“The guy wouldn’t have left me shit!” he argued back.
“That doesn’t matter. Your mom could use the support. You need to be there—for her and for yourself.” I eyeballed him, pointing my finger up at his face and putting on the voice my mother used when she was determined to get her way. “You’re going to that meeting, Carson McAvoy.”
He harrumphed at me like a grumpy old bear and stalked out of the room, slamming around in the garage until the girls got home from preschool.
Halfway through our evening meal, while the girls played with their carrot sticks and made mountains out of their mashed potatoes, Carson looked across the table at me and nodded once.
That was all the consent I was gonna get, but I smiled big and, later that night, told him how proud I was of him.
And I still am.
Curling my fingers around his, I give them a squeeze while the lawyer starts to read the document aloud.
I keep an eye on my husband’s face, staying attuned to his every emotion until his mouth pops open. I whip my head to face the lawyer and have to whisper, “What did you just say?” I blink as the lawyer pauses to glance up at me. “How much?”
“One-point-four million dollars.”
Now my mouth is dropping open. Swiveling to face Breanna, I bulge my eyes at her, double-checking that I’m hearing this right.
She nods, her eyes welling with tears. “And he left it all to Carson.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The lawyer smiles.
Carson clears his throat, shuffling in his seat and gripping my fingers like his life depends on it. “When? I mean, how?” He shakes his head, blinking furiously. “I mean, what the actual fuck?”
I can’t help a soft snicker as he turns to his mother.
“Did you know he was loaded?”
“Well, I mean, I…” She shrugs. “He had investments. When we were married, he was into that kind of stuff, and he’d squirrel away what little we had.”
“I thought it all got taken off him when he went to prison.”
“No.” The lawyer gives me a confident smile. “And after he got out, he seemed really determined to get his life back on track.”
Carson scoffs. “Is the money legal? He didn’t get it by?—”
“No. This money has nothing to do with his past gang affiliations,” the lawyer assures us. “He was left a chunk of money when his parents passed away, and he put it to good use. It’s matured over the years, and you now have access to the lot.”
“Me?” Carson touches his chest. “Why would he do that?”
“Because you’re his family,” Bree replies. “He loved you. He always did.”
“But…” Slumping back in his chair, Carson runs a hand through his messy blond locks and mumbles, “He didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“He was convinced his stink would rub off on you, but he was wrong about that. And he came to see the truth… in the end,” Bree finishes softly, then points to the lawyer. “This will… this money… it’s his gift to you, Carson. Proof that he always cared for you. Even though he couldn’t show it, he…” She bites her lips together, emotion getting the better of her. “This is his love letter to you.” She sniffs. “So you need to take this money, and you need to do something amazing with it.”
“Oh, yes, that’s in the will too.” The lawyer clears his throat. “I was just getting to that part.”
We all look up at him in unison while he reads the rest of the will and Griffin’s stipulation that the money has to go toward something Carson is passionate about. Some of it can be used to invest for the future, but a chunk has to be used for joy.
“He said that?” Carson’s voice is skeptical.
The lawyer chuckles. “Not in those exact words, but he made it clear that, you know, you must use this money for something special. You’re not allowed to use it up on a mortgage or day-to-day expenses. He wants you to spend it on a dream vacation or?—”
“A garage,” I whisper. I have to say it.
Carson’s been wanting to run his own garage since he graduated from college and decided to change course and do a mechanics apprenticeship. He’s spent years working for other people, but now that we’ve moved back to Nolan to be closer to my parents, he’s working for a complete pill, and he’s over it.
