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“Yeah, sorry, Lee,” I say to my family’s attorney. “This town has changed a lot.”
“You’re here already? Where are you?”
“My mom’s gallery.” I look up at the sign and see it’s covered. It no longer saysChristmas with Eloise Art Studio. I miss her standing here in what was her space.
“I’ll meet you there,” Lee says and hangs up.
I look back across the way to see the two punk teens, and as they go past me, a small woman with green eyes captures my attention. She turns to look at me before her hood obscures her face and she’s off. Her eyes were so bright it was like looking into the green lights of a Christmas tree, but without the joy. I watch her as she heads out. A part of me wants to follow her, but there is nothing in this town I want or need. I make my way back up onto the porch and wait for the attorney.
As I look out across the parking lot toward the trees, I remember running through those woods as a kid. Then when I was a teenager, I would ride my bike from the high school to my mom’s gallery to help her out. Earl, my father, was very rarely around growing up. He was out making money by buying more and more property and having it zoned for business. He owns this whole area I’m standing in. I wouldn’t be surprised if he owned that amusement park or sold his land to the owners to build on.
I try not to think of the last time I talked to him. It was right after I turned eighteen. My mother had died the month before my birthday; she would still be alive if Earl had been home when she fell. But he was out with whatever secretary or club housewife was the flavor of the month. I had told him I’d never forgive him, and he’d told me to get out. Not a problem. I’d walked to the nearest Air Force recruiting office and enlisted. I’m now a para-jumper living my life the way I want. I don’t depend on his money for anything. I haven’t been back to this town until now when Lee called me yesterday and woke me up. Earl died, and I needed to come back to take care of matters.
I’m shaken from my thoughts as Lee approaches. He’s worked for my family since he got out of law school, a job he fell into because of his father who worked for my family as well. Now Lee is completely in charge of all legal matters regarding the Bridger family. Even though I’ve been estranged from my father, I still talk to Lee regularly. He has less hair than the last time I saw him, with more gray to the brown, but he still has the same smile.
“Coal, how are you doing, kid?” He holds out his hand for me to shake. I take it and my large hand swallows his thinner one. “Well, guess not a kid anymore.” He chuckles.
“Hello, Lee.” I smile at him and nod toward the door of my mother’s gallery, praying he’ll unlock it. Shortly after her death, Earl locked it and wouldn’t let me in. With him gone now, I’m hoping I can get whatever I can before it’s given to whomever Earl made his heir.
“Let me get the right key.”
My foot shakes and I crack my knuckles as I impatiently wait while he goes through a huge key chain.
“Ah, got it, but there is no hurry to get in here.” He turns to look at me.
“Yes, there is. I want her stuff before the heir gets it.”
“Heir?” Lee’s brows shoot up. “Coal, you’re his heir. Didn’t you get his letter?”
“What letter?” My father never tried to reach out to me after I left.
“Coal, you get everything. All the money, land, and so much more.”
“Why?”
“Come in and let’s talk, then I’ll take you to the house.”
“I know where the house is.”
“He sold the old place and had a home built that overlooks the lake.”
“I don’t understand any of this.” I look around my mother’s gallery and notice that nothing has been touched in all these years. Just the sheets covering the paintings that she personally owned. I walk back to her office ignoring the pictures of her with students and artists on the wall, not ready to deal with those memories. When I enter her office, I find it’s the only thing that’s different. The desk is bare and the walls are clean of everything. It’s like she was erased from here.
“Where is her stuff? When was her desk cleaned off?” I growl as I turn to look at Lee. He’s only a couple inches shorter than me, but he steps back from the look in my eyes.
“After you left, your father came in and had everything boxed up. Last I heard, he had it put in storage for you.”
“He told me I couldn’t have anything. None of it. None of her stuff.”
“Coal, come out here.” Lee holds out his hand, directing me back to the main area.
“No, just tell me.”
“I can’t, son, you need to meet me at this address, then we can talk.”
I ignore his “son” comment; I haven’t been anyone’s son in a long time. I take the offered card from him. When I get back to the SUV, I enter the address in the GPS and realize it’s an address not far away on Candy Cane Lane. I head that way and wonder what the hell Earl had been thinking. My mother had always wanted a house on the lake, and I’m confused as I pull up in front of the large Victorian inspired home. The house sits atop a rolling grass hill with a large circular driveway and wrap around deck. The pillars of the deck are white, and the house is a beautiful deep green with white trim. There is a large circular room on the second floor with big windows facing the lake. I step on the porch and look across the street to the lake and all the other houses lining the other side of it. This is exactly what my mom would have wanted.
Why did Earl build this home?
