Finding Julian Page 4

  I pried my hand away from Aunt Bev’s and got up from the sofa, only to find myself stumbling down to the floor. I closed my eyes and wished this was just a bad dream, that when they’d open again, I’d be back in my grungy Manhattan apartment. Only there was nothing but darkness as I drifted away from them all.

  Chapter Six

  When I woke up, I was convinced I’d dreamt it all. That maybe without realizing, I’d hoped my father had left it all to me. I mean, there was no way he would do that. It was too crazy.

  I released a titter and rolled over onto my side. Aunt Bev was peering down at me, a somber look on her already feeble face. This wasn’t a dream or my imagination gone wild. This madness was very much real.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, stroking my forehead lightly.

  Easing up, I rested my back against the headboard. The shocking news started to play over in my mind. I wondered about my father’s intentions, making such a decision. Did he feel obligated to give me everything out of guilt?

  “I’m good,” I finally said.

  My cell phone started to vibrate. It was still in my purse, which was tucked inside my travel bag on top of the table next to the bed.

  Aunt Bev eased away and started towards the door. “You should answer it. Someone’s been calling you persistently all evening.”

  I wanted to ask her about my father, if she knew why he gave me the estate. Only Aunt Bev was too swift. She was out the door before I could mutter a word.

  Slipping out of bed, I went over to the table and answered it. “Mom, listen—”

  “Jules, where are you?” she demanded. Her voice was frantic. The words started to fly out all at once. “Did you have the phone on silent or something? I’ve been calling you for more than three hours now. Anyway, I need to know what time you want me to pick you up at Penn Station.” She finally took a breath. “Then we can get your stuff out of the apartment before your landlord throws them out.”

  I swallowed and built up my nerve. “Mom, you’ll never believe what happened.” Starting from the beginning, I explained everything. When I finished, Mom didn’t make a sound.

  “Hello? Mom? Are you still there?” I confirmed.

  “Ye-yes,” she stuttered, sounding awestruck.

  “What should I do?” I asked. I had a migraine coming on from deliberating so much on my own.

  “What do you think?” she screeched. “Put the house on the market and collect the money once it’s sold.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t thought of doing that. This house, this land, had been in the family for generations. There was no way I could simply sell it. I didn’t have the heart.

  “Mom, I can’t do that.”

  “Well, why not?” She sounded appalled.

  “Because…” I hesitated. “It was his father’s. It’s Aunt Bev’s home, and Mackenzie’s,” I sighed, not sure where that came from. “As much as she hates me,” I added, “I can’t sell her home.”

  Mom released a sarcastic laugh. It surprised me. “Julian, listen to me, do you think that brat would do the same thing if she was in your shoes? Of course she wouldn’t. I can only imagine how much she and that conniving mother of hers are both boiling over with anger right now.”

  I thought back to their reaction, hearing the outcome of the will. “Yeah, they’re pretty mad at me right now. But still, it seems so selfish to sell it and not consider their feelings.”

  “Oh, my sweet girl, always thinking about others,” she whispered. “Jules, save yourself the trouble and get rid of it. Just come home. This is where you belong.”

  I sat at the edge of the bed, considering her words as I stared out the sliding glass doors at the darkening sky and the bright silver moon starting to rise. The sound of the roaring ocean below relaxed me.

  There was a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, telling me I should at least understand my father’s objectives before going back to New York. It had to be more than trying to get along with my half-sister or even learning about his company. There had to be more to it than that.

  Getting to my feet, I said, “I’ll take care of it, Mom. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll call you later.”

  Mom gasped. “What? Does this mean you’re not coming home?”

  Was that what I was considering?

  Tugging on the laced hem of my dress, I breathed out my reply, “I’ll let you know when I’m coming.”

  I hung up before she could press me further about coming home.

  After all, it was my decision. My father had placed it all on me. Still, I needed to know why. The only one with answers was Aunt Bev.

  Remembering the journal I saw her with on the beach that had my father’s name on it, I walked out the room in search of Aunt Bev. I remembered her reaction, how she seemed very secretive, closing the journal the moment I approached. She must have known his intentions, but for how long?

  Getting to the end of the passage, I walked in on an intense conversation between Seven and his father in the living room. Mr. Monroe shot me a nasty look as his eyes caught mine. My existence seemed to bother him. He didn’t even know me.

  “You should come home now,” Mr. Monroe said, glancing back at Seven. “I’m sure she won’t let you stay here, now that she has complete control over this place.”

  “That’s not true,” I blurted out, stepping closer to them. “Seven can stay here for as long as he wants. I’m in no position of putting him out. You heard what my father wrote in his will.”

  Mr. Monroe glared at me. He clenched his fist and tightened his jaw. “A bastard child, not even my sister’s daughter…” he shook his head.

  My fingers balled into fists. I wanted to punch him for saying that. “You—”

  “Dad, stop,” Seven jumped in before I could finish. It wasn’t going to be sweet. So I was glad he’d stood up to his father on my behalf.

  “Defend her all you want, son. But this girl,” he pointed at me. “I can see right through her. She’s just like that slut mother of hers. She’s only here for the money.”

  I couldn’t let that remark slide. I marched right up to him and slapped the smug look off his face. “No one is allowed to talk about my mother like that. No one. Not even you,” I snapped, shaking my now sore hand.

  Mr. Monroe’s eyes widened in horror. He touched his cheek and growled, “You—”

  “Stop it!” Aunt Bev called out. She stormed down the spiral staircase into the living room and stood between me and Mr. Monroe. “I’d like you to leave, Anthony.” She gestured towards the front door.

  His mouth clamped shut, humiliated. I only felt regret for Seven, having to witness me slapping his father. I wondered what he thought of me in this moment.

  “I’ll be getting a lawyer for my sister. You won’t stay here past tomorrow,” Mr. Monroe spat out through gritted teeth. He turned and started for the front door, but despair hit him deeply when he realized that Seven wasn’t following behind.

  Mr. Monroe looked over his shoulder and said in disbelief, “Son? Surely you aren’t staying?”

  I glanced at Seven. He appeared exasperated. Seven kept his back turned on his father as he said flatly, “I’m staying here.” His voice sounded hoarse. His shoulders sagged as if a million things were weighing down on him. I wanted to provide some comfort, return what he had done for me at the funeral.

  At the sound of the door slamming shut, I looked over and saw that Mr. Monroe had left the guesthouse. Good.

  “Well, that was dramatic,” Aunt Bev chimed in, smiling tight-lipped at me.

  I felt a little ashamed for losing my cool. Actually, I wasn’t too mortified. Mr. Monroe deserved it. Still, I thought an apology was at least necessary to Seven.

  “Sorry I slapped your father,” I murmured, barely meeting his eyes.

  He shrugged. “My dad’s a jerk. What he said about your mother was awful.”

  Seven brushed my shoulder lightly as he walked past me and down the passage. I wanted to follow him, make su
re he was okay. But I still needed to talk to Aunt Bev.

  I spun and faced her fully. “Did my father mention anything about giving me his estate in the journal you have?”

  She raised her brows. Aunt Bev had a look on her face as if she had been caught. Smiling innocently, she answered, “It wasn’t clearly stated—”

  “So you knew?”

  She pursed her lips and fumbled her words. “I…suspected something to that extent…but not…entirely.”

  Dropping my hands to my side, I continued to press her, “Why one month? What exactly does he want from me?”

  “Forgiveness,” she said sharply. “I thought that was made clear after Mr. Cornwell read the will.” There was still evidence of her holding back details. It was written all over her face.

  I stuck my hair behind my ear and asked in a softer tone, “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Aunt Bev tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “Julian, are you going to stay? Is that why you’re asking me all this?”

  I exhaled deeply. “No…look, Aunt Bev, I just want to know why me and not Mackenzie, or his wife.”

  She folded her arms and stared sympathetically at me. “Maybe your father felt you were more deserving of all he’d worked so hard to build. Maybe he knew your heart without even getting to know you.”

  “Really?” I snorted, “How so?”

  Aunt Bev moved closer to me and unfolded her arms. “Because of your mother, Julian,” she said in a whisper. “Sarah’s a good woman. Of course you would be just the same. Your mother didn’t come here that day for money,” she went on, “She came here to give him one last chance, which was to accept you as a Vanderson.”

  I didn’t know what to say after that. My mother never did explain to me why she had to see him before leaving for New York. I only knew money wasn’t the case. Now it made sense. It was for my sake. She didn’t want me growing up thinking I had a father who didn’t want me. Only, that’s exactly what happened. Yet, I wasn’t bitter. I was still holding on to the hope that, maybe staying would heal my heart, somehow.

  “One month though?” My voice came out faint.

  Aunt Bev heaved a sigh. “That’s all he asked for. Think about it, Julian, what do you really have to go back to? No job—”

  “There’s my mom,” I cut her off.

  She patted my arm. “Sarah will understand. Find the part of you that’s missing, my dear. Then you decide.”

  Her words resonated with me. “How could you possibly have known that—” I broke off, my mind racing. All those years, back in Manhattan, I’d tried to be strong and not think about my father. But underneath it all, I was secretly waiting for him to call and invite me to Narragansett, not my aunt.

  “Selling isn’t an option,” I said, “I wouldn’t do that to you. And since I can’t just hand it over to Mackenzie, I guess I’ll stay and figure out a way with Mr. Cornwell. But it’s not for a month, only until I sort out my options.”

  Aunt Bev threw her arms around me, hugging me gratefully. I slowly placed my hands at her back and hugged her in return. It felt good, so warm and sincere.

  I was seriously pissing off my mother by staying in Narragansett. Still, one more day really wasn’t that bad. It was enough time for me to find a way to give Mackenzie what she rightfully deserved.

  Chapter Seven

  I had breakfast with Aunt Bev the next morning, afterwards she took me for a walk down on the beach. Seven hadn’t come out to eat and somehow, that worried me.

  Strolling along the ocean with Aunt Bev, my thoughts irresistibly drifted to Seven and I found myself asking, “Does he usually sleep in?”

  Aunt Bev looked at me in wonder. “Well, now and then he will.” She pulled up her summer dress and tied it at her knees, so it wouldn’t get wet. “Don’t worry too much about last night, dear. Trust me, that wasn’t the first time Anthony Monroe’s been slapped for his foul mouth.”

  I chuckled. “Have you slapped him as well?”

  A mischievous grin appeared on her face as she towed on my elbow, leading me further away from the water. “Forget about that. Just enjoy the morning.”

  It was hard to forget about anything. Mr. Cornwell was going to stop by later upon my request, and I still hadn’t come up with any ideas as to what I was going to do with this so-called inheritance.

  “Tell me something,” Aunt Bev broke through my thoughts. She sat down on the sand and eyed the spot next to her.

  I settled down and pulled the loose hair through a rubber band, securing it at the nape of my neck.

  “What?” I asked.

  Aunt Bev laid back on her elbows. “Why do you think you have no right to this place and only Mackenzie does? You are a Vanderson as well.”

  “Because,” I gazed out at the water and cupped some sand into the palm of my hand, “she’s his wife’s daughter and—”

  “And you’re the lover’s, blah, blah, blah,” she waved me off. “He didn’t love Marlene, not the way he loved Sarah.” Her remark was of pure knowledge, not a guess.

  I was beyond curious now. “What? What do you mean?” All this time I believed I was a product of a fling. Not that my mother had placed the thought in my head. She’d never really spoken about her relationship with my father, and I never probed her for details. She always seemed sad whenever I tried to bring him up.

  “Their marriage was arranged by their parents. It’s all complicated and I can’t really explain it to you, Julian. My brother was the kind of man who always put his own desires last. That’s why he was never truly happy, even here at the estate. He gave up too much to please others.”

  She got to her feet and reached her hand out for me.

  “If he was sad living here, then why give it to me?” I asked.

  Aunt Bev clutched my hand and we started walking back towards the guesthouse. “Because,” she sighed, “he wanted you to be here, in the place where he was. Maybe, you’ll begin to understand him more by staying.”

  I doubted my being here would help me understand anything about my father, now that he was dead.

  When we came up from the beach, Mackenzie was lounging by the pool on the deck of the main house. She was wearing a barely there bikini and humungous shades that hid her piercing eyes. Still, I knew she’d been watching me all along.

  I ignored her and continued walking behind Aunt Bev towards the guesthouse, deciding to wait in the living room for Mr. Cornwell, when Mackenzie called out, “We need to talk.”

  Aunt Bev and I both stopped and glanced over at her. Mackenzie got up from the chair and walked to the edge of the railing surrounding the deck.

  Then she clarified, in the rudest way possible, “Not you, Beverly. You’re excused. I mean her.”

  Snorting, I folded my arms and asked, “What is it? If this is about our father’s money and the house, don’t worry. I’m going to talk to Mr. Cornwell about handing it all over to you.”

  She released a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t be stupid. Cornwell will never give anything to me.” Mackenzie took off her shades and leaned over the railing. “Beverly, I asked to speak with her alone.”

  This girl was a piece of work.

  I peered over at Aunt Bev and gave her an apologetic look. She patted me on my shoulder then whispered, “Don’t fall for anything she says.”

  Aunt Bev entered the guesthouse, leaving us alone. Mackenzie nodded me over to the deck. I obliged, curious as to what she had to say.

  The moment I joined her by the railing, she turned and faced me fully. “My uncle found a lawyer willing to look into the will,” she said sharply.

  “So it can be contested then?”

  “Of course,” she snorted. “Only, he’s doing things in my mother’s favor.”

  I folded my arms and leaned on one foot. “Therefore?”

  “Therefore, he’s trying to find a way for her to get the estate. Not me.”

  Shaking my head, I said firmly, “No. I’m not turning it over to your mot
her.”

  “Good. Hold on to that thought when they present papers to you.”

  Mackenzie lingered her gaze on me for a few seconds, taking in my features. I felt edgy.

  “I guess we’re finish here,” I said, turning to step down from the deck and head back to the guesthouse.

  She hissed behind, “Stupid bitch,” stopping me in my tracks.

  I spun around fast, furious by her insult, then went back up to the deck to give her a piece of my mind. “What did you say?”

  She rolled her eyes and glanced over at the ocean.

  I growled, “The only stupid bitch here is you.”

  “You don’t even get it,” she barked at me.

  My hands flared. “Get what? Apparently I’m stupid so enlighten me.”

  She straightened and inched closer to my face. “You were the one he wanted all these years even though I was right here with him. I had to work so hard for his love, but you,” she paused and shook her head slowly, her eyes welling up with tears. “You have no idea how high he held you in his heart. He loved you more. He never wanted me.”

  My anger started to whither a bit. Strangely, I wanted to make her feel better. “That’s not true. He loved you. He let me go.”

  Mackenzie sneered. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “Really? Why’d you think he left it all to you then?”

  I tensed at her words. How could our father love me over Mackenzie? She was the one who had him while growing up. Why didn’t he leave it all to her?

  “He sent my mom away,” I reminded. “He turned his back on us.”

  “Is that what you think?” Mackenzie lifted her head to the sky and let out a sarcastic laugh. “You have absolutely no idea what happened that day.”

  She dipped her head to look me dead in the eye again, appearing more irritated than ever.

  Feeling uneasy, I tried to leave, but Mackenzie gripped my elbow and stopped me.

  She gritted her teeth and warned, “You better not give it to my mother, or else.”

  I yanked my elbow away. “Or else what?” my words were sturdy. Maybe she thought she could intimidate me but she had another thing coming.