Page 10 of Hold You Close
I wish a lot of things.
I wish I could change the past. I wish my sister was still alive. I wish her kids still had a mother and father. I wish I knew how to answer questions about their future and how any of us are supposed to move on.
“I saw Jolene,” London says, probably just to annoy me. Which it does.
I pull onto the highway, grunting in response. I saw my ex among the crowd, wearing a ridiculous hat and crying fake tears, but I didn’t speak to her.
“It was nice of her to come, don’t you think?”
Nothing my ex-wife does is charitable or kind. She’s a snake, filled with venom and ready to strike at the first thing she can stick her fangs into. Usually it’s me. And speaking of fake—London doesn’t like Jolene any better than I do. “No. I don’t.”
London rolls the window down and grumbles under her breath. “Whatever.”
I roll up London’s window and turn up the A/C, just to piss her off. “She didn’t come to be nice, London. She came to gawk and get gossip so she can be the center of attention at work tomorrow. It’s not as if she even liked Sabrina.”
“Everybody liked Sabrina.” Now it’s London whose voice has an edge.
“You know what I mean.”
She turns toward the passenger window, giving me the cold shoulder for the rest of the ride.
Fine with me.
But it’s true, what she said. Everybody did like my sister. Sabrina didn’t have a mean bone in her body, and she always had a smile and something nice to say to anyone, even my shrew of an ex-wife.Sweetwas a word I heard over and over again today as her friends and family mourned her. Kind-hearted. Generous. Thoughtful.
Did you know she volunteered at the Humane Society?
When my mom passed, she brought dinner over every night for a week.
I can’t tell you how much we’re going to miss her at work—she was the hardest working nurse on the floor.
I might have had the better grades, higher SAT scores, and more trophies on the shelf, but I’m positive no one ever called Sabrina an asshole, or punched her in the face, or told her she had the emotional sensitivity of a wood chip. She knew how to make people feel good about themselves. She made the world a better place.
Me? I know how to run a club and have a good time. What I make is money.
Which is why I’m stunned half an hour later when the lawyer reads Sabrina’s will, in which she’s left her children to me.
Three
London
“I’m sorry—what?” I put a hand in the air to stop the attorney from going on. “Can you repeat that last part?”
One glance across the conference table at Ian tells me he’s just as shocked as I am to have heard his name listed as primary guardian of Sabrina’s kids. His face has gone pale.
The attorney at the head of the table reads it again. “If my husband does not survive me and I leave minor children surviving me, I appoint as guardian of the person and property of my minor children my brother, Ian Chase. He shall have custody of my minor children, and shall serve without bond. If he does not qualify or for any reason ceases to serve as guardian, I appoint as successor guardian my friend London Parish.”
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” Ian’s deep voice fills the room as he rises to his feet, one hand on his chest. “Are you saying she left the kids to me?”
We all glance at the empty chairs where the kids, tearstained and exhausted, had been sitting until a few minutes ago when Christopher volunteered to take his younger siblings to find something to drink. The poor kid is shouldering such a huge burden, trying to be strong for his sisters while dealing with his own grief. And those sweet little girls—Morgan is at that age where she needs her mother more than ever, and darling Ruby has hardly spoken a word since we got the news. My heart aches for them.
“Yes.” The attorney looks at Ian. “You weren’t aware of her wishes?”
“No. When was this will made?”
The attorney glances down at the paper in his hands. “Actually, it was signed only recently. Last month, in fact. The fifth of March.”
“She never said anything to me about it.” Ian, clearly agitated, loosens the knot in his tie.
