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The attorney nodded. “Apparently so.”
Kneeling down to where Carter was sitting, I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Oh my God.”
The attorney continued, “As I mentioned, Mr. Reitman accumulated a considerable amount of assets over his lifetime. With no immediate family, he has named you the sole heir to his estate, which is valued at over twenty million dollars.”
I felt like I was going to collapse.
What did he just say?
Carter’s eyes bugged out. “Excuse me?”
“Gordon had invested considerably in real estate when he was younger and sold off his properties gradually over the past fifteen years. He had quite a bit of money put away as a result. Nevertheless, he chose to live modestly.”
Carter’s jaw dropped. “Wha…when did he put my name on there?”
“About a year ago, he came to me and changed the beneficiary. He’d previously left everything to a nephew by default. I specifically remember him pointing out that, in his words, the ‘no good son-of-a-bitch’ never paid him any visits. He knew that you were completely unaware of his wealth. Because he was sure you were helping him out of the goodness of your heart, he wanted to do this for you.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means that twenty million dollars will be put into your name very soon. We’ll set up another meeting at my office to make sure that all of the funds from the various accounts are transferred over properly.”
I just stood there speechless.
Carter looked at me then over at the attorney. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t feel like I deserve this.”
“Well, whether you deserve it or not is irrelevant, Mr. Clynes. The money is yours.”
IT TOOK A FEW MONTHS before it really sunk in.
Carter ended up donating some of the money to charity and setting up a scholarship in Bruce Reitman’s name. There was certainly a lot left over, enough to keep us set for life. We didn’t feel guilt
y about keeping the rest of the money, since it was what Gordon intended.
The irony wasn’t lost on us, that once we’d stopped thinking about money and stopped letting it impact our lives, we ended up running into more than we knew what to do with.
Carter continued to work as a pilot for now while I moved into his Florida condo permanently. He said he’d know when the time was right to quit. It was a good feeling for him to not have to work, though, but to only fly because he enjoyed it. It wasn’t until he was given the choice to quit that Carter realized he did truly love being a pilot. There would come a time when kids entered the picture, when he would likely cut down or quit. We would deal with that when it came.
As for me, I was giving the old ladies here at Silver Shores a run for their money. I’d notified Carter’s Angels (as I’d dubbed them) that they could scale back on the meals for my man. It actually gave me immense pleasure to learn to cook the things he loved.
Florida was my home now. Even Matilda the cat had given up her determination to scare me away once she realized I was there to stay.
Feeling eternally grateful for the comfortable life Carter had afforded me, I’d also discovered a way to give back. My grandmother used to always say if you want to change the world or make a difference, you don’t have to travel very far. Just look in your own backyard for the people who need you.
Carter was the best example of that. One day, I’d been thinking back to what he used to do for Gordon, and it hit me that there were many basic things that elderly people could no longer do for themselves. Things we take for granted, like the ability to bend over and cut one’s toenails, were impossible tasks for them.
After taking a short cosmetology course, I began offering my services around the Silver Shores community for free. Travelling a few hours a day from condo to condo, I would schedule appointments to give some of the women pedicures and manicures. I would give them my time, and in return, they told me stories and dished out great advice. Some of the women became like mother figures to me. Estranged from my own mother, I appreciated that more than they knew.
The best days, of course, were those that brought Carter home to me. It wasn’t uncommon for me to greet him stark naked in our kitchen, holding a freshly made Caipirinha when he’d return from a long trip.
One particular day, though, he’d asked me to meet him at the airport instead. He instructed me to pack a suitcase along with my passport. We’d be meeting at the very lounge where we first met.
When I arrived, Carter was sitting at the same table where we’d sat that first day. He was also wearing the very same brown leather jacket with his wings pinned on it. It gave me a serious feeling of déjà vu. Laid out on the table were mozzarella cheese sticks, wings and egg rolls—the same appetizers he’d ordered back then.
He gestured for me to sit. “Do you know what today is, Perky?”
I wracked my brain. “I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
