He leans his weight against his desk, his gaze seething.
I match his energy and lean in as well. I feel the weight of Micah at my back, silently conveying to both Mr. Townsend and me that he’s on my side. I probably don’t deserve that from him, but I’ll take it.
“Let me be clear,” Mr. Townsend starts. “My priority was and still is Tanya. It was my duty to carry out her last wishes however she saw fit. You may not like it—and believe me, I understand why you wouldn’t—but that’s not my problem.”
We stare at each other until he looks away to grab a file off his desk. That should feel like a win, but instead it feels like he couldn’t be bothered to engage in my childish games.
“Let’s get started,” Mr. Townsend announces.
“Wait a minute,” I interrupt.
He pulls his eyes away from the file, seemingly ready for another insult to be hurled his way.
“Shouldn’t we wait for whoever else is coming?” I motion around Micah and myself to the otherwise empty office.
“No one else is coming, Ms. Jenkins.” He waits for me to take a seat before continuing. “Mrs. Holden left everything to the two of you.”
Micah and I share a look of disbelief. Tanya had other family and friends, causes that meant a lot to her. Why would she leave everything to us?
“That can’t be right,” Micah interjects.
“I wrote the will up for her, Mr. Wright. I assure you, it’s correct. There are some caveats, though.”
He hands over a letter that we grab in unison.
Dear Dani and Micah,
If you’re reading this, I’m dead.
I would apologize for the dramatics, but really, what were you expecting?
Now, I know the two of you well enough to know you’re beating yourselves up for being unaware of my illness. To that I say, get over yourselves. How could you know something I purposefully didn’t tell you?
I’m sorry for keeping it from you. Micah, you’re probably sitting there internalizing everything, wondering how you could’ve saved me. Dani, you’re probably burning with anger and taking it out on poor Victor. Stop that.
Trust me when I say, I did what I thought was best. Watching the life slowly fade from my eyes is a fate I could never put on you. I did it with my mother and some days I remember those final moments more than I remember her life. I don’t want that for you.
Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting the two of you. You stormed into my life and completely decimated my carefully laid plansto be the aloof bombshell that everyone wanted to be around yet no one really knew. I swear George sent you. The bastard had the audacity to make me a widow at the age of thirty-six, and over two decades later—instead of sending me a new man to occupy my golden years—he sent me two ambitious kids with tender hearts that sucked me in.
Dani, you showed up at the rec center with so much bravado. Anyone who even thought of stepping on your dreams of becoming a model felt your wrath. You had a laser focus that demanded attention and I couldn’t help but to give it to you.
Micah, we may have met under unusual circumstances, but at a young age you had this quiet confidence about you. I’ve come across many arrogant artists in my day, and when you walked into my class, your smirk made me think you’d be no different. I’ve never been more happy to be wrong. You kept to yourself, but you were always watching, observing. You always knew exactly what you wanted to do with your work, but you were also always the first to help someone when they didn’t.
Life has thrown you both curveball after curveball, and it’s molded you in different ways. Dani, you’ve become scared of letting yourself have anything good, for fear of losing it. You deserve all the good things. Grab them and hold on tight. Micah, you’ve become convinced that you don’t deserve the good things that have come to you. I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you this, but let me reiterate the point: you have earned every bit of your success. Do not let anyone, including yourself, steal your joy.
I have watched you both grow from young hopefuls with dreams and ambitions to still young but older hopefuls who have actually seen their dreams realized. Some of thosedreams haven’t been what you thought and some have been more than you imagined, but you’ve accomplished them all the same. If I could give you any advice? It would be to never stop dreaming. If you stop, what reason is there to wake up?
Okay …
Well, now that I’ve buttered you up, I figured it’s time to make my final requests.
Here’s the first:
I instructed Victor to give you this letter after the funeral so that this would make more sense. I’m sure you noticed that my funeral was far from anything I would’ve ever associated my name with, full of phony try-hards I absolutely despised in life.
That’s because the funeral was for appearances only. People love to act like they give a damn about you once you’re gone when they wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire when you were alive. That’s fine, let the frauds shed their crocodile tears. I don’t want them anywhere near my real homegoing.
That’s where you come in. There isn’t anyone else I’d want to plan my homegoing than you two, so should you choose to accept, I leave this and the task of cleaning out my house in your hands. I want you to hold a gala in my name and auction off my things for charity. I’ve been fortunate enough to accumulate quite a few gems over my lifetime, and it would mean the world to me for them to find new homes that will cherish them as I did.
