Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) (11 page)

Even though meteorologists had said the heat was from a warm air mass that moved in from Arizona, it still left Grace bewildered. It normally wasn’t hot like this until summer. The air circled about her in a heavy, humid shroud. It was so hot and thick it choked her. Once inside the car, panic settled in as she tried to get the key in the ignition. Coupling the desperate need for circulating air with her wound-up nerves, it took a couple of tries until she was successful in starting the car and driving away. Ahh, she thought. Air.
The moving air did nothing to settle her nerves, however.

The truth was, she didn’t want to go anywhere near that meeting.

Grace envisioned her spectacle of a family. Would they put on a show? Shed a few tears? Maybe get angry if they didn’t get what they thought was fair? Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them fast away. Her family wasn’t worth the energy it took to cry. The memory of how horrible each of them had been to her grandfather pulled angrily at her heartstrings.

With her cell in hand, she opened the map app and double-checked the address before following the directions to Rasmussen & Minor in Bountiful.

After driving north on 200 West for a little while, Grace saw in the distance the town’s name, Bountiful, spelled out by a plush green hedge lining the state park the GPS indicated she was to take a right turn after.

The law offices of Rasmussen & Minor sat on the corner, with entrances facing both Center and Main. Not exactly positive which entry was best, she turned right on Main and parked in the parking lot under the shade of a weeping willow tree.

The attorney’s office was a three-story brick and stucco colonial, with red brick on the bottom of its facade and brown stucco on the top. Large white marble pillars stretched up on either side of both entryways leading into the building. Inside the door, she found a glass-encased directory. Her eyes scanned the list of names, and lingered over Paul Minor for a few seconds before she walked to the elevator. His office was on the third floor.

Nervous moisture coated her palms. Completely unaware of the slight left-to-right shuffle she was doing, Grace danced on her toes until the chime of the elevator reminded her to calm down. She drew in a breath and stepped into the hallway, following the arrow leading to the number of Minor’s office. With entirely too much force, she pushed the door open. The bell hanging from his office door clanked angrily against the wood frame, alerting everyone that an out-of-emotional-control female was on the loose. Grace winced with embarrassment.

“
May I help you?” the receptionist asked, offering a smile that showed just a little too much teeth. Grateful for the lack of attention drawn to her overly dramatic entrance, Grace stepped up to the counter.

“
Um, yes. I have an appointment with Paul Minor. I’m Grace Morgan.”

The receptionist shot out of her seat like someone ripped her up by her hair. “Of course, Miss Morgan. Right this way, please.”

Like a small child, she followed close behind. Grace nervously took in the office’s décor, looking everywhere but where she was walking, and almost ran into the lady’s back. Again
.
She seemed to be making a habit of that lately, and the thought inspired a bubble of nervous laughter that she fought to repress.

“
Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Soda? Water, perhaps?”

“
No, thank you. I’m fine.” They continued down the hall, Grace making sure to pay closer attention. She focused on her breathing and zeroed in on the hypnotic tick-tock of the receptionist’s brunette ponytail. It helped. Up until the lady stopped in front of the large double doors at the end of the hallway. The slight tap of the receptionist’s knuckles against the door caused a lump to form in Grace’s throat and her palms to go from sweaty to all-out drenched.

Reluctantly, Grace followed her inside. “It’s Miss Morgan, Mr. Minor.”

“
Thank you, Claire,” a man’s voice said, as she tried swallowing the lump down.

The room was big and bright. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the entire far wall. Palms housed in pots were placed in the narrow space between each of them. A large oval conference table was staged in the middle with matching brown leather chairs encircling it. A large flat screen nearly covered the entire wall behind where a middle-aged man stood, presumably her grandfather’s estate lawyer, Paul Minor. On his left, in front of the windows, her mother sat in one of the leather chairs, her hands crossed elegantly on the table as she quietly watched her approach. Otherwise the room was empty, which meant that her relatives weren’t there yet, and she unconsciously released some of the air stuck in her lungs.

“
Good afternoon, Grace,” the man said, as he walked around the table holding his hand out to her. As she shook it, he placed his other hand gently on top of hers and gazed at her with a solemn but kind expression as he continued. “I’m Paul Minor. It’s nice to meet you. Though I wish it weren’t under these circumstances.”

She couldn’t agree more.

When she took her hand back, she glanced at the floor blinking rapidly, her tears threatening to make another appearance. “Thank you,” she said quietly, not trusting her voice.

Mr. Minor extended his arm in a sweep around the table. “Please, take a seat wherever you like and we’ll get started.”

Confused, she brought her gaze back up to his. “We’re not going to wait for the others?”

“
There are no others. I sent a copy of your grandfather’s will to his other legatees via courier today.”

“
Oh.” Thank God, she thought, sending up a silent thank-you. “I thought there was going to be a reading of the will to everyone at once.”

The lines around his eyes crinkled a little more deeply as he smiled. “Thankfully, that only happens in the movies.”

“
Yes,” she agreed. “Thankfully.”

Grace chose the chair directly across from her mother, and to the right of Mr. Minor. Still hung over with guilt, she kept her eyes on the attorney. A stack of papers was slid in front of her as Mr. Minor told her he had highlighted the important things she should note, the remainder being the customary legal mumbo-jumbo put in all wills.

Immediately, words jumped off the page at her as she read over the document.

Bequeathed. Living. Granddaughter. Grace. Assets. Morgan Manor.

The more she read, the more the room spun about her. Without a doubt, the others would be pissed. Even though he had left his four nieces and a nephew forty-five percent of his estate, they would only focus on what they didn’t get. Fifty percent he had left to her.

She tried to continue reading the highlighted words, but it was hard wrapping her mind around all that her grandfather had left her. Way before his passing, she’d only hoped for the car, and since he’d passed, the house, but only because she considered it to be her home. Words failed her. Her eyes suddenly focused on a name she hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Richard Morgan.

A name—and a man—she hadn’t seen in fifteen years. Her stomach lurched into her throat as her emotions churned. Obviously, she had no right to feel this way since her grandfather had the right to leave his assets to anyone he chose, but she couldn’t help it. Anger rose up from deep down within her, and her mother flinched with surprise as she flung the documents across the top of the table. “Are you kidding me? He’s going to be taken care of for the rest of his life even though he abandoned me and
my mom?”

“
Grace,” her mother said softly, surprising Grace that her tone wasn’t chastising, but sounded more empathetic.

Apparently accustomed to outbursts like hers, the attorney tried diverting her attention to a large cloth bag he laid at her feet. “Your grandfather also asked that I give you this. There is an envelope in the front zipper pocket. You don’t have to read it now, of course.”

Still seething and feeling more than a little betrayed, Grace jerked her head down and picked up an army green backpack. “A backpack?” she asked incredulously.

“
I’m sure the envelope reveals the reasons, Miss Morgan.”

“
Oh, I’m sure,” she snapped. “Are we done?” She stared the attorney down, the manners her mother had drilled into her for all those years demanding that she wait to be dismissed. Grace had to get out of there. The walls were closing in fast, making it hard for her lungs to suck in air.

“
Unless you have any questions for me.” That sounded like permission to leave to her. She shot up from the seat, grabbed the bag, and stomped toward the door. “I stuck a copy of the will inside the bag for you,” he added. “Please let me know if you have any questions.”

“
Sure,” she said, without glancing back.

Quickly, Grace made her way to the elevators. She heard the clack of footsteps sounding behind her, but kept her face to the doors.

“
Grace?”

“
What!” she snapped, turning to face her mother.

“
Do you want me to drive you home?” Laney reached out a tentative hand to touch her arm, but drew it back and held it tightly against her stomach. Concern pinched her brows together, and Grace could see what looked suspiciously like tears forming in her eyes.

“
No,” Grace said, trying to calm herself. “I’m fine.”

Laney didn’t say any more as they both stepped quietly into the elevator. Just before the doors opened up on the first floor, Laney spoke up softly. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

Without looking at her, she replied, “Me too.” She then walked out of the building to her car and drove away.

Several times Grace glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure her mother wasn’t following. She flipped a quick turn into the park down the road, and drove into an area not visible from any roads going in or by the park. There was a baseball game in progress in a field close by, but no one was near the parking spot she chose at the far end of the lot. Still stewing, she slammed the gearshift into park, and smacked her palm against the steering wheel several times before slumping her body forward, resting her head against it.

The betrayal cut deep, settling in the marrow of her bones. How could he? She couldn’t believe her grandfather would take care of her father after he’d abandoned her. It didn’t make sense. Christophe had raised his son’s daughter. Helped his
son’s wife pay the bills and put food on the table. Scared away his
daughter’s nightmares. Kissed the boo-boos. Attended the dance recitals, Christmas programs, princess movies, and played in make-believe tea parties. He was a part of everything in her life that her father wasn’t.

And apparently her grandfather had forgiven him.

Well, she couldn’t. Forgiveness was lost on her and she didn’t care to go looking for it.

The sound of yelling intruded into her thoughts, probably a home run in the nearby game, and she lifted her head to see what the disturbance was about. Her eyes didn’t get past the backpack sitting on her passenger seat. She reached out her hand and turned it over, curious about its contents.

The letter was in the front zipper pocket like Minor had said. She turned the beige envelope over, and ripped it open.

My Dearest Grace,

If you’re reading this, it means that I’m gone and you’re already aware of two things: your inheritance and the mystery waiting for you to pick up before your eighteenth birthday. The backpack this letter was placed in was specially designed to safely hold the contents of the safe deposit box. You MUST use it when transporting the contents from the bank and anywhere else outside the manor.

The backpack is crucial, Grace. If you end up at the bank without the bag, you leave without the contents in the safe deposit box and don’t return until you have it. Then and only then do you retrieve what’s at the bank. Again, I can’t impress enough how important it is for you to take Quentin with you. You must trust and listen to him.

I love you so much, Grace. Don’t ever feel you’re unworthy, for you are worth a thousand times more than all that I could ever give you. I’m so very proud of the young woman you’ve become and honored that I’ve been blessed enough to be there every step of the way.

Don’t shed any more tears for me. You must go on to live your life and fulfill all that you’re meant to be. I’ll always be watching from afar.