Page 95 of Finding Solace


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Rubbing my leg, he nods. “It’s how it should be.”

Sabrina, in all her snooty flair, stands abruptly and taps the papers on the desk. “I’ll need to get my manager to handle your paperwork, Jason.”

When she leaves the cubicle, I whisper, “What is she talking about?”

Matching my tone, he replies, “Wait for it.” By the look in his eyes, this ought to be good.

The bank manager, Worley Hiccolms, comes in and heartily shakes our hands. “Mr. Koster. Ms. Noelle. Good to see you today.” He glares at Sabrina. “If you’ll excuse us.”

“Sure,” she says, playing it off like she’s not nosy and desperately wanting in on whatever this is.

Worley smiles like a Cheshire cat and pushes a piece of paper across the desk toward us. “Ms. Noelle has been added. We can update after the nuptials if there is a legal name change. If you could both sign here, she’ll be granted full access to the safety-deposit box and the two bank accounts.”

I bump my knee against Jason’s. He says, “Life is unpredictable. I thought it was a good idea to get you added sooner rather than later.”

The bank manager says, “It’s good to take precautions. Now, if you’ll sign here and here, you can be on your way, and we’ll take care of the rest.” Jason has me sign first, and then he signs on the line beneath mine. Worley stands eagerly. “I want to personally thank you for trusting your financial interests with our fine establishment.”

They shake hands. “Thank you. Don’t get robbed.”

“Eh, we’re insured.”

We all laugh politely through a round of goodbyes until we reach the sidewalk. I ask, “What was that about?”

“I guess he’s just happy to be working with us.”

“Jason?” My hand goes to my hip. “Be open with me. How much money are we talking about? Worley doesn’t treat everybody like that, so I’m assuming a lot. Twenty? Fifty? A hundred thousand?”

We reach the truck. With the door open in his hand, he says, “We can go inside and get a statement if you’d like.”

“No.” I climb into the cab. “Just tell me.”

He shuts my door and drags this out. Adding to the drama while he walks around to the driver’s side, he smiles smugly when I watch him through the windshield. When he slips into the cab of the truck next to me, he starts the engine.

“Jason, tell me.”

“You sure you want to know? I know how you get weird about money.”

“I’m not weird about money,” I reply defensively, but then ease into the seat, resting my elbow on the door. “Well, maybe I am. I’ve never had enough to know if I get weird or not.”

His arm is on the back of the bench while he reverses. “Well, after paying off the farm and Mom’s house, there’s two point eight million in the accounts.”

“What?” I shout, whacking his arm. My throat dries, and I start coughing.

Patting me on the back, he looks over, but I see the wry grin on his face. “Are you okay, baby?”

I clear my throat. “Two point eight million dollars? U.S. money?”

“No, in Oreos. Yes, dollars.”

Leaning back, I can’t even fathom that amount of money. “From jobs?”

“Yes. I was paid well.”

“That much is more than well, Jason.”

He shrugs as he pulls out and starts driving. “I was very good at what I did.”

“I would say so.”

“This is a lot to take in. I get it. Every penny I earned was for this life, for us. I know that sounds unbelievable. You were married. I shouldn’t have thought of you as more than someone else’s wife. I think deep down my heart knew where it belonged. I knew. This is where I belong. Right here with you. Call it kismet or luck, great timing, or great fortune. Doesn’t matter as long as I have you.”

Our hands reach out and find each other in the middle.

This is love.

Pure.

Soul-enriching, life-affirming, deep-seated, raw, messy, and real love.

Getting a second chance to be with this generous and kind soul is more than kismet or great timing.

It’s destiny.

I walk into the barn and climb the ladder to the loft. We can’t live up here forever, and definitely not through the winter, but it’s been fun. It’s been the escape from the house we needed after that night we were attacked.

When I reach the top, I spot a large gift box on the middle of the mattress. Sitting down next to it, I take it, smiling before I even lift the lid. I don’t understand the present inside, but maybe the note can explain. I pull the card from the envelope and read:

Dear Delilah,

For old times’ sake, please wear this uniform and meet me at the stadium one more time. I’ll be waiting for you at 8 p.m.

Love you,

Jason

Holding the note to my chest, I blink back tears. But it’s hard when every day I’m given with the love of my life is a blessing.

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