The Will(13)

He didn’t move.

I was about to open my mouth to tell him I wished for him to do so when he finally did.

He stepped back half a foot and stopped, locking his now-blue eyes with my sunglasses.

And it was then he said quietly, “It’s real good to finally meet you, Josie.”

And when he said it, he meant it.

And him meaning it, the tone in his voice, the intent look in his eyes, it gave me that feeling on my skin again. All over. A feeling that felt like an urge for me to do something, say something. I just didn’t know what.

I also didn’t know what to say.

So I inclined my head.

“The Market, see you there,” he murmured.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Later, Josie.”

“Good-bye.”

He lifted a hand in a low wave and walked away.

I watched him thinking it was quite remarkable how he moved that big body of his without it looking like it took any effort.

But in the back of my head, it occurred to me that this was so fascinating I could watch him move for a long time. Minutes. Hours.

An eternity.

On this utterly unhinged thought, my stomach twisted yet again and before I went off my lunch, I hit the button on the key fob to open the car so I could get in and get to the bank in order to begin my business that would conclude my time in Magdalene.

Forever.

Thus taking me to what I dreaded the most.

My final farewell to Gran.





Chapter Three


The Fourth Mrs. Jake Spear



I sat sipping Chambord on the veranda of Breeze Point, an excellent restaurant one town over from Magdalene. It, like Lavender House, sat on a cliff and its views were stunning, by day and, as it was now, by night.

In the clear, inky, star-filled night, I could see the lighthouse jutting out from Magdalene beaming its rotating beam.

If I’d left all the lights in the light room burning at Lavender House, I would have been able to see that too.

I knew this because Gran and I had been to Breeze Point often. We’d experimented once and found this to be true.

Breeze Point was an oft-visited destination for me and Gran. From when I would visit her as a little girl to when I took her there the summer before, we would dress up and come here to eat their superb lobster bisque, sublime crab cakes and their elegant take on whoopee pies.

All of which I’d eaten that night, remembering Gran and maybe not enjoying it as much as when she’d partaken of the same with me, but still enjoying it.

I was also there because it was not close to the Lobster Market where James Spear would be. I deduced I had probably at least a week of avoiding him and I did not delay in putting that in motion.

I drew in a deep breath as I drew the soft shawl closer around me to keep the evening chill of an early Maine September at bay.

I did this thinking that the day started out with a variety of surprises and it continued in this vein.

This being, I had gone to Magdalene Bank and Trust, spoken with the manager and found that I was in error about Gran’s assets.

She had fourteen thousand some odd dollars in her checking account.

She had twenty-seven thousand some odd dollars in certified deposits.

But she also had over five hundred thousand dollars in her savings account. And if that wasn’t enough of a surprise, she had over five million dollars in investments.

Further, the bank manager shared that a recent appraisal of Lavender House put it at over seven million dollars.

Seven.

Million.

Dollars!

The house had a great location, five bedrooms and was fabulous, but seven million dollars?

I had not stopped at Lavender House to pick up the key to her safe deposit box and I was glad of it. Knowing Gran was worth nearly thirteen million dollars was enough to take in for one day.

As promised, when I got back from the bank, I’d phoned Henry to check in. I’d told him of the rude Terry Baginski. I’d further told him of the money I’d found in Gran’s accounts and the appraisal of Lavender House (to which he’d whistled low in shock).

I had not, of course, told him my grandmother left me to an unknown, extremely masculine, quite attractive (okay…exceptionally attractive) man who had three children. Nor did I tell him of Gran’s gifts to his children.

I’d wait until later, when we were together in Rome (I hoped) or Paris (I vowed) and all of this was behind me.

“My Josephine is loaded,” Henry had remarked when I was done sharing my surprising day with him and he was not wrong.

I was. Between Gran’s money, as well as mine, I was loaded.

This was because I was paid well and I traveled so frequently and was so busy with Henry’s life, I’d never had a home of my own so I’d also never had that expense. When we settled for the brief periods of time that we did, I stayed in the pool house at Henry’s home in Los Angeles. And Henry paid for everything when we traveled. Therefore, with very few expenses of my own, I’d saved a great deal over the last twenty-three years.

A great deal.

So much, many could retire on what I had in my own accounts.

Add the money in Gran’s, I could be a lady of leisure.

Of course, this would bore me out of my skull so the thought entered my mind and left it precisely one second later.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t taken aback by what I’d learned that day about Gran’s finances.