Safe & Sound (20 page)

“No. You don’t understand.”

“Then start making some sense.”

“Jay’s mom left him a sizeable amount of money when she passed away. He invested that money into different stocks, companies and real estate.” I had known Jay was always tinkering with his portfolio, brooding over every move and investment. It normally didn’t interest me, so I would let him ramble on and on about his investments, most of which I usually tuned out.

“Right. I knew that.”

“Did you know that he was worth millions?”

I could feel the room start to spin.

“Are you sure?” I finally replied.

“I doubled-checked the paperwork and then made a couple of phone calls. I’m sure.”

“Was I that clueless? I didn’t know about any of this,” I whispered back into the phone.

“Don’t be melodramatic. He was setting things up to ensure you both had a comfy lifestyle.” She paused. “Jill, your name is on all these documents. He made sure you would receive full ownership of everything if something happened to him.”

We had lived such a modest life up to that point. Some months we were working pay check to pay check and we struggled as everyone else did, paying off our student loans and credit cards … or so, at least, I had assumed.

“Jill … are you there?” Stella asked.

“Um …” I mumbled back.

“Earth to Jill …”

“I just … I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, there’s is more.”

“More?”

How could there be anymore?

“Seems like Paul was holding out on us when we met with him.”

“Is that legal?” I asked.

“He didn’t lie. He was just creative in some of his wording. I should have seen it then,” Stella said. She hated being taken by surprise, but she loathed having someone pull one over on her.

“Anyway, he released most of his notes about conversations he and Jay had.”

I braced myself again as she paused. Learning my husband was not the man I thought he had been was becoming very taxing.

“Jill, he loved you. I mean, he really loved you.”

It was not what I thought she was going to say. Now for the second time in a matter of minutes I was confused.

“I really don’t understand,” I confessed.

“Jill, Jay set up the accounts and the money to create a lifestyle where you would be able to quit your job teaching and follow your passion. He knew that the two of you had a plan and a future but he wanted to … amend that plan … if you will.”

“What is my passion?” I was trying to rack my brain about any conversations that I might have had that would have indicated I wasn’t happy or that I wanted to do something else.

“I was happy, Stella. Everything was perfect.”

“Jay knew you better than you knew yourself. It’s so romantic,” she squealed. Only Stella would think large sums of money were romantic. “You are always the last one to figure it out. You’re so oblivious.” She paused, turning serious. “He had this money and he never told you so you didn’t have to worry. He wanted to give you the world and he wanted you to follow your dreams … He wanted you to write.”

“Write? I’m not a writer. I’m a kindergarten teacher … Well, I was a kindergarten teacher.”

“Jill, you didn’t have to be married to you to figure it out. Lanie and I have watched you scribble away in those journals of yours since we were kids. You were always happiest sitting by yourself, lost in some train of thought, writing.”

It was true. I used to tell my mom I was going to be a writer. That dream died when my mom did.

“Anyway, it looks like Jay had read through some of your stuff and thought you had it.”

“He did what? If he wasn’t dead, I would kill him,” I said. That was the only condition Jay and I had ever had. He had promised never to read or flip through any of my journals. I considered them my most private thoughts and I didn’t want anyone to invade them.

“There’s that feistiness I have missed,” Stella exclaimed.

“I feel so betrayed.”

“Stop it. He was creating this life for you. You were going to live on the beach and write books while he mergered and acquisitioned all day.”

“That’s not a real thing ‘mergered and acquisitioned,’” I commented dryly.

“Bottom line is you were never going to have to worry about anything. He was going to take care of you.”

“I never asked for all that.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s all yours and it’s all here in black in white and legally binding. Paul wanted to wait a while before he laid it all on you. He thought the shock of Jay’s death and finding out about the beach house was probably all you could take last time.”

“He’s probably right. I don’t know if I can still really comprehend this all.”

“Well, I can and you’re going to be fine. You will be treating me to the best lobster dinner Oak Island has to offer after this. Anyway, I have started to take care of the initial paperwork for you. I have asked Roger if we can take you on as a client, as well. You know, so we can make sure everything is managed properly. I didn’t think you wanted to deal with all the paperwork and to continue to manage the portfolio.” She rambled on and on about details and initial meetings. “Since your information was already provided on the documentation, I took the liberty of transferring a small amount of money into your account so you can get by and we will straighten out the rest when you come and meet with the financial guys and me in a couple weeks.”

“When exactly?” I asked, as this trip was news to me.

“No rush. I figured you can come up here for a couple days. We can straighten this out and then we can head back to the beach together and meet up with Lanie for our Labor Day trip.”

“Yea. That sounds great.”

“You gonna be okay? You sound down and this is really great news.”

“Just a lot to take in, you know,” I replied.

“I have no idea, but I’m excited for you.”

“Thanks, Stella.” We talked pleasantries for a couple more minutes, catching up on her nonrelationship with Roger, before finally ending the call.

The idea of being financially stable was comforting, but the feeling that Jay was hiding all these secrets from me was disconcerting. Did I really know the man I had married? If he was capable of hiding these things from me, was there anything else? On the other hand, he seemed to have devoted so much time and energy ensuring that we—I—was going to be happy. I wished I could have told him I was happy with our life. I was happy with the way things were.

A knock on the door brought me out of my reverie.

“Ross,” I said, opening the door.

“Jill, sorry to bother you at the end of the day like this, but my uncle—I mean Jeff—wants to know if you have a paint swatch for him. He has to get that order in so everything can stay on schedule.”

He shrugged his shoulders. He was dressed casually, wearing ripped Cargo shorts with a vintage concert tee and the same Converse sneakers from the other night.

“Of course. Come in.”

I stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. “I have the swatches on the counter; I was just getting around to looking at them, to be honest.”

“Need any help?” he asked.

“Actually, I would love some.”

We made our way to the kitchen and stared at the couple of swatches I had pulled out before Stella called.

“That’s quite an array of colors,” he said, running his hand through his shaggy hair. In truth, there was no rhyme or reason behind the color selection. I had pulled colors in shades of blue, green, orange, white, pink and gray.

“Any advice?” I asked.

“Are you trying to blend in or stand out?”

“Neither.”

“Well then, what color speaks to you.”

“Speaks to me?”

“You know. What color makes you feel … something,” he said turning toward me and looking directly at me. It felt as if his eyes could see right through me and he would surely uncover everything about me at any minute.

“I can tell you what doesn’t speak to me.” I reached across and pulled the pink and gray paint chips to the side.

“Okay. That’s a good start …” He paused and thought a moment before continuing. “Are you going to name the house?”

So many beach houses were identified in the area simply by a name or phrase the owners had given them, such as His & Hers, Southern Comfort, Weekend Getaway, Beach Breezes. I had toyed with several names over the last couple years, thinking about the day when we could finally own our own beach house and be able to name it.

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I lied.

“Really?” he looked at me with a quizzical look, not quite believing me. I aimlessly walked to the set of windows that overlooked the ocean. It was another perfect evening. The sky was turning all types of orange and pink as the sun started to set. The ocean was still like glass and the breeze was blowing the tall grass ever so slightly. I felt so relaxed, so still at that very moment.

“Eirene” slipped out before I knew I was even thinking about it. “It’s named after the Greek Goddess of …” I stammered, turning to face Ross.

“Peace.”

“Yea. Not many people know that,” I said with a slight smile.

“Shocked I knew that?”

“Yes, actually.”

I was floored. Not many took the time to learn Greek Mythology anymore. I found a passion for it while in college and took every elective course I could on the subject.

“I could tell. You don’t have a very good poker face.” He chuckled.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So back to colors.” He gestured to the table.

“What color makes me think about peace?” I asked.

“Yea, something like that.” He shifted his position and glanced and his watch. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was well after eight in the evening.

“Oh, I’m keeping you from something, aren’t I? I’m sorry,” I babbled on.

He was a young, handsome guy, who probably had much better things to do than discuss paint colors with some half-crazed older woman.

“No. You’re fine,” he said as he reached across the table and spread out three paint colors. “Seems to me like you could do with a few less options.” He pointed to the colors he had selected. I doubted he knew how right he was.

“I like the slate-blue color,” I finally said after staring at the colors for several minutes.

“Me too.” He smiled and reached across the table for the paint chip just as I did. As our hands touched, I could feel an almost palpable energy between us. I quickly withdrew my hand and looked up to see if he too had felt it. As always, he looked calm, cool and collected.

I thought I might be losing my mind.

As he collected the rest of the paint swatches, we made some small talk and I walked him to the door.

“Thanks for coming by and getting that done. I would hate to mess up your uncle’s schedule,” I said, leaning against the doorjamb as he stood on the porch.

“He will be fine. He just panics for no reason.”

“Goodnight, Ross.”

“Have a goodnight, Jill. I hope you get some rest.”

I must have given him a look that warranted further explanation. “Well, it’s just that my friends and I often hang out on the beach at night and I have noticed the lights on at all hours of the night. Seems like you’re burning the midnight oil a lot.”

“Yup. Just burning the midnight oil.” I didn’t want to reveal that I was paranoid and scared of the dark.

“Night,” he said, waving to me as he made his way down the steps to the navy Ford F150 with “Powers Construction” painted on the side parked in the driveway.

CHAPTER 25

N
ightmares continued to plague my sleep. I always awoke in a panic, feeling terrified but never remembering anything that actually occurred in the nightmare. On this particular morning, I gave up on sleep just after three in the morning and sat out on the porch, watching the sun rise just a little before six. I knew what day it was without even looking at the calendar: June 28. This would have been Jay’s and my third wedding anniversary as well as Jay’s thirty-second birthday. When we had picked our wedding date, I asked Jay repeatedly if he minded that our wedding day fell on his birthday. In truth, it was the only day the venue had open for the next year.

“Have you as my birthday present every year? I couldn’t imagine a better way to celebrate,” he replied simply and with that, ended any discussion on the subject.

But now I felt as if any life I had breathed into my sails had been deflated. I had been dreading this day for weeks, unsure of how I felt about it and most importantly how to deal with it. There were several times when I reached for the phone to call Lanie or Stella, but each time, I couldn’t follow through. How did I explain the void that Jay’s love had left in my life? I would have done anything to get just five more minutes with Jay, to be able to look into his eyes and hold his face in my hands. The pain still hurt and often left me breathless. Could I make them understand how he once floated through my dreams and now I felt as if he haunted them, slowly driving me crazy. I would have sat out on the porch all day in my almost-vegetative state had it not been for the large rain drops that had started to fall. I dashed inside and heard my phone chime, indicating I had a voice message. Ignoring the phone, I headed back upstairs and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over my head. I was soon lulled to sleep by the sound of rain on the roof above me.

Several hours later, a loud knocking noise woke me from my dreamless sleep. Disorientated, I was unsure of where the sound was coming from. Slowly it dawned on me the construction workers were continuing work on the house. The morning storm had blown through but gray clouds continued to linger in the sky. Sighing, I rose from bed and decided to take a late afternoon run. Checking my phone, I saw that I had several missed messages. The morning message had been from Lanie, who had called two additional times. Stella had texted several messages, and Harry also called to leave a message.

“All the normal players,” I thought.

I ignored them all. Instead, I set off down the beach on a very slow, methodical run, and with each step, I could feel the tension and sadness trying to leave my thoughts, clearing my mind completely, or so I thought. It was toward the end of the run that my mind started to wander, drifting to thoughts of Jay and the accident. I tried to run harder as the images flooded my thoughts. Tears escaped and blurred my vision. My breathing was soon irregular as I struggled to keep up my frantic pace. It wasn’t long before my knees gave out, and I suddenly collapsed on the beach. Running had always been the greatest escape and it now had failed me. I continued to sit in the sand as tears streaked down my face. I looked up at the sky for a clue or sign, something to indicate that everything was going to be okay. There was nothing. The peaceful feeling I had found weeks earlier had gone and my emotions were now wreaking havoc on my life. With what little motivation I had left, I found my way back to the house.