Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (17 page)

But his hostile inquiries made her contemplate their future, the questions spinning through her mind like a mouse on an exercise wheel. Ben held a life insurance policy, but the particulars of it were a mystery. It was her understanding they owed little debt other than the mortgage on their home, but Ben always handled their bills. And then there was the business, T-Squared Construction. A play on their names—Tate and Taylor. Only now there was no Tate.

She needed to get her affairs in order. After lunch she called Tom Gainey, their financial advisor. He owned a small firm and promised to meet with her Tuesday afternoon.

Reese’s advice was sound; she’d soldiered resolutely from one day into the next, not worrying about the future until it was upon her. When Saturday came she found comfort in menial tasks that lay forgotten all week. The laundry had grown to a mountain; she dug through it, shoved into the washer. She and Trey had eaten from the refrigerator the night before; today she took pork chops from the freezer, planning a little culinary therapy.

The washing machine finished its spin cycle and she yanked opened the dryer, wet clothes in hand, ready to be tossed in. She stopped short when she realized there was already a load there, forgotten for days, waiting to be folded and put away. She dropped the wet pile back in the washer and reached into the dryer. Ben’s shirt—the shirt he wore on their last hike through Oak Creek Canyon was on top. She pressed the soft cotton to her cheek before hanging it up, caressing the wrinkled fabric.

Jake wiped his brow, knee-walked to the neighboring bush, vented his frustration by plying oversized clippers to the shrubbery lining his fence.

Arm muscles bunching with effort, he muttered in huffs of breath while abusing branches that wanted attention weeks ago. “Bitch just takes off like everything’s fine. Sure, why not?” Standing, he glugged from a large bottle of water. “Blows me a kiss and a
sorry for your loss
on her way out the door.” The memory still caused him to fume, out loud.

Times like this he really wished he had a dog. Robby Duncan had a dog he needed to find a home for—his kid was allergic. Damned ugliest dog he ever saw, but sweet tempered and obedient. As protective as a whole squad of U.S. Army Rangers. The dog wouldn’t abandon him in the middle of a crisis. And she damned sure wouldn’t turn her back when he wanted to scratch her belly.

Jake stripped off his sweat-soaked tee-shirt, adjusted his battered work jeans and moved on to the two citrus trees, stripping suckers from the trunks and gleaning old fruit. “I’ll try to make it home early, we can do something.” The acerbic mimic dripped off his tongue in disgust. “What the hell? Did she think I’d feel like
socializing
?” No, what he
needed
was somebody to keep him company while he figured out how he would manage without his best friend.

Grappling with hurt and disappointment that were swelling into anger; knees and back strained with overwork, he moved on to the neglected planting beds, weeds and sun-withered plants plucked and relegated to the ever-growing pile of yard debris.

His best friend died on Monday and Tuesday she left for a business trip.
In whose world was that more important than losing a friend of thirty-some-odd years? He studied a fistful of dry stems for the answer. And she didn’t come home early. Hell, she wasn’t home
yet
. “Too much work to do. More problems than they realized.” Wasn’t she just full of excuses? He tried talking to her on the phone, but of course she was preoccupied. A talk—someone to help him survive the crap that was his life—had to wait.

Hedge shears dangling, Jake stood back, surveyed his work. To cool his thoughts, and his body, he dropped his jeans and shorts, dove from the ledge into the deep end of the pool where the clear water was refreshing. After several vigorous laps he pulled his sodden body from the water and traipsed through the house without a towel, dripping as he made his way to the bathroom and the soothing spray of a hot shower.

Barefoot, he padded to the kitchen for a soda, dressed only in navy boxer briefs and an ancient college tee. With longing he glanced out the glass door, wished the weather was milder and he could crash in a lounger. But most of the day was already spent in the blistering heat so he opted for air conditioning. He fell into the sofa and flipped channels until he found baseball. But his mind was stuck in the past, on Ben. He muted the game and reached for the phone. There was one person he could count on to understand.

He always could count on Allie.

Allie clutched Ben’s jeans in her hand as she dashed into the kitchen, caught the phone on the third ring.

“Allie, it’s Jake. Just calling to check on you.”

She paused. Forced a smile into her voice. He didn’t need her drama. “We’re fine here. Laying low.”

But something must have bled through, because he pounced. “What’s up? Something upset you?”

She paused before answering. “No. Well, nothing really. It’s silly.” She paused another beat. “I was doing laundry and I found clothes in the dryer from… that night. Sunday.”

“Oh babe, I’m sorry.” His gentle caring nearly undid her.

“My heart just aches.” One fist lifted, pressed against her breastbone as if to relieve the pain as the other dragged the crumpled Wranglers. “It hurts for Ben, and for me. But mostly for Trey.” Leaning a hip against the counter, her hand lifted, shoved through her tangle of curls. Her words heated. “He’s only
fifteen,
Jake; he needs his dad.”

But Jake needed Ben around as well. Her voice grew softer, apologetic. “My guess is work hasn’t been much fun either.”

“Yeah, well. Nick’s been doing a great job keeping the jobs on track, but Ben was his brother.”

Silence hung on the line. Was Jake remembering that summer Nick graduated from college and hired on with the company? Over the past ten years it was a decision none of them regretted.

“Yeah, he’s really stepped up, but Ben will be missed for a long time.”

The knowledge that someone felt the same loss was somehow comforting. “I don’t know much about this stuff, but one day we should talk about the company and how Ben’s death affects it. I need to know you’ll be okay.” Ben’s words haunted her.

He’ll be alone. Take care of him, Allie.

“The company will be fine, Allie. Ben can’t be replaced, but there are life insurance policies on each of us specifically to protect the company. It’s a common practice.”

Allie nodded as she edged around the counter and dropped onto a chair at the table, her chin propped in a palm. “Good, then. I’m glad you did that.”

“There will be a few changes to the corporate paperwork. Minor. I’ll need you to sign.”

Her brow lowered. “Why would you need my name on company papers?”

“With Ben gone, half the company belongs to you now.”

Allie popped to her feet. “I can’t do that, Jake. I’ve never been involved with the company.” Her heart dropped. What was Jake thinking? Ben was the business whiz; not her.

“It’s already done. Besides, it would make Ben feel better.” His voice was nonchalant as the refrigerator slammed shut on Jake’s end of the line. “The attorney is drafting the paperwork; it should be ready next week.”

“We’ll talk about it.” Allie perched on the edge of her seat. Reached for the salt shaker and twirled it on the table. “That reminds me, though, I have an appointment with him Monday at ten to go over Ben’s estate. Do you have time to go along?”

“Of course, sweetheart; whatever you need.” A pull tab hissed and clicked in the background. “Everything else okay? Trey? There are a lot of changes in his life right now.”

She closed her eyes, massaged tension from the back of her neck. “He’s scared, angry, worried about the future, that we’ll be broke and have to move. I told him about Ben’s life insurance, but I don’t even know what it will cover. I’m worried I made him promises I won’t be able to keep.”

“Allie, you’ll never move unless you want to. I’ll make sure of that.” That fierce, protective tone was so Jake. “I’m sure Ben provided well for you; I can’t imagine otherwise.”

“Well, I guess we’ll know on Monday, won’t we?” She leaned back in her chair, staring through the slider into the backyard. “George has copies of all our insurance policies.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?”

The yard was two weeks’ high. A few dandelions poked their fuzzy heads through tall blades of grass. Ben didn’t have time for yard work the previous weekend because they were gone. Was it only a week?

“What I need is for Trey to mow the lawn. Either that or get goats.” The amusement in her voice startled her, it had been so long. “I’ll have to pull the mom card soon.”

“Give the kid time to adjust, Allie. I‘ll come over in a few days and help him out.” Amusement rode in Jake’s voice; but then, he’d always had a soft spot for Trey.

A hummingbird fluttered against the door. She’d have to remember to refill the feeder. “Thank you for that. How’s Michelle?”

“Gone.” The word was uttered with uncharacteristic bluntness. She didn’t push.

“You okay? Need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. Monday, then?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

The line clicked, Jake was gone. She pressed Ben’s jeans against her chest, went back to confront the rest of his laundry.

Allie was early. She’d been up with the dawn, paced the house for as long as she could stand it, and when she deemed it late enough to leave without beating the receptionist to the office, got in her car for the trip downtown. As she rode the elevator to the fourth floor she stifled a yawn bought on by the mostly sleepless night. Her palms were damp, which was just silly. As was the wild, erratic beating of her heart. Ben’s will was no secret after all, they were together when George wrote it up. There was an identical one bearing her name.

But the life insurance. Why didn’t she know more about that
? Dear God, please let them be able to keep the house.

Allie’s heels clacked against the marble tiles of the lobby. As she crossed the room she met the open gaze of Gladys Williams, the silver-haired guardian of the mahogany desk parked in the corner. “I’m Allie Tate. I have an appointment.”

“Of course, Mrs. Tate. Mr. Stephens isn’t quite ready for you yet.” She waved a liver-spotted hand boasting nothing but a plain gold band toward a seating area. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Allie perched on the ivory brocade sofa and stopped herself before brushing her palms over the fabric of her green sheath. She picked up a glamour magazine, then lifted her gaze at the ding of the elevator. Relief flooded her as Jake stepped from the car.

Mrs. Williams looked up with a professional smile. “Good Morning, Jake.

His smile was a quick flash of hello for the receptionist before he met Allie’s gaze and crossed the room. He dropped a peck on Allie’s cheek before relaxing into the seat beside her. She abandoned the unread magazine to a nearby table and sank back into the cushion. Her eyes scanned the original oils decorating the silk-papered walls as they sat together. Ben hadn’t mentioned they’d redecorated the office.

She slid her eyes shut, blindsided again. She was here because Ben was dead. Would it ever stop sneaking up on her?

Jake tipped his head to look her in the eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Excuse me, but if you’d follow me?”

Allie glanced up at Gladys and pushed to her feet. It was better to ignore Jake’s question than to lie to him. Gladys led the way in her smart, tailored suit, stopping at a small conference room where the attorney was already seated. A legal sized folder lay open, stacks of papers spread on the table before him. Jake, of course, had done business with George for years and she had met him several times in the past.

George Stephens stood as they entered. His dark brown hair cut conservatively short and black utilitarian eyeglasses easily pegged him as ex-military.

“Allie, I’m glad you could make it. Again, I’m very sorry for your loss.” George gave her hand an easy press. The ridges of scarring covering the back of his hand was soft, smooth, which surprised her.