The Secret

It wasn’t until the thunder clapped that she realized it’d been raining. Her drenched face wasn’t solely due to the tears that escaped her eyes as she stared down the newly occupied hole in the ground. Life would no longer be the same now that her soulmate was gone. His sudden inexplainable and rapidly progressing illness shook the foundation of the family and caused administrative crisis for their business. Yet she silently sighed relief knowing that she had urged her husband to complete his last will and testament in the past months so all was not lost. She slightly shifted her feet as the moistened ground began to give way to her weight, the mud now making its way into her shiny patent leather Louboutins. This was probably a good time to head back to the car she thought, to find some semblance of shelter, heat and repose. Each step away from the grave felt like moving in slow motion, weighted and sustained. Leaving her life-long partner in his final resting place meant she now had to face the world alone, but then again, where were her children?

The sound her high heels made as they clacked against the hardwood floors seemed to resound even more as she made her way through the empty house, up the stairs and slid open the heavy door to where she had discovered her dead husband’s body just a week before. He had insisted that his bed be set up in his home office, directly adjacent to the large cherry wood desk, an inheritance from his father-in-law. His scent still clung to the burgundy leather armchair and she draped herself over it, inhaling deeply. The warm vanilla tobacco aroma comforted her and reminded her of the strength that he once wielded from behind that very desk. Strewn across its surface were the last of his ideas, notes, and scribbles all on loose pages, in no specific order, lightly dusted in cigar ash. She dragged her hand across the disorderly pile of papers until it came across a half-smoked cigar within a crystal ash tray. She quickly picked up the cigar and drew it to her lips, and with the flick of a gold-plated lighter she lit it. The flavor had long since left the cigar but the sensation of the warm thick smoke filling her lungs gave her a sense of authority. Her eyes scanned the room until they fell on the liquor caddy with a half full whiskey decanter and a high ball glass atop a box wrapped in a bright red bow. She made her way over to the caddy and inquisitively marveled at the numerous loops in the bow and let her finger trace the mouth of the used high ball glass. Whiskey – it was his favorite. The remnants of crystallized sugar sparkled in the dim light let in from the partially opened blinds. Placing the wrapped box under one arm, she removed the stopper from the decanter and brought both items to the desk. Drawing once more from the cigar in her left hand, she held the whiskey decanter upside down out of the window and watched as the contents emptied. Holding up the now empty decanter towards the sky she said “Cheers Henry.”

As she turned her attention to the beautifully adorned box grabbing one of the ends delicately to watch it unravel, there was a knock on the door. It was the butler. “Madame LaVerie,” he said. She stopped. “They’re here.”

There they were. Her children. Technically, they were her stepchildren. However, for much of their lives, they had referred to her as mother. She had married their father, Henry LaVerie, when they were still too young to have any memory of their birth mother. They had always been close, that is until recently when a series of their father’s poor business decisions put their whole family’s fortune at risk. The early-onset Alzheimer’s diagnosis was kept on a need to know basis and according to their father, the board members did not need to know. Consequently, the damage was irreparable and the family’s wealth had been reduced to ownership of only their family home.

“Victoria,” said her step-daughter, Chloe, coldly.

“Chloe. Charles.” Her gaze met each of theirs as she said their names. “Now you show up? There’s nothing left, he’s gone.” She sat across from them with her shoulders high and the posture of the Egyptian Bastet.

“You didn’t tell us he was that bad,” said Chloe while holding back tears.

“Chloe, darling, I told you he was on a decline.”

“Yeah but you never gave us the impression he was dying.” Continued Chloe.

“I, myself had no idea. We all hoped he’d pull through but things don’t always work out the way we want them to. Now do they?” Said Victoria as she folded her hands on her lap.

“They sure worked out for you though! I’m pretty sure now that dad’s gone, his life insurance policy will keep you living here in this mansion, being waited on hand and foot,” exclaimed Chloe as she stood swiftly.

“Children, after all the debt is paid from your father’s life insurance policy, all we’ll have left is the house,” said Victoria pleadingly.

“We’ll have? Don’t you mean, you’ll have? We know about the will!” Chloe yelled.

“My dear, I can assure you whatever changes your father made to his will were done on his own volition without any interference from me.” Victoria walked over to Chloe to put her hand on her shoulder. Chloe violently moved her body aside with disgust.

“You manipulated him. He was weak and you took advantage of him. From the first time he lost that first million, you saw how easy it was for you to lose all of this. You made it difficult for us to keep in contact. He was always medicated, always resting, always being whisked away to some foreign hospital, his schedule always changing.”

“Chloe, that’s not true. You know I’d never keep you from your father,” she paused. “Besides, on the day where we laid your father to rest, you weren’t there. Neither of you showed up for him! Where were you?”

“Where was I?” asked Chloe.

“Yes!” cried Victoria.

“Where were we?” taunted Chloe. From her pocket, she pulled out a little black leather bound book and tossed it at Victoria. “You should know. I came here yesterday. I bought you a cake and had the baker wrap the box in their most beautiful red bow. I wanted to make amends, turn a new leaf. You were the only mother Charles and I have ever known and I knew you loved my father deeply. With him gone, you were all we had. But you weren’t here and wanting to be somewhat close to my father, I went up to his study. I saw his bed, the state of it… But I wanted to be close to him just one more time so I laid in it. It smelled like him, his aftershave, the cigars. Burying my face in the pillows to muddle the sounds of my deep sobs, I felt something. It was hard. It was that book you’re holding now. I opened it and even through the blurriness of the tears of my eyes, I could make out my father’s handwriting.” She glared over at Victoria who had now appeared ashen and unable to remain standing, slumped over at the end of the couch. “Open it,” said Chloe. Victoria’s hands trembled as they tried to pry open the cover of the small black book. “Would you like to read what he wrote Victoria?” mocked Chloe.

“My… dearest… Chloe?” read Victoria like a whimpering dog.

“Yes, my dearest Chloe,” said Chloe as she loudly recounted her father’s words from memory. “It seems as though I must now tell you the truth about your dear old dad. The truth about your history. The truth is my child that I was a greedy, less than honorable man, who saw an opportunity to get ahead in life. I had met your birth mother, Gloria during my days in college, she was wealthy and smart but in those days; wealthy women went to college for a different purpose. I was from meager beginnings and worked hard for what I had but to become a man of distinction, I needed to know the right people. I befriended her, I convinced her that I loved her, and I married her. I hate to admit this to you my child, but it’s true. Her father welcomed me into the family business and shortly after his passing, suddenly I was at the helm of something so powerful. It was then that I met Victoria. She and I had fallen deeply in love and our passionate affair was getting harder to hide from your mother Gloria and affecting how she cared for you and your brother. There is no other way to say this but Victoria and I, were responsible for your mother’s death and I’m afraid that she has taken this same action towards me. In my feeble state, I am vulnerable and often rely too heavily on Victoria as my provider. But, in my moments of clarity, I have made things right. I have set aside for you and your brother the wealth that is rightfully yours, your true inheritance. I have written the name of your mother’s attorney in the margin of this page. You can find his address on my desk. Go to him and tell him who you are, he has all of the proper documentation to dispute, the last will and testament that Victoria forced me to sign during my time of mental duress.” Chloe turned and looked at the now weeping step-mother she had once innocently loved but 24 hours ago. “But let her know I loved her once and had it not been for the consequences of my stubborn ego in this fragile mind of mine, we would have lived long and in love.” Chloe bent down in front of Victoria to make direct eye contact. “With all my love, I beg your forgiveness,” she paused and reached into her pocket once more. “He doesn’t even blame you Victoria and if you don’t want the video footage of your tampering in his office and the lab results from that whiskey decanter to be sent to the police. You’ll take this and go.” Victoria looked down at Chloe’s extended hand, in it a personal check for $20,000. “Now, get the FUCK OUT!”