May drove to her father’s home. For a man of his net worth, he lived in a rather uninspiring four-thousand square foot ranch set on thirty acres of beautiful, natural rolling hills and wooded land.  It was the same house she’d spent the first eleven years of her life living in, though her father had built onto it and upgraded it many times over the years.

When May arrived in Oceanside the evening before, she couldn’t bring herself to stay at her father’s house. She opted for the humble dwellings of the Red Roof Inn. She still wondered if she’d regret staying there at all. There were too many memories in this house, most of them painful.

Her father’s housekeeper, Consuelo, greeted her at the door. Consuelo was a short, stout Puerto Rican woman of about fifty. She’d worked for May’s father for fifteen years.  It was perhaps only the second time in her life she’d ever met the woman, a further testament to just how little she’d seen her own father in the last decade and a half.

Consuelo hugged May and cried. She said something in a strained voice that, coupled with her broken English, made it unintelligible.  May patted her on the back and said, “I know, I know,” figuring it to be an appropriate response to whatever she’d said.

“Miss May, you are so thin,” she said.

It was a nice thing to say, May thought, though it was not true. May had gained ten pounds in the last year and as she got older, it was tougher and tougher to keep her weight down.  At forty-three she was still being told by friends and coworkers she was a beautiful woman, though she didn’t have the petite Hollywood body that women seemed so pressured into maintaining.  She was full-figured with ample, natural breasts. Her thighs and behind were larger than she’d like, but she still received quite a few looks from men… and women, when she got dolled up and went out.  It was her face and hair that most men liked the most.  She worked hard to keep her medium length, wavy dark red hair stylish and full. She colored her hair to cover the pesky gray, but never waned from that rich auburn look she had all her life. Her eyes were ice blue; her complexion creamy and her lips were full.  Most men considered her to be a very attractive woman.

“I’ve made up your room,” Consuelo said. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get unpacked. I’ll make you something to eat.”

“That would be very nice, thank you,” May replied. “I’d like to lie down for a while. Can I come down about one o’clock? Will you wake me if I sleep beyond that?”

“I will wake you at one if you are not down before, and may I say, it’s so wonderful to have you home.”

Home, May thought, what an odd thing to think about. It didn’t feel like home.

Her father painted May’s room and redecorated it several times over since she and her mom left town for good, over thirty years ago. Only the bay window remained as a reminder she once slept there every night. She unpacked her things, changed into her sweats and lay down on the bed. She was asleep in minutes. The next thing she recalled was Consuelo’s voice, announcing it was now one o’clock.

May sat up feeling somewhat rested, more refreshed than she imagined. She ambled down the stairs and into the kitchen where Consuelo had chicken tortilla soup and a sandwich waiting on her at the table.

“You remembered,” she said.

Consuelo beamed, “I remember, Miss May. Chicken Tortilla soup was always your favorite.”

“It still is,” she said. She sat and slurped a spoonful. It was delicious.

“Consuelo, can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“How was my father, over the last few months?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did he act more differently than normal lately?”

“Yes, Mr. Mike… he was anxious… stressed… not himself. I don’t think I saw him smile in weeks.”

“Did he ever say why?”

“No. I asked him. He said he had things on his mind and for me not to worry.”

May nodded, thinking how familiar that all sounded to her. Mike Major always kept things that worried him close to the vest. Even as a child he never told her bad news. He always said everything was fine, even when she knew it wasn’t.

“Consuelo, I want you to know, I won’t forget you. Now that dad is no longer with us, I know thinking about the future must stress you…”

“Oh no, Miss May, Mr. Mike has provided for my future,” she interrupted.

“He has?”

“Yes, he set up a trust as a pension, for my retirement,” she continued. “He told me if something happened to him the trust would open early. I have the papers.”

May smiled and shook her head thinking about it.  First, Mrs. Sweeney and now Consuelo. Her father had made sure the people important to him were well cared for. He had changed over the years from the hard-nosed, no-nonsense businessman she remembered.

May finished her lunch and walked outside.  It was a beautiful day in Oceanside. She spent more than an hour exploring the property, reliving some of her memories and clearing her head. When she got back inside, she showered, styled her hair, applied her makeup and got dressed in a mauve-colored business suit.  She looked in the mirror, thinking she looked professional.

May drove into town to the corporate offices of Major Timber and parked in her father’s parking spot. She strolled into the lobby, unable to remember the last time she was in the offices, and like everything else her father owned, it had been through several upgrades.

May approached the receptionist and asked for Preston Marbury.

“He’s in a meeting,” the young woman replied.

“That’s why I’m here—the investor’s meeting at four o’clock,” May said.

“That’s the meeting he’s in now,” came the reply.

“What time did it start?” she asked.

“Mr. Marbury and Mr. Cavanaugh started at two o’clock. The rest showed up at three o’clock,” the receptionist said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She looked at her watch. It was three-forty-one. They started without her. She wondered why that might be. Thinking of the possibilities began to irritate her.

“Where is the conference room?” she asked. Her voice was commanding.

“It’s on the top floor, Ms. Major. Maybe you should wait in the lobby until they call you.”

“Not likely,” she said. The feeling of intimidation and being overwhelmed were beginning to take a back seat to a fire forming in her belly. It was time she got some answers to some of her questions.

“Wait a second, I’ll get you a guest pass,” the receptionist offered.

“I beg your pardon,” May snapped back. “My father owns this building and the business that runs out of it. I am his legal representative.”

The receptionist swallowed hard intimidated by May’s outburst.

“I understand. I’ll call upstairs and Mr. Marbury them know you’re coming,” she offered.

May looked at the receptionist’s name badge.

“Paula, how long have you worked here?”

“Three years now.”

“Do you like working here?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m going upstairs to the meeting. If you’d like to keep your job, I’d suggest you call no one for the next ten minutes. Am I understood?”

“Clearly, ma’am.”  Paula reached into her top right drawer and pulled a key from it. She handed it to May.

“What’s this?” May asked.

“It’s an elevator key,” she replied. “You’ll need it to access the top two floors. That’s where the conference rooms and executive offices are.”

May smiled, “Thanks, Paula… and relax.”