Page 34 of The Cabin
“No, that’s fine,” I murmur. “Five million dollars in life insurance? You’re sure you have that number correct?”
One corner of his mouth turns up in something like a near-smirk. “Yes, Mrs. Bell. I’m certain.”
“Just making sure.” I have to lean forward, elbows on my knees, face in my hands. “I had no idea.”
“The only other pertinent item at this time is that he wanted you, upon the reading of this will, to be made aware that all outstanding debts have been paid. This part, I believe, I should read in his words.”
I close my eyes, nod. “Okay.”
“Ahem. ‘Upon confirmation that my illness was terminal…’ ummm…ah, here we are. 'The total cash value of our investments was actually considerably higher, but I paid the taxes on it and then used the proceeds to zero out our debts. My student loans and yours, low interest though they were, are gone. All credit cards are at zero as well, and mine have been canceled and cut up, as well as your car loan; and as specified above, I sold my car. Our mortgage as well is now paid—you own the home free and clear, my love.’ His words, clearly. ‘You owe nothing to anyone. I arranged everything for the funeral, and all costs there have been paid. I also created a separate account, in your name, which I funded and then created an auto-payment system for all utilities. You won’t have to worry about paying utilities or the funding of that account for at least a year. Transfer a few grand into it at the start of each year and you’ll never have to worry about it. I have instructed Lewis to take care of this for you, however. He has access to everything, and I trust him absolutely. Focus on yourself, Nadia. One day at a time.’”
Tomas Anton removes his reading glasses, sets the will down and his glasses upon it. “That is all.”
“It’s a lot to process,” I whisper. “I had no idea he was doing all that. That we had…all that.”
Tess rubs my shoulder. “He’s taking care of you, even now.”
I hiccup, attempting to hold back sobs. “I have to go now.” I stand up, abruptly. “Is there anything I need to sign, or to do?”
“I do need a few signatures.” He twists a stack of papers, marked with arrow-shaped sticky notes. “Here…and here…and here…one more…and last one. Thank you. As I’ve said, specific financial details are available through Mr. McCleary. His card is included in the folder, here. Some of this will take time to work out, payments and such. The life insurance in particular might take up to another thirty days before you see it. They are not swift to pay out, I’m afraid.” He stands up, handing me a black folder containing the will and pertinent documents, with a business card attached to the inside flap via paper clip. “Your husband spent much of his last months preparing all of this. He has seen to your every need, as well as can possibly be done. You should be very proud, Mrs. Bell. It was an honor to have worked for him.”
“Th-thank you, Mr. Anton.”
“If there is anything else you need, please do not hesitate to contact me. My specialty is estate law, but if you should need legal representation or advice, I am but a phone call away.”
“Thanks.” I just need to get out of this building, away from people. I need to be alone.
Tess guides me out of the office, down to the parking garage under the high-rise. The inside of her car is silent for the first fifteen minutes of the drive home.
“Six million dollars, Nadia.”
I shudder. “I’m having a hard time fathoming what that means.”
“It means you don’t need to do a damn thing for the rest of your life.”
“So I’m supposed to do…what? Just sit around in our empty house and watch TV for the rest of my life?”
“Take the time you need, that’s all.”
“What I need to do is to get back to work.”
“You don’t need to, Nads. For real.”
I shake my head. “Tess, I have to do something. If I just sit around that house, I’ll go crazy. I have to go back to work.”
“If that’s what you need, then I support you. Just…you don’t need the money.”
“It’s not about money. It’s about my mental and emotional health. Even before…before, um. Yeah, even before all this, I had to work, to stay busy. You know this about me.” I laugh. “Six million dollars.” I laugh again, because it’s better than crying. “What the hell am I going to do with it?”
“Live off it? Splurge?”
I can’t stop the tears, now. “On what? What matters, anymore? Purses? Shoes? A new car? What the fuck am I supposed to want, or care about, Tess? My husband is dead. Everything else just seems…meaningless.”
