Finding Julian (5 page)

“Sorry?” I interrupted.
“My…inheritance…?” I mumbled, completely surprised. Everyone seemed alarmed.
Marlene and Mackenzie both leaned over the sofa. Mr. Monroe flinched. Seven
slouched and stared at me, a smile fighting the corner of his lips.

I turned around to and gaze at Mr.
Cornwell, fearful of where this was going.

He continued reading, “I hereby turn
over the Vanderson estate, which includes my house and the remainder of my
wealth, to Julian Rowell. Before making a decision in how to deal with this, as
I know very well she will refuse, I ask that Julian please reside in the house
for at least one month. During that time, I implore her to develop an
understanding of the family business with the help of Beverly, as well as try
to establish a relationship with her sister. If after that time Julian still
wishes to deny her inheritance then she can do whatever she desires with the
entire Vanderson estate, but she cannot turn it over to anyone in the family,
not to Marlene, or her sister. And not even to you, Beverly. I trust Julian
will make the right decision based on her heart and not by anyone’s influence.
Signed, Mr. Cole Vanderson.”

“No!” Mackenzie and Mr. Monroe shouted
in unison.

“What!” Marlene screamed. She shot up
from the sofa. “He left it all to
HER
?” she pointed a trembling,
manicured finger at me. Her eyeballs expanded as if they were about to pop out
of her head.

“That can’t be,” Mackenzie shrieked. “It
must be a mistake. Let me see that!” She snatched the will from Mr. Cornwell
and re-read it.

Finally, Mackenzie peered up from the
paper. Her eyes watered and her face twisted so much I thought she was going to
change into a green monster.

She jumped up from the sofa and stood
beside her mother, pointing at me. “You tricked him!” No, not at me. She was
aiming at Aunt Bev.

“Stop it, right now!” Aunt Bev demanded.
“I did no such thing.”

The room filled with silence. Everyone
kept their gaze on me. I wanted to dispute the will, to ask Mr. Cornwell for a
way to turn the estate over to Mackenzie fast. But I couldn’t utter a word. My
head felt dizzy and my eyes blurred.

I pried my hand away from Aunt Bev’s and
got up from the sofa, only to find myself stumbling down to the floor. I closed
my eyes and wished this was just a bad dream, that when they’d open again, I’d
be back in my grungy Manhattan apartment. Only there was nothing but darkness
as I drifted away from them all.

Chapter Six

When I woke up
,
I was convinced I’d dreamt it all. That maybe without realizing, I’d hoped my
father had left it all to me. I mean, there was no way he would do that. It was
too crazy.

I released a titter and rolled over onto
my side. Aunt Bev was peering down at me, a somber look on her already feeble
face. This wasn’t a dream or my imagination gone wild. This madness was very
much real.

“Are you all right?” she asked, stroking
my forehead lightly.

Easing up, I rested my back against the
headboard. The shocking news started to play over in my mind. I wondered about
my father’s intentions, making such a decision. Did he feel obligated to give
me everything out of guilt?

“I’m good,” I finally said.

My cell phone started to vibrate. It was
still in my purse, which was tucked inside my travel bag on top of the table
next to the bed.

Aunt Bev eased away and started towards
the door. “You should answer it. Someone’s been calling you persistently all
evening.”

I wanted to ask her about my father, if
she knew why he gave me the estate. Only Aunt Bev was too swift. She was out
the door before I could mutter a word.

Slipping out of bed, I went over to the
table and answered it. “Mom, listen—”

“Jules, where are you?” she demanded.
Her voice was frantic. The words started to fly out all at once. “Did you have
the phone on silent or something? I’ve been calling you for more than three
hours now. Anyway, I need to know what time you want me to pick you up at Penn
Station.” She finally took a breath. “Then we can get your stuff out of the
apartment before your landlord throws them out.”

I swallowed and built up my nerve. “Mom,
you’ll never believe what happened.” Starting from the beginning, I explained
everything. When I finished, Mom didn’t make a sound.

“Hello? Mom? Are you still there?” I
confirmed.

“Ye-yes,” she stuttered, sounding
awestruck.

“What should I do?” I asked. I had a
migraine coming on from deliberating so much on my own.

“What do you think?” she screeched. “Put
the house on the market and collect the money once it’s sold.”

My eyes widened. I hadn’t thought of
doing
that
. This house, this
land
, had been in the family for
generations. There was no way I could simply sell it. I didn’t have the heart.

“Mom, I can’t do that.”

“Well, why not?” She sounded appalled.

“Because…” I hesitated. “It was his
father’s. It’s Aunt Bev’s home, and Mackenzie’s,” I sighed, not sure where that
came from. “As much as she hates me,” I added, “I can’t sell her home.”

  
Mom released a sarcastic laugh. It surprised me. “Julian, listen to me, do you
think that brat would do the same thing if she was in your shoes? Of course she
wouldn’t. I can only imagine how much she and that conniving mother of hers are
both boiling over with anger right now.”

I thought back to their reaction,
hearing the outcome of the will. “Yeah, they’re pretty mad at me right now. But
still, it seems so selfish to sell it and not consider their feelings.”

“Oh, my sweet girl, always thinking
about others,” she whispered. “Jules, save yourself the trouble and get rid of
it. Just come home. This is where you belong.”

I sat at the edge of the bed,
considering her words as I stared out the sliding glass doors at the darkening
sky and the bright silver moon starting to rise. The sound of the roaring ocean
below relaxed me.

There was a strange feeling in the pit
of my stomach, telling me I should at least understand my father’s objectives
before going back to New York. It had to be more than trying to get along with
my half-sister or even learning about his company. There had to be more to it
than that.

Getting to my feet, I said, “I’ll take care
of it, Mom. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll call you later.”

Mom gasped. “What? Does this mean you’re
not coming home?”

Was that what I was considering?

Tugging on the laced hem of my dress, I
breathed out my reply, “I’ll let you know when I’m coming.”

I hung up before she could press me
further about coming home.

After all, it was
my
decision. My
father had placed it all on
me
. Still, I needed to know why. The only
one with answers was Aunt Bev.

Remembering the journal I saw her with
on the beach that had my father’s name on it, I walked out the room in search
of Aunt Bev. I remembered her reaction, how she seemed very secretive, closing
the journal the moment I approached. She must have known his intentions, but
for how long?

Getting to the end of the passage, I
walked in on an intense conversation between Seven and his father in the living
room. Mr. Monroe shot me a nasty look as his eyes caught mine. My existence
seemed to bother him. He didn’t even know me.

“You should come home now,” Mr. Monroe
said, glancing back at Seven. “I’m sure
she
won’t let you stay here, now
that she has complete control over this place.”

“That’s not true,” I blurted out,
stepping closer to them. “Seven can stay here for as long as he wants. I’m in
no position of putting him out. You heard what my father wrote in his will.”

Mr. Monroe glared at me. He clenched his
fist and tightened his jaw. “A bastard child, not even my sister’s daughter…”
he shook his head.

My fingers balled into fists. I wanted
to punch him for saying that. “You—”

“Dad, stop,” Seven jumped in before I
could finish. It wasn’t going to be sweet. So I was glad he’d stood up to his
father on my behalf.

“Defend her all you want, son. But
this
girl,” he pointed at me. “I can see right through her. She’s just like that
slut mother of hers. She’s only here for the money.”

I couldn’t let that remark slide. I
marched right up to him and slapped the smug look off his face. “No one is
allowed to talk about my mother like that. No one. Not even you,” I snapped, shaking
my now sore hand.

Mr. Monroe’s eyes widened in horror. He
touched his cheek and growled, “You—”

“Stop it!” Aunt Bev called out. She
stormed down the spiral staircase into the living room and stood between me and
Mr. Monroe. “I’d like you to leave, Anthony.” She gestured towards the front
door.

His mouth clamped shut, humiliated. I
only felt regret for Seven, having to witness me slapping his father. I
wondered what he thought of me in this moment.

“I’ll be getting a lawyer for my sister.
You won’t stay here past tomorrow,” Mr. Monroe spat out through gritted teeth.
He turned and started for the front door, but despair hit him deeply when he
realized that Seven wasn’t following behind.

Mr. Monroe looked over his shoulder and
said in disbelief, “Son? Surely you aren’t staying?”

I glanced at Seven. He appeared
exasperated. Seven kept his back turned on his father as he said flatly, “I’m
staying here.” His voice sounded hoarse. His shoulders sagged as if a million
things were weighing down on him. I wanted to provide some comfort, return what
he had done for me at the funeral.

At the sound of the door slamming shut,
I looked over and saw that Mr. Monroe had left the guesthouse. Good.

“Well, that was dramatic,” Aunt Bev
chimed in, smiling tight-lipped at me.

I felt a little ashamed for losing my
cool. Actually, I wasn’t too mortified. Mr. Monroe deserved it. Still, I
thought an apology was at least necessary to Seven.

“Sorry I slapped your father,” I
murmured, barely meeting his eyes.

He shrugged. “My dad’s a jerk. What he
said about your mother was awful.”

Seven brushed my shoulder lightly as he
walked past me and down the passage. I wanted to follow him, make sure he was
okay. But I still needed to talk to Aunt Bev.

I spun and faced her fully. “Did my
father mention anything about giving me his estate in the journal you have?”

She raised her brows. Aunt Bev had a
look on her face as if she had been caught. Smiling innocently, she answered,
“It wasn’t clearly stated—”

“So you knew?”

She pursed her lips and fumbled her
words. “I…suspected something to that extent…but not…entirely.”

Dropping my hands to my side, I
continued to press her, “Why one month? What exactly does he want from me?”

“Forgiveness,” she said sharply. “I
thought that was made clear after Mr. Cornwell read the will.” There was still
evidence of her holding back details. It was written all over her face.

I stuck my hair behind my ear and asked
in a softer tone, “What
aren’t
you telling me?”

Aunt Bev tipped her head to the side and
narrowed her eyes. “Julian, are you going to stay? Is that why you’re asking me
all this?”

I exhaled deeply. “No…look, Aunt Bev, I
just want to know why me and not Mackenzie, or his wife.”

She folded her arms and stared
sympathetically at me. “Maybe your father felt you were more deserving of all
he’d worked so hard to build. Maybe he knew your heart without even getting to
know you.”

“Really?” I snorted, “How so?”

Aunt Bev moved closer to me and unfolded
her arms. “Because of your mother, Julian,” she said in a whisper. “Sarah’s a
good woman. Of course you would be just the same. Your mother didn’t come here
that day for money,” she went on, “She came here to give him one last chance,
which was to accept you as a Vanderson.”

I didn’t know what to say after that. My
mother never did explain to me why she had to see him before leaving for New
York. I only knew money wasn’t the case. Now it made sense. It was for
my
sake. She didn’t want me growing up thinking I had a father who didn’t want me.
Only, that’s exactly what happened. Yet, I wasn’t bitter. I was still holding
on to the hope that, maybe staying would heal my heart, somehow.

“One month though?” My voice came out
faint.

Aunt Bev heaved a sigh. “That’s all he
asked for. Think about it, Julian, what do you really have to go back to? No
job—”

“There’s my mom,” I cut her off.

She patted my arm. “Sarah will
understand. Find the part of you that’s missing, my dear. Then you decide.”

Her words resonated with me. “How could
you possibly have known that—” I broke off, my mind racing. All those years,
back in Manhattan, I’d tried to be strong and not think about my father. But
underneath it all, I was secretly waiting for him to call and invite me to
Narragansett, not my aunt.

“Selling isn’t an option,” I said, “I
wouldn’t do that to you. And since I can’t just hand it over to Mackenzie, I
guess I’ll stay and figure out a way with Mr. Cornwell. But it’s not for a
month, only until I sort out my options.”

Aunt Bev threw her arms around me,
hugging me gratefully. I slowly placed my hands at her back and hugged her in
return. It felt good, so warm and sincere.

I was seriously pissing off my mother by
staying in Narragansett. Still, one more day really wasn’t that bad. It was
enough time for me to find a way to give Mackenzie what she rightfully
deserved.