Second Chances (18 page)

Abby took the stairs to the third floor, two by two, and closed the bedroom door behind her. She opened a shoebox in the closet, following her mother’s example, and counted the money that was paper clipped in thousand-dollar stacks. There were three stacks and four hundred fifty-one dollars in an envelope. Her checking account balance was one thousand two hundred seventy-two dollars, but that was earmarked for household bills.
If I start selling off antiques from the house, it will raise too much attention. I’m only the manager as far as everyone other than Mel and Betsy knows.
Abby stared at her mother’s jewelry box on the dresser, feeling that she would surely die a painful death in hell if she sold any of Charlotte Melrose’s prized jewels.
Too bad, Mom, it was you who put me in this damn position anyway. The jewelry is getting listed on eBay today.
Abby yelled downstairs for Betsy to join her with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She peeked out the back window of her third-floor bedroom and saw Erik puttering around in the backyard.
Good. He’ll be busy until dinnertime for sure
. With the oversized box of jewelry and two glasses of wine, Abby and Betsy sat on the bed and began sorting Charlotte’s treasures.

“Something doesn’t seem right,” Abby said. “None of these pieces look familiar now that I’m actually studying them. Where the heck is the good stuff?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I swear this isn’t my mom’s fine jewelry. Don’t you remember my parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary and that diamond necklace my dad surprised Mom with? That puppy cost him over seventy-five thousand dollars. Everything is thrown in here like it means nothing. Mom took care of the expensive pieces, and everything had its place. I know exactly what this is.”

“What is it?”

“Bait. Haven’t you ever seen that on TV? The homeowner puts insignificant jewelry out in the open in case the house is ever burglarized. Damn it. Where would she have put the real pieces? She had over two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry.”

“How thoroughly have you gone through this room?”

“Not very well, but I haven’t found anything in what I would consider the obvious places. I’m sure there’s something in here I can sell, though. Let’s separate the gold from the costume jewelry and see what we come up with. Anything that might have value, I’ll list on eBay. We’ll divide everything into two piles, one for costume jewelry and one for gold or silver.”

Betsy stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.

“Now what’s wrong?”

“Are you actually saying your mom had costume jewelry?”

Abby pondered that question for a second. “Crazy, huh?” She smirked. “She probably kept the fake baubles she had before my dad got rich, but some of them might have value since they’re considered vintage now. Don’t worry. As
the
Charlotte Melrose, she never wore any of it, I can guarantee you. I’ll get started if you don’t mind running downstairs and offering Erik a beer or something. Make small talk with him for five minutes. That should hold him over for at least another hour.”

“Got it, I’ll be right back.”

An hour later, all of Charlotte’s junk jewelry and semi-precious gemstone jewelry was divided into two piles.

“What do you think this is worth?”

“First, I’m not going to feel guilty, because selling these pieces will tide me over for a few weeks while I try to find the real stuff. It’s going to take a full day to take pictures, check out eBay’s completed listings to know the value, and list this junk, but even after all the fees, there’s at least a thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry sitting here. Maybe I can find some other things in the room to sell. Nobody will know the difference since they aren’t allowed up here anyway.”

“Except Erik.” Betsy grinned.

Abby stammered with a bright red blush, “It was that obvious, huh? Okay, your job is to keep him busy so he doesn’t wonder what I’m up to, at least for a day or two. It’s okay if Mel knows, but nobody else. I’ll bring my laptop up here and get busy starting first thing in the morning.

After breakfast the next morning, Abby locked herself in her room and began the tedious process of listing items on eBay. She typed the descriptions with a fury and found a sunny area near the street-side window to take good pictures. She wanted even the semi-precious stones to dazzle in the sunlight, and with the professional quality camera she had brought back with her from St. Thomas, she was successful. At noon, she took a much-needed break and went downstairs for lunch.

Erik slowly walked around the patio, inspecting the pergola he had recently completed. The wind chimes hung in front of him, swirling in the breeze and singing out a beautiful melody while glimpses of sunlight danced off each individual crystal.

Abby joined him with a glass of tea. “We’re going to have lunch in about twenty minutes. Betsy is making grilled cheese sandwiches and pasta salad. Does that sound okay to you?” She glanced around for peering eyes before giving him a quick kiss.

“I haven’t seen much of you since yesterday. Is everything all right? You don’t have regrets about us, do you?”

“Oh, Lord no. I’ve been swamped with a project for the family, that’s all. I should be done in a day or two. I’m really happy about us. No worries.”

“I am, too, and I’m sorry about the other day. I’m not going to let Brandon get under my skin anymore. He’s just a highly paid moron on an ego trip. I’ll deal with him by avoidance. That should drive him crazy.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Erik scanned the backyard. “I think I ran out of projects here unless you can come up with something else. Do you mind if I start working on paying projects? And I don’t mean that in a bad way. Room and board is no different than pay in my opinion.”

“Of course not. You need to do what you need to do. I’ll miss seeing your face around the house though. It’s just going to be Betsy and me from now on during the day, unless Adam and Lisa are home.” She gave him one more lingering kiss and took his hand. “Come on, lunch is ready.”

Erik followed Abby into the kitchen and sat down to eat. Betsy had already placed a platter of grilled cheese sandwiches and a bowl of pasta salad on the table.

After eating, Abby wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin and excused herself. She had about an hour of work left to complete before the jewelry listings would be live. She planned to go through Charlotte’s old bedroom suite methodically in hopes of finding the expensive jewelry. Meanwhile, any artwork or antiques in the room were fair game. During the day, if Erik was actually out on a paying job, Abby would glean smaller items from downstairs that nobody would miss and post them on eBay, too.

This desperation is going to get the best of me. I have to find something to sell that has real value.
Then Abby had an epiphany.
Damn it, I never even followed up on Mom’s car insurance claim. I didn’t know who her agency was and forgot to ask Attorney Stupid Lewis that first day I met him.
With Lewis Law Office already on her contact list, Abby hit the green call button next to his name.

“Lewis Law Office, Adrianne speaking. How may I direct your call?”

“Hey, Adrianne, it’s Abby. Is Attorney Lewis in?”

“Yes, please hold.”

Abby snickered.
Obviously, she’s still pissed at me.

“Hello, Abigail. I was just going to call you.”

“Right… anyway, what have you heard from my mom’s car insurance company? There ought to be a check for me since her car was a total loss, right?”

“Of course, but it’s been held up because of her death. They obviously couldn’t make the check out to your dearly departed mother, you know.”

“Cut the crap. Am I getting the check or not?”

“Yes, dear, because you’re the only next of kin stated in her will. The monetary gifts have all been paid, leaving the home and assets to you. Since the car was an asset, you rightfully own it. Keep in mind, Abigail, everything else is being held in trust until you’re forty.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m well aware of that. So when will I get the check, and how much is it for?”

“Just one moment, I have to see if they’ve contacted me about it yet.”

Abby was put on hold and listened to elevator music for what seemed like an eternity before Attorney Lewis picked up again. “Abigail?”

“
Yes,
I’m still waiting.” She impatiently tapped her fingers on the table in her bedroom overlooking the park.

“All right, dear, I have everything in front of me, and yes, the check is in the mail. Since your mother’s car was a V-8 Twin-turbo E-Class Mercedes sedan with low miles and—”

“Attorney Lewis, I don’t care about the description. The car is a wreck now anyway. How much is the check?”

“Of course. The check was cut in the amount of fifty-nine thousand seven hundred eighty-nine dollars and forty-one cents. So there you go, almost sixty thousand dollars. That seems like a low number in my opinion. Would you like me to dispute the claim?”

“Oh, thank you, sweet baby Jesus. What? No, I don’t want you to dispute it.” Abby exhaled a deep sigh of relief. “Okay, originally you said you were going to call me. What about?”

“That’s right. I wanted to let you know I received notification of the wrongful death claim. Apparently, City Waste and Recycling plans to fight us. The claim is in the hands of their insurance company, and they’ve hired a law firm already. We should be hearing more very soon. I’m quite sure they’ll deny the claim.”

“Then what happens?” Abby looked out the window, thankful for the beauty just beyond the glass. The third-floor bedroom gave her quite an advantage with gorgeous views every time she peered out. A tear of relief slid down her cheek as she stared out at the bluest skies that side of the Caribbean.

“Then we fight it. That’s what you hired me to do, didn’t you, Abigail?”

“Yes, I did. Please keep me posted. Thank you, and goodbye.” Abby hung up and lay across the bed. The stress she had felt for the past two days temporarily subsided. She stared at the ceiling fan and watched the blades turn as she had in St. Thomas. Too many memories flooded her mind at that moment. If only she could go back in time before that cruise, before she ever laid eyes on Remy Bellavance, maybe then everything could have turned out differently. She lay alone in her mother’s old bedroom with her regrets, memories, and temporary relief as she cried herself to sleep.

Nine people sat at the dining room table for dinner. Tonight’s menu consisted of black bean soup, corn bread, a fresh garden salad, still water, and iced tea. Conversation flowed effortlessly among the group of friends. Brandon usually directed his comments toward Abby, dismissing—or at least trying to dismiss—everyone else in the room, especially Erik. His boastful self-praise was evident when he announced he was the lead defense attorney on a new insurance case. He didn’t have all the information yet, but he was certain it would be a slam dunk in the insurance company’s favor.

“Evidently, somebody is trying to soak money out of the insurance company I represent, stating it’s a wrongful death claim. I can probably have this case wrapped up in no time,” he joked. “I swear, people salivate at the thought of an insurance payout. They wait on the sidelines with their greedy little paws out for an insurance company to drop wads of cash into their hands. Obviously, there’s a new lawyer in town that’s going to shut them down in no time, and that lawyer would be me.”

Abby’s heart seized in her chest as she choked on her iced tea. She excused herself from the table and ran down the hallway to the nearest bathroom on the first floor.

“What was
that
about?” Brandon asked, smirking. He buttered a piece of corn bread and looked around the table.

“Maybe she’s just tired of your self-praise, Brandon. It does get old,” Melanie said. She got up, tossed her napkin on the chair, and followed Abby down the hall. “Abby,” Melanie called out as she knocked on the bathroom door, “can I come in?” Mel heard the sound of sniffles through the door as she waited on the other side.

“Are you alone?” Abby said behind the door.

“I’m alone. Let me in, Abs.”

The door creaked open, and Abby peered out before allowing Melanie in. “Mel, what if Brandon has my case? How am I going to find out? This isn’t something I want to discuss around the dinner table. Poor Charles works for City Waste and Recycling, I’m suing the company, and Brandon might be the one contesting my case. Everything is going to hell. I thought now that the car insurance company is sending a check, I’d be able to breathe again for a few months. Brandon makes it sound like anyone who files an insurance claim is a pariah. Plus if he actually has my case, he’ll learn everything about me, starting with the fact that I’m married and own this house. My private life is none of his business, and he has the biggest mouth in Charleston. I know he’ll contest my claim just to prove a point.”

“That’s his job as a defense attorney, to contest claims. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s personal. I just wonder how good he is at his job since you can’t believe everything he says. He’s over-the-top full of himself.”

“You’re right, but do you think Attorney Lewis would know who City Waste and Recycling’s insurance company hired to represent them?”

“Probably. Call him in the morning. The sooner the better, so you don’t go off the deep end over this.”

“Lewis Law Office, Adrianne speaking. How may—”

Abby interrupted. “It’s Abby. Is Attorney Lewis in?”

“One moment, please.”

“Whatever.” Abby listened to that god-awful elevator music again for what felt like forever until he picked up.

“Abigail, what can I do for you?”

“Hello, Attorney Lewis. I need some information.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you know what law firm City Waste and Recycling’s insurance company retained?”

“Why would that matter one way or another?”

“I’m curious, that’s all. Do you have that information?”

“Hold on, please, while I check through your file.”

Abby walked to the kitchen with the phone jammed between her shoulder and the crook of her neck, a pad of paper and pen in her hand. Betsy was just starting lunch preparations. A kettle of water boiled on the stove as Betsy dumped in a bag of bow tie pasta. She stood by the sink and chopped tomatoes and cilantro. Abby sat down at the table and whispered to Betsy, asking for a glass of iced tea. “Yes, Attorney Lewis, I’m still waiting.” Abby rolled her eyes at Betsy as she doodled on the paper. “Yes, okay… you said it’s the office of Andrews, Moore, and Luck? Yep, that’s all I needed. Thank you. I’ll be waiting to hear from you soon.”