Beloved (Toni Morrison Trilogy #1)(70)
“There were times we had fun. I remember a family vacation to Florida, and I clung to that memory when I was younger. But the older I got, the more and more bitter she got, until I left for college—which she refused to help me with. She thought I was an idiot and wouldn’t make it through year one, let alone get a degree. I really hated her during that time. But I proved her wrong. I busted my ass and got grants and loans to pay for my education. I refuse to fail and school was no different.” I look away, embarrassed by my rant. I didn’t mean to tell him all that. A simple no would have sufficed.
The car slows and comes to a stop in front of a tall building. This will be the final piece to my father’s part in my life. The moisture builds in my eyes as I think of the few good memories I have of him—the times he showered me with adoration, when he sang to me, when we played games, and when he helped with my homework. It surprises me that I remember any of them since they weren’t a large part of my life. Still, they were all I had to cling to during my darker times.
Whatever’s showing on my face gives Jackson pause. “Catherine, what’s wrong?” The concern in his voice chips away at my resolve.
“I’m fine.” I turn away, trying to gather myself so I can face this. Suddenly it feels like the car is closing in—I need to get out of here. Practically falling out of the car, I right myself and clench my hands. I can do this. I can go in there, find out what I need to be here for, and leave.
Jackson is behind me in a heartbeat, turning me around to face him. “If you’re fine, then why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”
“I’m just … nervous.” I try to shrug it off so I can get this over with. Am I scared? Yes. Am I ready to lay to rest a piece of the puzzle that’s been missing since I was a child? Yes. I close my eyes, shake my head, and gather all the strength I can.
“You don’t have to do this. We can come back if you’re not feeling well.”
“Jackson, I have to do this now.”
“No, you don’t.” His jaw is set and his features appear angry, yet his voice is filled with empathy and understanding. “You need to be sure you’re strong and ready to face it. Let’s go up and reschedule. When you rush trying to get it over with, it only leaves a mess afterward.”
I glance at him curiously, wondering about that last statement. “No, I’m doing this today. If I leave here, I’ll never come back.” I take a step closer to him, grasping his hand in mine. My eyes soften and my heart swells from his concern. I need him. I need his strength even if it’s only him sitting beside me through this. “Please, I can’t do this alone.”
His body stiffens at my plea, but he doesn’t answer. I beg with my eyes as he looks away and releases my hand. He takes a deep breath and grips the back of his neck. Though it’s my father whose affairs we’re here to settle, by the way he’s acting you’d think Jackson was just as upset by this whole thing as I am. I can see how hard this is for him, but I don’t understand why. It goes beyond his worry for me. It’s personal. What inner struggle is he battling right now?
He takes a step forward. “I’m not going to make you do this alone. I promised I’d be here. If this gets to be too much, you say the word and we’re gone.”
I manage a half smile as I lift my head. Another piece of my battered heart was claimed by Jackson Cole.
“Thank you,” I say. Our fingers interlace as we enter the building.
Jackson lifts my hand, tenderly pressing his lips against my fingers. The whisper of his voice radiates to my heart as he gently says, “Of course.”
He lifts me up and keeps me safe. I hope he doesn’t let me fall.
Entering the upscale Manhattan law firm of Coogan, Goldstein & Leibowitz, the fear of the unknown is choking the life out of me. I have no idea what to expect or what my father could have left for me. All I keep thinking about are the possibilities—I could get answers today, or more questions. Why was I required to come to the office? Why couldn’t they have mailed me the paperwork? Is there something here I need to see? I can’t answer any of these questions, but they keep coming. What if he left some kind of video? Will I want to watch it? With each new thought comes a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. My fight or flight reflexes are in high gear, and if it weren’t for Jackson holding my hand, I’d be fleeing back into the elevator and getting the hell out of here.
Jackson gives my hand a small squeeze and I look at his apprehensive face. “I know you said we should do this today, but you’re pale and shaking.”
I’m shaking? I didn’t even notice.
“I’m just nervous because of all the possibilities. I don’t know what to expect. What if he had another kid and they’re here?” I somehow manage to choke the words out.
Stopping, he releases my hand and moves to cradle my head. My heart rate slows at his gentle touch. His eyes penetrate my fear and his voice is tender. “I’ll be here the whole time. All that’s going to happen is the lawyer will read the will, you’ll find out what you were left, and then we’ll go. No matter who else is here, if you don’t want to deal with them, you don’t. Okay?”
I give him a nod, trying to keep myself together while drawing strength from him.
We enter the office. It’s nondescript and simple—and empty. More than anything I’m grateful for this because if there were a long lost sister sitting here, I might have collapsed. Jackson’s strong hand grips mine. He’s pretty focused on making sure I’m not having an emotional breakdown. As long as he’s here, I’m okay.