Chapter Three
Veronica
The preacher rambles on and on about how wonderful Timothy and my mother were, even though what he really means is their money was wonderful. He didn’t really know them. Neither of them went to church; at least, not more than a time or two a year. Still, my stepfather sent a check in every week to the biggest Methodist church in Houston. He gave them enough money that his name was listed as a benefactor, even though he didn’t attend. The preacher won’t miss either Mom or Timothy, but he is definitely going to miss their weekly donations.
When he finally winds down, he waves his hands toward the crowd of mourners and quietly says, “Let’s bow our heads and pray.”
I lower my head as he says, but I can’t focus on the prayer. Instead, my mind is whirling with a million questions. How did this happen? Why did it happen? Most of all, I’m wondering why I don’t hurt more. I’ve tried to feel anguish at the loss of my mother, but it’s just not there. I didn’t know her enough to be feeling any real sense of loss. What I did know, I didn’t really like.
My mind finally focuses when I hear the words of the Lord’s Prayer. “… forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory. For ever and ever.”
“Amen,” I whisper as he finishes.
Dad tightens his arms around me as the coffins are lowered down. I lean into him, soaking up his warmth, feeling grateful that he’s here with me. My eyes stay trained on my mother’s casket until it is no longer visible. When it’s gone, I feel nothing—no loss, no pain, just a sense of hollowness that I can’t quite explain.
“You doing okay, baby girl?” Dad whispers, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “It’s okay to cry if you want to.”
Before I can even respond, Miles is at my side talking. “You need to get back to the house. Dad’s lawyer is already there. We’re gonna have the reading of the will before everyone shows up for the reception.”
I blink in surprise, not quite believing he would bring up such a thing right here at his father’s graveside. People are all around us; anyone could hear. Even me, who my mother always claimed as uncouth as a person can be, knows this is not the place to be talking about things like that. I don’t know why I’m surprised, though. I haven’t believed half of the things Miles has done over the last few days.
“You need to back the fuck off,” Dad growls, holding me close to his side. “She doesn’t need to deal with that shit right now.”
Miles starts to say something, but I cut him off, knowing whatever he says will probably cause Dad to lose his shit. “I’m heading that way now.”
Dad grumbles under his breath but doesn’t say anything. He simply pulls me across the graveyard, weaving around all the people standing around. We walk straight past the limo that Miles insisted I ride in and head for Dad’s rental car. Once there, he opens the door and helps me inside. My eyes never leave his as he walks around the front of the car and climbs in on the driver’s side.
As soon as the door is shut, he looks over to me. “That stepbrother of yours is a real piece of work. If you weren’t going through so damn much, I would have knocked the fuck out of him and enjoyed the hell out of doing it.”
My lips tip up as I try to make light of the situation. “It wouldn’t bother me. You’re more than welcome to beat on him all you want, but if you decide to lay him out, let me know in advance. I need time to pull out my phone. I’ll have to catch that shit on video, play it back when I have a bad day.”
He chuckles and says, “I’ll do my best to give you warning.”
We stay quiet as we drive across town, both lost in our own thoughts. I study my dad’s profile, trying to see if he is hurting at the loss of my mother. I know the two of them never got along, not for as long as I can remember anyway, but at one time he must have felt something for her. Studying him now, I see no loss on his face. I see worry and sadness, but both of those are for me.
Turning away, I stare out the window and watch the city pass by. Again, I try to find a little sadness within my soul. When I still can’t find any, I start to worry. What does that say about me? What kind of person am I that I don’t even mourn the death of my own mother. By the time we pull up in front of the monstrosity my mother called home, I feel like the world is sitting on my shoulders.
When Dad cuts off the car, he reaches over and grabs my hand. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ll be right by your side the entire time.”
I smile at him and give him a nod. “I know.”
He gets out and walks around the car, opening my door and helping me out. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and keeps them there the entire way. By the time we get inside, Miles is pacing back and forth in the foyer.
“Took you long enough. I’ve been here for nearly five minutes,” he states, his arms crossed over his scrawny chest.
I ignore him and start making demands of my own. “My dad’s going back there with me, or I’m not going in there at all.”
“I don’t care who you bring, just hurry up,” he whines, turning away and heading down the hall to Timothy’s office.
Dad grumbles again but stays quiet as he leads me down the hallway. When we finally step into the office, I see a man wearing glasses sitting at Timothy’s desk. He is looking over some papers spread across the desk.
“Veronica’s finally here, so can we get started now?” Miles asks, taking a seat across from the desk.
The man, I assume my father’s lawyer, looks at my stepbrother. “I really don’t feel comfortable with this. There are other people included in the will that should be here. At the very least, they should be made aware that they are in the will first.”
They argue back and forth while Dad leads me to the sofa at the far end of the room. We sit down, me leaning into his side, and I try to keep myself focused on the heated conversation they are having. Instead, I get lost looking at the flames in the fireplace. It runs off natural gas, just like every other fireplace in the house. Looking at it now, it looks beautiful. I can’t believe something that can create such beauty can lead to such tragedy.
“As long as you know we will have to do this again when everyone is available,” the lawyer says before looking at me. “Timothy updated his will six years ago. At that time, he also made a videotape that he wanted to be played for just you and Miles. I am going to play that first.”
“All right.” I nod, not sure of what else to say.
A minute or two later, my stepfather’s cultured voice fills the room. My heart skips a beat, realizing this will probably be the last time I ever hear his voice. I stare at the television, hanging above the fireplace, and watch as Timothy talks. He starts with Miles, of course, listing all of the businesses and properties first. Then, he goes on to bequeath him more money than I will make in a lifetime.
“Son, I’m leaving you my life’s work. I hope you don’t disappoint me,” Timothy says, not even bothering to tell his only child he loved him.
“What about the rest of the money?” Miles shouts, jumping up from his chair with so much force that it tips over and bangs against the mahogany covered floor.
The television pauses just before they start to argue again. I raise my head enough to look up at Dad. I shake my head, letting him know that shit is fucked up. Miles just inherited millions of dollars, an oil business that brings in millions more every year, and homes all over the world. Why he’s complaining, I just don’t know.
Dad leans down and whispers, “Told you, the bastard’s a real piece of work.”
When Miles finally settles down, the lawyer starts the video again. My stepfather starts talking to me this time, his eyes full of disapproval. He rambles off an insane amount of money, more than I ever thought he would consider leaving to me. I immediately know I don’t want a penny of it. As soon as I get home, I’ll start looking for a charity, maybe multiple charities, to give it to.
“If your mother and I should happen to die before you turn twenty-five, your inheritance will be held in a trust until your birthday. Hopefully, you will have matured enough by then to handle the responsibility. The only way that will happen is if you finally leave your humble beginnings behind you. Your mother has grown into a worthy woman. If you would cut contact with your disgraceful father, I believe you will be able to do the same thing.”
I can feel my father’s body tense and decide I have had enough. I pull away from him, just enough to stand up, then reach my hand down for him to grab. He places his hand in mine then stands beside me. Removing his hand from mine, he lays his arm around my shoulders once again. He gives me a squeeze then kisses the top of my head.
I smile up at him then look toward the lawyer. “I’m leaving. I don’t want any of the money. I’ll send you the charities I want it donated to in the next few weeks.”
With those words, we walk out of the room. Dad leads me through the house, ignoring the people that have already started filling the rooms. We head straight to the car. When we get there, I look up at the house, knowing it’s the last time I will ever see it.
“I’m never going to come back here again,” I say, feeling no remorse at all. “And I can honestly say I won’t miss it at all.”
“Can’t say I blame you, baby girl,” Dad replies, opening the door and helping me into my seat.
As he shuts the door, I close my eyes then pull in a deep breath and slowly let it out. Timothy’s words play over and over again in my head. Each time, they hurt a little worse. He’s nothing to me, never really was. Same goes for my mother. I have all the family I need. I have my dad and my friends. I don’t need anything else.
By the time he gets around to the driver’s side, all the tension I have been carrying around has left my body. I’m free—free from the shit my mother and stepfather brought to my life. Never again will I let anyone make me feel bad about being me.
As soon as Dad shuts the door, I look over at him. “I love you, Daddy. You’re the best father in the world, always have been.”
“I love you, too, baby girl.” He leans over, placing a kiss on my cheek. “And you’re the best daughter any man could ever ask for.”