
“Yeah, ok, because that’s not creepy or rude,” I reply sarcastically.
I busy myself with signing papers, and by the time I’m finished, my hand aches and my head throbs incessantly. Gathering my copies of everything, I shove them in my hand bag; I’ll read it all when I get home. “So what business have I just signed my life away to?” I ask Mr. Ryding, thinking this is probably something I should have askedbeforesigning. Fuck, I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I ask that first? I mentally slap my impulsive self.
“Have you heard of the Galaxy Circus?” he asks, slightly distracted with gathering all his copies of the paperwork.
I nod enthusiastically, feeling more upbeat than I have this entire meeting.“Oh yes, isn’t that the circus that claims it has aliens as its performers? It pops up throughout the globe and is always sold out even though the schedule is too random for anyone to know where they’ll be next. People have been trying to debunk them for years. I remember reading that PETA was trying to gain access to prove that their animals are mistreated.” I laugh loudly, remembering how that particular situation worked out. Apparently, the circus claimed their animals were really shifters, a clever gimmick that allowed them some special dispensation and gave PETA no ground to stand on. Hey, if people were gullible enough to believe it, then that was their problem.
He looks at me, a strange glint in his eye. “Are they gullible or just looking to be entertained?” he questions, his words coming oddly close to the thought I hadn’t spoken aloud. “Well, whether they’re gullible or not is besides the point. It still attracts huge crowds when it does tour. It is one of the most popular circuses around, even outselling Cirque du Soleil despite having less shows each year.”
My heart starts to beat rapidly as Mr. Ryding looks at me with an oily-looking grin, possibly the first time I’ve seen him smile since I walked in the door. “Miss Jenson, with the papers you signed, you just joined the circus.”
“What the fuck, Lila! Is this some joke?” my best friend Susie asks as she throws herself down on our couch in the living room.
