Chapter 4
Marley
After spending another day trying to reach Mr. Abrams’ son without any success, I decided to attempt a house call. Only this time, I would try going early before he had a chance to go to work or wherever he ran off to during the day. It was still dark outside, and I was still half asleep when I went downstairs to grab a cup of coffee. I dragged myself into the kitchen and found Brandon sitting at the table, dressed and reading.
I silently mumbled curses under my breath as I glared at him looking so chipper. The remnants of his stomach bug were all gone; his color was back and he was looking like his old self. He smiled and said, “Where are you headed so early?”
I rolled my eyes and growled, “Work.”
My sweet, loving, and incredibly annoying brother had always been an early bird, always happy and ready to start his day as soon as he got up. It drove me up the wall. It took me hours to really wake up and get in the groove, and seeing that smile on his face first thing in the morning made me want to just crawl back in bed. If I could have just one more hour of sleep, I might have been able to pull it together. Unfortunately, I never got that extra hour.
He laid the paper down on the table and looked over at the clock. “It’s not even six yet.”
“I am very aware of that, wise one, but I’ve gotta get some papers signed.”
“Where? It’s the crack of dawn.”
“I’m going out to his house so I can catch him before he goes to work.”
“You’re going alone?”
“Yes, Brandon. I’m going alone,” I huffed. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I can handle making a house call without a guardian present. Besides, I just need a couple of signatures, and then I’ll be out of there. Not a big deal.”
“I don’t like it. There are some crazy folks out there,” he mumbled. “It’s not safe.”
“Has Dad already left for work?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Haven’t seen him.”
He lifted the paper and started reading again, giving me the chance to grab my coffee and go upstairs to get dressed. By the time I came back down, he was gone. There was still no sign of Dad, so I gathered my stuff and headed to my car. I plugged the address in my GPS, hoping that it would actually work, and started towards Mr. Abrams’ house. It was a nice drive with lots of twists and turns down the long, country roads. There were only a few houses scattered along the way, making the countryside seem even more desolate.
As I turned into the driveway, I was pleased to see that the house looked very inviting. It was a traditional two-story house with a large wraparound porch with a swing, and the landscaping looked professionally done. The yard was free of trash and debris, making me feel less threatened by whoever lived behind that front door. After I parked the car, I grabbed my briefcase and made my way up the porch steps. I stood there quietly for a moment, trying to settle my doubts about showing up so early in the morning. I finally worked up the courage to knock on the door. Seconds later, I heard someone stumbling around in one of the front rooms.
My heart started to race when I heard a man’s voice grumble, “Give me a minute.”
I could hear his feet thud across the floor, and as they got closer to the door, I involuntarily held my breath. The door flew open, and my mouth dropped as I found Smokey standing on the other side wearing only his boxers. Yep, just his boxers. They were sitting low on his hips, making it impossible not to stare at all his bulging muscles and that perfect V.
I have no idea how long I stood there gawking at him. I was frozen with disbelief as my eyes roamed over his bare body, taking my time to study all the intricate details of the tattoos that covered his chest and shoulders. My eyes finally made it up to his handsome face where I saw his sexy little grin and his hair sitting wild on his head. His blue eyes danced with mischief.
“Oh… umm… Hi, again… Sorry to wake you.”
“Something I can help you with, Marley Jo?” he snickered. I had no idea how he knew who I was. I knew I hadn’t mentioned it before, but my dismay was quickly overshadowed by my shock.
“You’re Evan Abrams?” I asked, my voice coming out several octaves higher than normal.
“Yeah, I guess I am. Been awhile since anyone called me by that name. I go by Smokey now,” he replied. His eyes dropped down to my briefcase and with a curious look, he asked, “Is there something wrong with your car?”
“No… my car is fine, Mr. Abrams.” I stood there, trying to find the right words to say to him, but it wasn’t helping that he was standing there looking like sex on a platter. I took a deep breath and looked him directly in the eye, trying to remind myself why I was there. “I need to discuss something important with you. Would you mind putting on a shirt first?”
His eyes dropped as he looked down at his chest and smiled when he realized what he was wearing. He took a step back and motioned for me to come in. “Yeah, I can do that. But call me Smokey. Mr. Abrams is my dad.” As he began walking towards the bedroom, he called over his shoulder, “Wanna wait for me in the kitchen while I get dressed?”
“Sure. That would be great,” I answered as I stepped through the door. His home was even more beautiful on the inside. It reminded me of all those shows I’d seen on the home decorating channel. Even with the masculine feel of the gray and white color scheme, it still had the look of a woman’s touch, making me wonder if he was involved with someone. From the paperwork I’d gone over, I knew he wasn’t married. I also knew that he was an honor student in high school, and even though he had received several great scholarships, he had never attended college or the military. He basically dropped off the planet at the age of nineteen, and considering the looks of his home and yard, I wondered what he did for a living.
I stepped into the kitchen and as soon as I saw his expensive coffee pot, I started craving another cup. I ignored my hankering for caffeine and sat down at the counter, strumming through my briefcase for all the papers that I needed for him to sign. I carefully pulled them out and had just gotten settled when Smokey walked in. He’d changed into a loose-fitting pair of worn-out blue jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt, and he’d even managed to tame his wild hair. Unfortunately for me, he looked just as good with his clothes on. I tried not to stare as he took the coffee pot and started filling it with water.
Finally, he asked, “Want a cup?”
“Yes, that would be great,” I answered. And with that, I tried my best to shift gears. I hated that I was the one that had to break the news to him about his father, but it had to be done. “I’m sorry about the time. I know it’s really early, but I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks. I figured this would be the only way I’d actually be able to catch you.”
“I’m sorry about that. It’s been a crazy few weeks. We’ve been working day and night.” The smell of fresh-brewed coffee started to drift through the air as soon as he turned on the machine, and once he was done, he walked over and sat down next to me. He finally looked down at the papers on the counter and asked, “What is all of this?”
“It’s your father’s will.”
Seeing the look of anguish and confusion on his face made my heart ache for him. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, but I knew it wasn’t.
I looked up at him. “I’ve been trying to contact you in regards to your father. I need to tell you that he passed away a few weeks ago.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he asked, “My father is dead? How? When?”
“It happened two weeks ago. He was checking the progress of the apples in the orchard, and while he was up on the ladder, he had a heart attack.”
“And no one thought to tell me about this?”
“Actually, your family has been trying to reach you for some time. Your sister just had her second child; otherwise she would’ve already been here to tell you herself. She’s been trying to call you day and night, but couldn’t get you to answer your phone.”
“Fuck!” he groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe he’s really gone.”
We sat silently for several minutes as he stared out the kitchen window. The air felt heavy, reminding me much too vividly of the day my own mother died. Unlike Smokey, I’d known that she was dying. I watched as she bravely fought her cancer for almost a year, while her body weakened and deteriorated with each passing day. I saw the fight leave her soul as she accepted her fate, and yet, I was still surprised when I received the news that she’d passed away. I answered the phone knowing there was only one reason my father would call so late. My breath caught in my throat as he spoke the words. All the hope and every unanswered prayer came crashing down around me, and all I wanted to do was crawl inside a dark hole and hide from the world. I knew Smokey must’ve been feeling the same way, and my heart ached for him.
I placed my hand on his and said, “I’m really sorry.” When he didn’t speak, I whispered, “I know this is difficult for you, but…”
His shoulders stiffened as he barked, “You don’t know shit!”
He had every reason to be upset, so I tried to ignore the threatening tone in his voice. “I get it. I know it must be hard to hear that you have lost your father… especially hearing it from me, so I’m just going to give you some time. I’ll come back later to go over all this paperwork with you.”
“What kind of paperwork?”
“Your father’s will.
“His will? What about it?”
“You’re in it. You and your sister inherited the house, the land, and all of your father’s savings.”
As soon as the words came out of my mouth, he jolted up out of his seat and shouted, “I don't want it! Any of it,” and started walking towards the front door. He opened it, letting me know it was time for me to go, and said, “I’ve got shit to do.”
I imagined that he would take the news hard, but I hadn’t expected him to be so angry. I quickly tried to gather up all the papers and put them back in my briefcase. Once I was done, I stood up and started walking towards him, at the same time trying to convey the importance of his father's will. “It's not that easy, but we really need to talk about all of this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. He made his choice fifteen years ago. I didn’t want his money then, and I sure as hell don’t want it now.”
“But… it’s not just the money. You’re talking about your legacy. This property has been in your family for generations. Are you really willing to give that all up?”
“Absolutely,” he clipped. “That farm was my father’s legacy, not mine. He made sure of that a long time ago. We haven’t even spoken since the day I left, and I can’t imagine why he’d changed his mind after all this time. Just draw up the papers and give everything he left to me to my sister. I’ll sign them as soon as they are done.”
“But why? Why would you just toss that all away?”
His eyes grew fierce, and I immediately regretted questioning him. I hurried for the door but stopped just before I stepped outside. I reached into my bag and pulled out two white envelopes containing letters his father had written him. They’d been placed in Mr. Abrams’ file with the hope that they would be delivered at the time of his death. Not wanting him to regret his choice one day, I gave Smokey a pleading look and offered him the letters. “Before you make any final decisions, I think you should consider reading these.”
He studied them for a moment, and I could see a flitter of remembrance when he saw the postmark on the first letter. It had been sent to him seven years ago, but Smokey returned it to his father unopened. There was also a second letter in Mr. Abrams’ file, one that was to be delivered at the time of his death. I had no idea what was written inside either letter, but I prayed that it might change his mind about giving up everything his father wanted him to have.
I continued to hold out the long, white envelopes, and when he only remained there staring at them, I said, “I don’t know what happened between you and your father, but from the look on your face, I’d guess it was pretty bad. But whatever it was, you’ve got to remember that he was your father. It wouldn’t hurt to see what he had to say.”
“That’s just the thing. If he had something to say, he could have come to me and said it. He didn’t have to be a damned coward and write it in some stupid letter.”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure he had his reasons. Maybe it’s like my mom used to say, ‘You can’t judge a man until you’ve walked in his shoes,’” I recited. “But you’ll never know what they were unless you read the letters, Smokey.”
He reached out and gently took the letters from my hand. He looked at the handwritten address on the envelope. He studied the curves and loops of writing with a penetrating stare, like he almost expected them to reveal what was written inside. There was such pain hidden behind those dark blue eyes, and as much as I wanted to go over to him and wrap my arms around him, I knew I couldn’t.
Instead, I stepped out of the house and onto the porch and said, “I left my card on your kitchen table, so if you need anything, just give me a call. Even if you just want to talk about it.”
I turned to leave, and just as I opened my car door, he said, “It was good to see you again… even if it was under these circumstances.”
“You too,” I replied, then got in my car.
I pulled out of the driveway and the entire way to work, my mind was bombarded with thoughts of Smokey. The look of anguish on his face when he spoke about his father haunted me, making me wonder what had happened between them. Whatever it was, there was no doubt he was still hurt by it. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of that pain had shaped the man he was today.