She laid the letter on the table, her mind racing. It couldn’t be good, whatever it was. Anything to do with lawyers usually wasn’t, and anything that had to do with Nathan definitely wasn’t. All the times his father had gotten in touch with her, he’d done so discreetly. Ethan Longstreet would never contact her through his business.
She tossed it onto the table and went about making some hot tea to give her hands something to do and chase away the sudden chill that seemed to settle in her bones despite the unseasonably warm weather. Maybe she shouldn’t have accepted it. Maybe she should have refused to sign for it. What would have happened then? What if she simply refused to open it? Would they send another?
She was still staring at the envelope two hours later when Kieran and Matt came through the door. Their laughter sounded loud and foreign after sitting in the silence for so long.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Matt asked the moment he saw her face. What could she tell him? Oh, it’s nothing, dear. Just that I received a certified letter from the father you’ve never known and has never tried to contact you.
She opted for cautious honesty. “I’m not sure, really. This came in the mail today.”
Matt looked at the envelope. “Longstreet & Son Legal?” The name held no meaning for him, but he knew enough to sense that anything with “Legal” in the name probably wasn’t good. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet.” Faith felt Kieran’s eyes on her. Knew that he recognized the name even if Matt didn’t.
“You have to open it, Mom.”
“I know.”
“Do it now, while me and Kieran are here.” Even though she was a wreck, Matt’s words made her heart swell. Protecting her, comforting her, even though she was the parent. And including Kieran, as if he understood how much he had come to mean to her.
She nodded, her fingers shaking so much as she tried to peel apart the sealed lip that she gave herself a paper cut. Before the blood could soak through the expensive vellum stationary, she handed it to Kieran. “Would you mind?” she asked, reaching for a tissue to wrap around her finger.
Kieran extracted two items – a long, rectangular, legal-size envelope also bearing the name of the firm, and a smaller note-sized one, hand-written and addressed to Faith. Faith regarded both as if they might bite her.
“Start with the official-looking one,” she said. Kieran nodded and opened the legal letter. His expression gave nothing away as he scanned the paper. Faith didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until he folded it back into thirds and slipped it into the envelope.
“It’s a notification that you and Matt have been named as beneficiaries in a will.”
“Who’s will?”
Kieran met her eyes meaningfully. “Ethan Longstreet.” Faith’s face softened. “Oh, no. Not Ethan.”
“Old Ethan?” Matt asked, a frown on his face. “The guy that used to take me fishing?”
Faith nodded. “What did he leave stuff to us for?” Matt asked.
Because he’s your grandfather. “I think he wanted you to remember him. You two always seemed to have a good time together.”
“Yeah, we did,” Matt agreed. He looked at Kieran. “Does it say how much?”
“Matt!” Faith scolded. “It doesn’t matter! What matters is that he remembered you. Have a little respect.”
Looking properly abashed, Matt apologized. “I’m sorry, Mom. You’re right.”
“Actually, Faith,” Kieran said, his face unreadable. “I think it might matter in this case.”
“Why?” she asked, though the sinking feeling in her stomach already presented her with a possibility.
“Because he left you one million dollars and his son is contesting it.”
“Holy shit,” Matt breathed. Faith couldn’t even bring herself to admonish him for it, not when the same words were sounding in her own mind.
“One million dollars?” Faith whispered.
Kieran nodded. Oh, Ethan, she thought. What have you done?
Kieran handed her the small, sealed envelope with her name written across the front. “This is addressed to you. It looks personal.”
Faith looked at it, recognizing Ethan’s scrawling script. At least it wasn’t from Nathan.
Dearest Faith,
Yesterday I was told by a snot-nosed doctor barely old enough to shave that I have a particularly aggressive form of cancer, and that I should start getting my affairs in order as soon as possible. I told him that I am pretty aggressive, too, but he doesn’t seem to think I have much of a chance.
If you are reading this, it means that he was right and I was wrong. I hate being wrong.
I didn’t want to tell you, not when you and Matt are so excited about starting a new life. I wish I could have been a part of it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there more for the two of you. You are raising a fine boy, Faith. I’m grateful for the time you allowed me to spend with him. You are a good woman. I would have been proud to call you my daughter.
Nathan will no doubt pitch a fit, but these are my final wishes. He doesn’t know about the cancer yet, but it’s inevitable that he will soon.
It is my hope that I can do for you in death that which I did not have the courage to do in life. I know that you and my grandson will make good use of it.
Ethan Longstreet