The Space Between Us (26 page)

Chapter Five

Charlie

   I shut the door to my motel room
and walked towards my car.  I couldn’t bring myself to stay at my father’s house.  I hadn’t even been inside it since I’d been back in Willow Falls.  I didn’t know what to do about it and I figured I would have to go there at some point, but I was going to avoid it as long as possible.  I wasn’t ready to see all of my father’s things waiting for him to return.  Not ready to try and sift through the life he’d left behind.  No.  I’d let that wait for a little while.

   I wasn’t
in any rush to get back to New York. I wasn’t even really sure there was anything to go back to.  Explaining to David that I didn’t want him to come to my father’s funeral hadn’t left our relationship in a very stable place.  He told me that if I went without him, if I chose to go through such an emotional and tumultuous time without him, then I didn’t need him the way he needed me.  I couldn’t disagree with him.  I didn’t need him. I used him for five years – used him to feel a little normal, a little less crazy, and a little less lonely.  But I didn’t need him, didn’t love him.  So I was back in Willow Falls alone, only this time I was a little more alone than I had been in a while and it sucked.

   I was on my way to pick up Reeve who insisted that she come with me to the reading of my father’s will.  There was no way to avoid driving p
ast the elementary school we all attended.  I told myself I wasn’t going to look, wasn’t going to force myself to think about the past, but my eyes couldn’t be controlled and wandered over the school grounds as I drove by.  I saw the swing set I’d spent countless evenings on with him, spotted the alleyway we would walk through together.  Seeing all of these places, imagining ourselves young and carefree, reminiscing about our childhood, wasn’t what I needed this morning.

   When I pulled up in front of Reeve’s house I saw her door open and she stepped out.  Her husband was right b
ehind her and she turned to give him a quick kiss on the lips.  I had met her husband once when I attended their wedding.  It was a destination wedding in the Bahamas which was the only reason I agreed to go.  I would not come back to Willow Falls for her wedding, there was too high of a risk coming back here.

   He seemed
like a nice man and it was obvious he loved Reeve very much.  Their kids were adorable.  There were times I felt guilty that her kids didn’t know me and I wasn’t a bigger part of their lives, but being around kids was just too difficult for me.  I hated being so broken.  I hated that I couldn’t let go of everything that happened, or move on, but I couldn’t find a way to be ok. 

   “Hey Charlie,” she said with a smile as she got in the car.  I found it comforting that as we drove to the lawyer’s office she still talked non-stop.  She was going on and on about some disaste
r that happened that morning, something involving her youngest child and a toilet.  I tried to listen but found myself focusing on the cadence of her words, the rhythm of her voice.  Luckily Reeve rambled the entire way to the office never asking me for any interaction.  When we arrived she continued her chatting until we were well inside the building standing at the receptionist’s desk.

   “Hi, my name is Charlie McBride and I have an appoin
tment with Mr. Libman.”  The woman looked at her computer screen and then back up to me.

   “Of course.  Let me walk you back to the conference room.  Mr. Libman is out of the building but should be here very soon.”  I smiled at her as she stood and led us to a room with a long conference table
.  I smiled politely at her as I took a seat while Reeve sat down next to me.  “Can I get the two of you anything to drink?  Water? Tea? Coffee?”  The receptionist asked.  I shook my head.

   “No, t
hank you.  I think we’re fine,” Reeve answered with a smile.  She left the room and Reeve and I exchanged glances.  “Thanks for moving the meeting up to this morning.  I really appreciate it.  We’ve had this birthday party planned for months now.  Are you sure you don’t want to come?  We’d love to have you.”

   This was probably the fifth time Reeve
tried to get me to come to her daughter’s birthday party.  I shook my head at her again.  “I’m just not up for it.  You can understand, right?  I’m sorry.”

   Reeve placed her hand on my shoulder and I tried not to pull away from her touch.  “I totally get it.  I just hope we get to see each other a little before you leave town.”
  I nodded and tried to smile, but didn’t want to give her false hope.  The only reason she was here with me was because she pretty much insisted and I didn’t want to argue with her.  I wouldn’t be going to her daughter’s birthday party, I wouldn’t be going to their house for dinner, and I wouldn’t be resuming my life like nothing had happened.  I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I didn’t plan on telling her that.

   A few minutes later a man opened the door and walked in.  Reeve and I both stood and he eyed us.  I stuck my hand out towards him.  “Good morning, I am Charlie McBride.”  I tried to sound confident and strong, not like the scared young girl I was beginning to feel like.
  “This is my friend Reeve.  She’s here for emotional support.”  He nodded at Reeve and smiled.

   “Hello Ms. McBride, my name is Phillip Libman.  I am sorry for your recent loss,” he said
as he gently shook my hand, sounding sincere but still rehearsed.  He was probably very used to saying that to people.  I tried not to let it bother me.  “Let us take a seat and get started.”  He motioned towards the seat I just vacated.  I sat and took a deep breath, not ready to go through this.  Reeve reached over and placed her hand over mine that rested on top of the table.

   “Ms. McBride, I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t usually handle wills.  My
law firm isn’t typically involved in probate law.  We did this as a favor to your father as we all respected him very much.  So, if it’s ok with you, I’d like to skip over the legal jargon and get to the real meat of the document.”  I nodded, agreeing, but confused as to how my father knew this man and how they’d come to respect him so much.  “Your father was very well organized and did a very good job planning for his passing.  He made it abundantly clear from the very beginning that you were his main concern and he simply wanted you to be comfortably situated after he was gone.”  He looked at me and I felt his sincerity in those words.  The stinging I felt in the back of my throat was familiar by this point and I struggled to hold back tears at the mention of my father’s thoughts towards me.  If there was one thing I was sure of, it would always be that my father loved me.  So, I wasn’t surprised to hear that his will was a representation of that.  Reeve pulled out a small packet of tissues from her purse and handed them to me.  I took them from her, grateful for them, grateful for her, too, in that moment.

   “Thank you,” I mouthed at her, not trusting my voice to work.
  She squeezed my hand and it was the most comforting thing I’d felt in years.

   “Your mother had a very good life insurance policy, Ms. McBride.
  When your father received the money, he never touched it.  He put it into an account that had very generous interest rates and it’s been growing for the last twenty years.  Your father also had a large life insurance policy.  After his diagnosis he wasn’t able to add to it, understandably, but I am sure you will have enough to be comfortable for the rest of your life.”  Mr. Libman moved some papers around, looking for something in particular.  He found it and pinpointed it with his finger, reading the words to me.  “The total estate left by Mr. Charles Anthony McBride to his only heir, a Ms. Charlie Anna McBride totals six million, five hundred and fifty-five thousand, four hundred and twelve dollars.”

   “What?”  I couldn’t believe what he’d said.  There was no way my father had that much money.  He was a single father, a widower.  He worked hard his whole life, never spent money on anything frivolous.  He didn’t
have
money.  “That can’t be right,” I added, completely astounded.  “Six
million
dollars?”

   “There are about five million dollars in liquid assets; money in bank accounts or invested in stocks that can be
liquefied at any moment.  Your father met with our personal accountant before he passed and I can assure you that the money invested is protected and smartly distributed.  You are welcome and encouraged to meet with him.  In fact, your father prepared for that too and any meetings you have with him have been prepaid.  We are hoping you avail yourself to that privilege your father put in place for you.”  He paused, again looking down at his paper.  “The other one point five million dollars is in the house in Willow Falls, the 2004 Ford Focus that is currently on the property, and other smaller items that all add up to the figure I mentioned earlier.”

   I sat in that chair, silent and stunned, listening to this man talk.  Money wasn’t important to me, it never was.  I was taught that by my father.  So finding out that my father had five million dollars just sitting around was baffling.  “How is all of
this possible?”  I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

   “Your father was a planner, Charlie.  He wanted to make sure you were taken care of.  That you had everything you needed to be ok.”

   That part I understood.  New tears sprung to my eyes imagining my father putting everything in place before the cancer took him, preparing to die, making sure I would be set for life.  All the while, he never told me he was sick.  I would have done anything to be by his side during his last moments, to tell him that I loved him, to comfort him as he passed.  As difficult as it would have been for me, I wished he hadn’t denied me that.

   “Were you close with my father?  Is that why you agreed to handle his affairs?”

   Mr. Libman shifted in his chair and I saw his brain ticking away, obviously searching for an answer.  “I met your father on a number of occasions.  I have nothing but respect for him and know he was an upstanding man.  But no, I didn’t handle his case myself.”  He paused for a moment, then continued.  “Your father made it clear that you were to do whatever you wanted with the house in Willow Falls.  Sell it or keep it, the choice is yours as it now belongs to you.  Everything in the house now belongs to you as well.  There is one last item.”  He reached into his briefcase on the floor and pulled out an envelope.  “This is a letter your father wrote about a month ago.  He was very insistent that you receive it at the reading of the will and that you were not to open it until later.”  He handed me the envelope over the table and my fingers reached for it, trembling.  “I think he wanted you to wait a bit to read it,” he said softly.  “He didn’t say when exactly.  All he said was that you would know.”

   That answer made me angry. 
This
my father expected me to know.  He wouldn’t tell me anything, kept me in the dark for months about his illness, his
terminal
illness, but he expected me to be able to read his posthumous mind and inherently know when to open a letter from him.  I looked at the letter, with my father’s very clear penmanship across the front that read “Charlie Bear”, and tried to take deep breaths.  I ran my finger over the words, trying not to think too hard about the fact that this was the last thing from my father I would ever receive; no more birthday cards, no more Christmas presents, no more silly Saturday comic strips cut out and mailed to me randomly.  This would be it.  The very last part of himself he gave to me.  How could I possibly know when to open it?  When would it feel right to use up this last little bit?  I didn’t want to think about what the letter meant or how I would know when to open it.  I put it in my purse and tried my best to seem like I was ok with everything.  I’m sure the tear that ran down my face didn’t help my cause.  I wiped it away and then coughed through a small cry.  I needed this to be over.

   “Is there anything else?”

   “I just want to make sure you understand that if you need anything, anything at all, to come to us.  We can help you with the sale of the house, if you choose to sell it.  We can help answer any questions you have, legal or otherwise, please know that.” 

   I nodded, unable and unwilling to answer.

   “The only piece left is your signature. Feel free to read the document and then just sign at the bottom of the last page.”  He slid a packet of paper over to me, along with a pen.  It looked huge and daunting.  I would be kidding myself if I thought I was going to read through it all.  I trusted my father and decided to just sign.  I took the packet and my eyes were drawn to the top letterhead.

Libman and Carmichael

Attorneys at Law

Carmichael?  I dropped the pen and looked up at Mr. Libman.  I’m sure I looked panicked, because he looked like a deer in headlights.  My gaze drifted to Reeve and she looked nothing but guilty.

   “Carmichael?”  I asked her.

   “Charlie, just sign the papers and we can go,” she said softly.  That was all I need
ed to confirm what my gut had already told me was the truth.  My eyes went wide and wild, desperately looking around, trying to ground myself in a room that now held a whole new meaning and feeling. I grabbed the pen and frantically scrawled my name along the line that begged for my signature.

   I picked up my purse and nearly sprinted for the door to the conference room.  ‘Stay calm.  He’s not here.  You won’t see him.  Everything’s fine’.  Those were the things I was repeating to myself to try and not freak out. 
I was tricked, tricked into coming here, tricked into thinking about someone I had tried not to think about for so long.  I swung the door open and rushed towards the exit.  I saw the receptionist stand as I ran past her, frantically trying to get to someplace with more air, someplace not closing up on me.  I made it outside, anxious for a wide open space.  What I found, instead, was Asher.