Love Emerged (31 page)

Piper comes to my side, gripping my hand in hers. “There’s a garden out back. Let’s go.”

She tugs, and I follow her. We sneak through the kitchen which is busy with servers and cooks preparing today’s luncheon.

“We need this.” She swipes an opened bottle of white wine and leads me through French doors.

Snow covers the garden, and there aren’t any flowers casting a path for us to follow, but we walk over a bridge and to a gazebo on the other side of the small frozen pond.

She sits down, taking a sip of wine, and hands the bottle to me. “You know, I have to be the crazy friend now.” She laughs. “We can’t both be serious.”

Piper’s known for being the ultra-serious one. It took me forever to encourage her to loosen up around me.

“I had to hijack you and steal a bottle of wine.”

I pass it to her, and she downs another swig.

“Man, rich people have good wine.” She smiles, sneaking another gulp.

“Watch out. You’re going to be puking in the woods, and Tanner will have to carry you out.”

She tilts her head, as though considering if it’s worth it.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She hands it to me. “He might get pissed since we have to fly back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I whine. “You won’t even be able to see the apartment.”

“I will after. Promise.”

I think about my friends and Dylan’s family who are here, and here I am, hiding out in some gazebo in a place where I don’t feel like myself.

How have I allowed these people to make me feel ashamed of who I am?

“Hey.” Piper draws my attention.

But my mind is whirling like an F5 tornado right before it plows into a house. I’ve allowed them to treat me however they wanted, and I don’t need to be polite anymore.

“My dad is dead,” I say.

Piper slides over, placing her hand on my leg. “I know. I’m sorry,” she says in her sweet Piper voice.

“No. My dad is dead.”

Her arm wraps around my shoulders to console me. “I know, sweetie. It will just take time.” She’s urging my head to lie on her shoulder, not understanding what I’m conveying.

“No.” I rush to my feet. “My dad is dead, and I don’t have to do this shit if I don’t want to. I don’t need to be here and let them treat me like I’m scum.”

Piper stands up, matching my stance. “No, you don’t,” she agrees.

I laugh at her. “Let’s get out of here. You are here for less than twenty-four hours, and I’m not wasting a minute of it.” I grab her hand and tug her forward.

“Hold up.” She swipes the wine bottle. “Not without this.”

She holds it up, and I kidnap it from her hands and drink a large gulp.

We cross over the bridge again and go through the kitchen. When we reach the room, everyone is talking in silent tones. June’s eyes find mine, and I match her steady stare with my own.

“Let’s go,” I whisper to Dylan.

He’s talking to some guy, and I have no idea who he is.

“Excuse me. My girlfriend, Hugh’s daughter, needs me.”

“Oh, please. I’m sorry for your loss,” the older gentleman says, looking surprised about who I am.

“Thank you.” I drag Dylan away. “Have you been telling everyone who I am?”

A wide smile crosses his lips. “You bet your ass I have been.”

“You’re a sweetie.” I rise to my tiptoes and kiss his cheek, making that smile larger. “So, I want to go. I don’t need to be here.”

“Okay, whatever you want.” He moves toward the door, whispering to his family members as we go.

We’re all outside, waiting for our limos, when June comes out.

“What are you doing?” She walks directly to me.

I see Len behind her, and soon, Cate, Lily, and Xavier, follow, too.

“We’re leaving,” I say, turning around. Dylan stands by my side, and I feel more confident now. “You don’t want me here anyway.”

“That doesn’t matter. We have a standard, and those who know who you are will gossip if you leave.” She places her hands on her hips and tries to stare me down.

“You think showing up here for a few minutes and sneaking off with your friend with a bottle of wine is responsible? Worthy enough to be a Vitron? Think again. You wonder why you’ve been on the outside? Your mother was nothing but a whore who tricked my son. He’s more of a man than most, and that’s why you are still in our lives.”

Her insult blows the wind out of me. Not many have the capability of stealing words from me, but she hit every insecurity I have in one breath.

“Hold on a second, Mrs. Vitron.” Lana steps in front of me. “Bea has done nothing. She sat quietly while you shunned her to the second pew. She was not mentioned in the eulogy by your son, and she was not mentioned by the priest. No pictures of her were at the church. You’ve erased her out of your family life, and let me tell you, it’s your loss. She’s a beautiful person inside and out, and you will regret the way you’ve treated her. Now, she wants to leave, and that’s what she’s going to do.”

Lana crosses her arms, and I stifle my laugh.

“I don’t know who you are. The boyfriend’s mother or the drunk’s mother?” She eyes Piper.

We all glance at Piper sipping the wine bottle. Her eyes crinkle, and Tanner laughs.

“Have a good day, Mrs. Vitron, and thank you for having us in your home. It was most delightful.” Lana portrays a high-class person, smiling and then linking her arm with mine.

“The Will reading will be tomorrow at one. I’m positive you’ll be there,” June says to my retreating back.

“I already heard from the lawyer.” I raise my eyebrows. “I’ll be there.”

Her face falls because she didn’t expect me to know the details already.

We climb into the limo, and I feel like a huge boulder has been freed from my back. Lana and I laugh, finding amusement in June’s facial expressions.

“Okay, okay,” Dylan interrupts our fun time. “I like this whole Lana-and-Bea bonding time, but I’m feeling a little left out.”

Lana looks to me, and we both bust out laughing again. I turn to Dylan and frown my lips. Then, I slide to sit on his bench, and Patrick moves over next to Lana.

“I’m sorry, baby.” I place my hand on his face. “You’re my knight.”

“Thank you. I mean, my mom comes in here, like some miracle worker and raises you from the trenches. That’s my job.”

“You do that, too. I’m sorry.” I pout.

He continues his whiny act, half-laughing. “No more. I fix your problems,” he says.

I nod. “Okay.”

I kiss his cheek, but he turns his head at the exact moment and locks our lips together. His hands come up and hold my head firm, so I can’t move while he thoroughly kisses me, with tongue.

We break apart, and he shifts to look at his parents. “Sorry.”

I’m not sure if they say anything because I’m enamored with him right now.

“I love you,” I rush out.

A sly smile forms on his lips. “About time. I couldn’t say it first.”

I slap his shoulder, and he laughs.

Composing himself, he looks directly in my eyes, love pouring from his own. “I love you, Bea.”

I jump into his arms and cast kisses to his face.

“What a show we’re getting,” Patrick says to Lana.

“Lucky us to have both our boys find their ones,” she comments.

The next day, Dylan and I say good-bye to our family and friends, promising to see them soon. It’s odd, not being in Detroit anymore, but it’s nice being in a new city, too.

We go to the lawyer’s office, and to my surprise, June and her group stay to one side of the waiting room with me on the other.

Dylan holds my hand as we walk into the conference room.

“I’m Mr. Wexburg, your father’s lawyer.” A man about my father’s age with early graying around his temples holds out his hand to me. His lips turn up, and he shakes my hand. “Hugh shared a lot of great things about you.”

I nod and shake his hand.

“Please have a seat.” He points to the two closest to him.

June quickly grabs the one on the other side. It’s like a divorce mediation—Vitron versus Zanders.

Mr. Wexburg begins the Will reading and then places all the paperwork down.

“I want to go on record”—he glances over to the typographer—“that Mr. Hugh Vitron last changed his Will seven years ago when Bea Zanders turned eighteen. He’s signed off on this Will every year after, stating no changes. I suggest that none of you try to contest this because I have the paperwork to prove he’s been in his right mind each year. He worried about some of you not accepting his wishes, so we’ve dotted all the I’s and crossed all the T’s.”

He sternly looks at June, and she ignores him.

“With that being said, let’s begin.”

My stomach knots, but Dylan clamps his hand on mine.

“Article one. I direct my executors to pay my enforceable unsecured debts and funeral expenses, the expenses of my last illness, and the expenses of administering my estate.” He looks over to June. “You will be reimbursed for his funeral expense.”

She smiles and shoots me a smug look.

“Article two. I give all my tangible personal property and all proceeds of personal property and insurance to Beatrice Zanders.”

Dylan gasps next to me.

“No,” Len says, “that’s ridiculous. What is she going to do with it?”

The other side of the room begins stirring, and Xavier catches my eyes, smiling.

“Len, I explained these are his wishes. Let’s continue. Article three. I give all my residences, subject to any mortgages or encumbrances thereon, and all policies and proceeds of insurance covering such property to Beatrice Zanders.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. There’s no way he was in his right frame of mind,” Cate says.

I stay quiet, wanting to get out.

During the last few weeks, my dad told me I was left with everything, and he talked about what I should do with it all. It never really felt real, and I didn’t want the money or the houses if it meant he had to die in order for me to get them. I told him to spread his wealth with the people who loved him.

“You’re one of the only ones who truly loves me,” he said.

I questioned his comment at first.

“Did she get it all?” June stands up, eyes peering down to Mr. Wexburg.

“Sit down, and I’ll finish.”

She continues to stand.

“Tell me, Wayne,” she says through her clenched teeth.

Mr. Wexburg glances to me and then the paperwork. He leans back in his chair, linking his fingers. “Yes, everything goes to Bea.” He looks over to me and smiles. “It’s all yours.”

“Bitch,” Lily says.

Xavier knocks his shoulder into hers.

“You’re telling me, I went over there most days since he’s been sick for nothing?” She rolls her eyes, grabs her purse off the table, and leaves.

Cate just shakes her head and follows her daughter with Len and Xavier right at her heels.

June stands there, almost challenging me. “Well”—she looks me up and down—“I guess you need it much more than I do.”

She raises her nose up in the air, but I don’t throw any insults in return. She’s not worth my time, and I’m not one to kick a bitch when she’s down.

The room clears out, leaving me, Dylan, and Mr. Wexburg. Mr. Wexburg looks to Dylan, who I think is in utter shock of what just happened.

“If you’ll excuse us, Mr. McCain, I’d like to have a word with Bea.”

Dylan nods and stands up, but he bends down and kisses my cheek. “I’ll just be outside,” he whispers.

Our hands brush along one another’s.

The door clicks shut, and an easy smile crosses Mr. Wexburg’s lips.

“So, there’s another piece of business I need to discuss with you. Have you looked in the box Gretchen gave you?”

I shake my head, confused about how he even knew about the box. Every day, my fingers have gripped it, but I didn’t have the heart to lift the lid. If there’s a letter, which I assume there is, it’s my last new words I’ll hear from him.

“Okay. I need you to. Your father wanted you to have it, and I don’t think I’m divulging anything to tell you there are things inside. Your father loved you very much. He was a good friend of mine. He just seemed to live double lives. Unsure of where he fit. I like to think that’s true when it came to you, too.”

His comments have my mind spinning, and I wish the box were right in front of me to decode his message.

“Thank you, Mr. Wexburg.”

“Please call me Wayne. I’d like to offer my services to you at no charge. Your father raved about how talented you were, and if you need anything from me, please just call.” He slides his card over with his cell phone on the back. “I’ll greatly miss your father. He was a remarkable man.”

He slides his chair out, and he stands.

I follow suit. “Thank you for everything, Wayne.”

I shake his hand, and there’s sadness in his eyes.

“My pleasure, Bea. Good luck with everything. Your father was quite fond of Mr. McCain, by the way. Best wishes.”

I tilt my head, trying to figure out his meaning.