Letters to Nowhere(86)

“You want to sell my house?” I almost stood up in my chair. So many emotions had hit me at once. “And why would I need Coach Bentley’s permission?”

Bentley’s eyes widened, and then he let out a breath and looked right at me. “Your grandmother turned the legal guardian rights over to me. It’s just a technicality. If you needed medical attention, she’s so far away. It was easier this way. There was no reason to mention it because she’s still very involved in many of the details that I have nothing to do with.”

Grandma didn’t even want to be my legal guardian? Is that why Bentley had cut Nina Jones off when she asked about the notarized form to travel with a coach outside of the country? My coach was my guardian, apparently, so I didn’t even need a letter like everyone else.

Nick Stone looked extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden, and I had the feeling he didn’t usually do the personal interactions. He probably just showed up and delivered forms and technical stuff without having to sit in an office with an emotionally unstable teenager.

Nick scratched the back of his head, eyes bouncing between me and Bentley. “Well, I suppose we could turn the account over to her, use those funds for the mortgage payments, but it won’t last forever and there’re taxes and upkeep. If the house just sits there, the value is going to plummet if you do choose to sell it eventually.”

He was absolutely right. What the hell was I supposed to do with a house I wasn’t even willing to set foot in? Why hadn’t this crossed my mind before today?

Because I put them in there…because I’m away at camp writing letters.

It would be summer soon and the grass would start growing, and my dad wouldn’t be there to pull his riding mower out of the shed and my mom wouldn’t be there to plant flowers. And the hedge trimmer Dad had a sick obsession with had probably rusted over from the icy winter. And I couldn’t do all that stuff. Had Grandma even had it cleaned in the last four months? I was nearly positive she’d had something done to maintain it, but she wasn’t exactly young herself, so how long could I expect her to take care of all of that?

But all the logical thinking and rationalizing and analyzing didn’t make it physically possible for me to hold a pen and lift my hand and sign my parents’ house away. My house.

Bentley must have seen the panic on my face because he turned to Nick and said, “I think Karen might need to get back to you with a decision.”

I nodded, grateful for Bentley’s intervention.

Nick stood up right away. “Of course, take as much time as you need. I’ll check back with you next week.” He gave me a small smile. “It might be nice for you to have some funds for college or whatever you might need it for in the future. I think your dad would have wanted you to not have to worry about money.”

I looked away from him, hating that my dad could plan for things like life insurance and secret savings accounts for his only child, but he couldn’t keep himself from drinking and driving. “I don’t want the money. I don’t want any of it.”

Nick Stone’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but no words came out. I sat up straighter, trying to look more adult and less like a pouty teenager. “If I do decide to sell the house and the cars, you’re a lawyer, right? You can give the money to charity or something? I’ll pay all my bills first or whatever, but I don’t want the money.”

I must have stumped him, because Bentley finally got up and opened the door for the poor lawyer we had cornered in this office. “We’ll talk about it and get back to you. It’s kind of a bad time.”

Yeah. Indefinitely a bad time.

Nick handed Bentley a business card and then said a polite good–bye to both of us. I stood up to get back to practice, but Bentley stopped me at the door. “Let’s sit down and talk for a minute,” he said.

I shook my head. “There’s nothing to talk about. Not anything that’s going to change the situation.” I waited for him to argue, but there was no argument because I was right. “I’m going to Chicago, and I don’t need this kind of distraction right now.”

That seemed to satisfy him, because he opened the door and let me back in the gym. Jordan found a way to walk past me and asked who the dude in the blue suit was.

“Just a lawyer who needed some signatures. Insurance and stuff.”

He looked at me carefully and nodded. I could feel this distance growing between us and I wanted to pull him back, and at the same time, I cared about him too much to drag him under with me. How much more of my drama could he handle on top of his own dramatic life?

“You okay?” Blair whispered when I returned to vault.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” To prove my point I put on plenty of chalk and took off down the runway, completing a good vault that didn’t include slipping and landing on my back.

***


April 17

Jordan,




I want to say so many things right now but it feels like I’ve put this wall between us, or maybe you have because it’s just too much or because you feel like you failed and you haven’t. Except I’m back to writing you letters and that’s probably not a good sign, considering you’re sitting right beside me at the moment.




Love, Karen




We were sitting on living room couch, not talking about the man that showed up during tonight’s practice. Jordan was doing homework and I was doing homework and trying to salvage some part of us by asking him for help, which I actually kind of needed anyway.