I will not break down. I can’t afford to—literally.
“You all right?” a deep voice says, and when I look up, it’s Aiden. He’s a lot taller than I thought he was when he was sitting down. His all black suit fits him well, showing off his tall, muscular figure.
“Honestly?” He nods like he doesn’t want some bullshit answer. “No, this is definitely not what I was expecting when I came here today.”
“What were you expecting?” he asks, and I grimace.
“I was hoping I would have a brother, maybe find some closure.”
He removes a flask from the inside of his suit jacket, taking a heavy swig and holds it out in offering. I immediately clutch it in my hands and take a large sip. I wince when the whiskey burns my throat and then hand it to him. He takes the flask back with a smirk, and I’m happy at least one person here doesn’t seem to despise me.
“What does having shares mean? Does it mean I have a job?” I ask, feeling like a complete idiot. My degree is in digital design, not business. Do I just have stakes, or am I part of the decision making? I’m truly not sure. All I know is that I need something, sleeping in my car or hotels here and there is not working out.
“Do you need a job?” he asks, and I bite my lip and nod my head. He pulls a card out of his pocket and hands it to me. His face doesn’t hold much expression, but at least it’s not hostility.Aiden Carlson, CFO Kemper’s Sports Supply. 3625 Henderson Avenue, suite B.“I’ll see you on Monday,” he says and he begins to walk away.
“Wait,” I say, following after him, my heel hitting the pavement the wrong way, causing me to start to fall. His long fingers wrap around my forearm as he pulls me upright. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, but he doesn’t look at me like I’m a clumsy idiot, he just holds on longer than he should. As soon as I’m standing completely straight, he lets go. I clear my throat. “Do you know where this cottage is?” I ask softly. I only booked the hotel for one night. I’m not sure what my plan was next. If things didn’t go well, I’d probably head back to Richmond, as much as I dread going back there and facing everything I left. I was hoping maybe I would be calling Florida home before I got that text from Zach. It seems like I might be getting my wish in a round-about way.
He taps the envelope in my hands, I nearly forgot I was holding it. “Everything should be in there.” I tilt my head at him and wonder just how close he was to my father. I nod and give Aiden a tight smile.
“Thanks again.”
“Watch your step to the car, yeah?” he says with a smirk. I can only imagine how pink my cheeks are right now as I turn, very carefully, to make sure I don’t eat shit on my way to my dated Chevy Malibu.
As soon as I get into the driver’s side, I delicately open the envelope. There are a few documents inside about my shares for the sports supply company and the deed to the cottage, whose address I plug in my phone. A set of keys come jangling out, and lastly a handwritten letter. My hands shake as I unfold the ripped-out piece of lined paper and read.
Jessica,
If you’re reading this, that means that I failed you. I want to let you know that I did love you, and I’m sorry that it wasn’t in a way that you deserved. At my core, I was a coward, afraid to face my wife and live up to my decisions. You were never a mistake. The only mistake I ever made was not being a proper father to you. I hope that you find the cottage as peaceful as I did. While I know that shares in Kemper’s doesn’t fix anything, I hope that it gives you some stability to follow your dreams. I wish I wasn’t such a prideful man and that I could have done better by you. Know that you are loved and special.
-Dad
A tear stains the letter as I delicately fold it up and place it back into the envelope for safe keeping. I lean my head against the headrest of the car and continue my breathing from earlier. His words were ones I always wanted to hear, but I wanted them from his lips, not off a page beyond the grave. I feel frustrated, sad, and overwhelmed as I back out of the parking spot and listen to the directions on the GPS to get to the cottage I just inherited from a man I barely know—knew.
* * *
I’m not sure what I expected, but a small, light-blue house directly on the beach was not it. The house is well kept, with immaculate siding, white shutters, and flora that has clearly been maintained throughout the front yard. I take the folder, the house key, and my purse as I get out of my car and walk up the two steps to the bright pink door with a lighthouse welcome sign hanging on the front.
I swallow, turn the key in the lock, and open the door. The inside is modern, opening up into the living room that has a beige couch, TV, and nautical decor throughout. To the left is the simple eat-in kitchen and to the right are three doors. I open the first one and the room has mostly stuff piled in it, a lot of beach chairs, wooden lighthouses, and boogie boards. The second door is a full bathroom that’s simple, yet efficient. The last is the owner’s suite. There’s a queen bed with—you guessed it—lighthouse themed sheets and decor. There is a private bath, fully decorated with a lighthouse soap dispenser, a wooden lighthouse on the wall, and even a toilet seat cover decorated with even more lighthouses.
I sigh, tossing my purse and the envelope on the nightstand before lying down on the bed. The bed is far softer than I imagined, and I watch as the fan spins rapidly. When I turn to the nightstand, there’s a picture of my father, smiling widely as he holds up a fish that he caught.
I’m not sure if it’s the photo or the heavy weight of the day finally hitting me, but it’s then that I finally break. Tears streaming down my face as I grieve the man I never got to know, his pretty words, the disappointment of meeting my brother, and the overwhelming nature of my father’s last wishes.
It’s pretty fucked up when I think about it. The way I never had a dad but wanted one so badly. If I’m being honest, I just want someone to take care of me for once. I guess my father is doing that in his own way, in a way he couldn’t handle while he was alive.
But even so, these are financial things. Is this job and the cottage happening at a time I absolutely needed them? Completely. But yet, I feel I’d give it all up to just have someone actually care about me in the slightest. I groan and reach into my purse, taking a Xanax before lying back on the soft sheets, hoping that sleep doesn’t evade me and that I can shut my mind off for at least a few measly hours.
2
EVERYONE KNOWS
I spent the weekend crying,eating, and watching theReal Housewives of Atlanta. I also spent a good majority of the time slowly spiraling and wondering what the fuck I’m doing. Can I really accept this cottage? The shares? The job?
It didn’t take long for me to come to the conclusion that I could absolutely accept these gifts, but I still worry about the repercussions. The way Zach and his mother looked at me, like I was an abomination or some sort of mutant, it has me unsteady. I wonder if he plans to take legal action like he said.
The worst he could do is ask for a paternity test—which has already been done. As much as I might wish Collin was an actual father, he did pay my mother child support, not that I really ever saw any benefits of that money.
I try to not go down a rabbit hole of thoughts about my mother. She had her addictions, her problems, but she did love me, at least as much as she was capable.
