The Will of Time

  The Will of Time

  Robin Bayne

  ISBN 1-891020-84-6

  Rocket eBook ISBN 1-58608-102-0

  (c) copyright Sept. 1999 by Robin Bayne

  cover art by Judith Huey

  New Concepts Publishing

  4729 Humphreys Rd.

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Another great ebook from PDABookstore.com

  Chapter 1

  Having been witness to history unfolding for over a hundred years, the brick house sat encircled by pines as old as its own walls. Trimmed in forest green, the house appeared to blend right into the trees, a guise that had helped it survive the scarring of the Civil War.

  Leia had never encountered a more fascinating house, and she had seen many houses in her career as an appraiser. It was almost as if the walls held a secret, and like a good friend, she needed to be near. She couldn't believe she might lose this place over a ridiculous, old-fashioned will.

  Anger pulsing through her, Leia's hand slammed the Camaro's gearshift into PARK. Immediately, she regretted the abuse. Martin stood a few feet away, and his onyx eyes bored into her, reminding her she was not one to take out her emotions on her car or anything else. Leaning back, she rested her head on the car's plush headrest for support. The drive over two-lane country roads, most of which were barely paved, had done nothing to ease the grief or resentment she'd felt since Grandfather's death.

  Her eyes popped open as the car door did the same. Martin, a tall black man, elegantly dressed in a three-piece suit, was waiting for Leia to alight.

  "Did it help?" he asked, always polite.

  "No. You were right, as usual. Grandfather's still gone and I still have to be married to inherit the house," she admitted, swinging her bare legs out of the car. She accepted Martin's hand as her sandaled feet hit the gravel driveway. "But I guess I feel a little better."

  "That's good, Leia, because you have a visitor."

  "Who now?" The house had been littered with callers for the three days since the funeral. Leia's kitchen table was blanketed with casseroles and cakes donated by well-wishers. They must have thought Grandfather had done all the cooking for the household, and now Leia would be in danger of starving.

  "Jason Maxwell." Martin's deep voice was flat, not indicating the poor opinion Leia knew he held concerning Jason.

  "Is Sara with him?" Leia asked, brightening at the thought of her best friend's red-headed, bubbly presence.

  "He came alone."

  "How odd. Even for Jason." She grabbed her purse and pushed the car door shut.

  "Mmm hmm," Martin said, walking alongside Leia. His back remained ruler-straight. The large man was a formidable escort.

  Leia smiled, knowing that without her grandfather around, Martin would become even more protective. Having been partners in accounting for so many years, both men had come to believe Martin was family. She pushed a wisp of stray hair from her dry, puffy eyes, and turned away from Martin. He wouldn't be amused to see her doting expression.

  "He's waiting by the fountain," Martin told her, nodding toward the right of the house.

  "You wouldn't let him in the house, huh?" Leia teased. "Thanks, Martin."

  He finally cracked a smile, then left her in the front yard.

  She watched his rigid back as he retreated into the house, through the screening of pines. Then, drawing a deep breath laced with honeysuckle, Leia walked toward the opening in the trees. Equal to a tennis-court in size, the garden area's central figure was a rustic cherub perched on a pedestal topping a fountain. During her childhood, water had splashed continuously from the happy angel's mouth. To a six-year-old, the fountain's figure was an angelic guardian sent by her parents after their death. As she'd grown older, the cherub had decayed past the point of such fantasy.

  Jason waited for her, on a dull wrought-iron bench in the cherub's sight. He'd sat there before, but always with his girlfriend, Sara, nestled next to him. Something about him was different today, something more than the absence of his better half.

  "Jason, what a surprise," she began, nearing her visitor. "Where's Sara?" Leia stood in front of the strawberry-blond man, noting that he had softened physically during the past few weeks. She decided it must be too much sedentary office work.

  "She's at school. You're keeping her really busy with this charity show business. But she loves it, puts one hundred and ten percent into every costume." He stood to greet her, then resumed his relaxed pose on the bench.

  "We've both invested a lot of time in this show, and Sara needs the credit to graduate. Grandfather wanted to sponsor it, and I'm sure he'd have wanted it to go on, even without him." Leia sat on the far end of the bench, wedging her back into the armrest to face Jason without touching him.

  "He was a generous man," Jason said, looking around the garden.

  Leia remained silent. Everyone knew about the will by now, even Jason. She didn't feel he'd been generous with his granddaughter. A twinge in her stomach silently told her she felt betrayed.

  "I know you did so much for him, Leia. You were just like a daughter, taking care of him and this place for all those years. How many dates did you turn down to keep him company?" Then he softened his voice to ask, "Didn't you know what was in his will?" He propped an arm on the back of the bench and rested his head on the back of his hand.

  "Only that I had to be twenty-five to inherit, just as he had." Leia sighed. "I didn't know that I had to be married, too. That part was a surprise. Is that what you came to ask me?" Her abrupt question drew Jason's gaze away from the cherub.

  "Actually, no. There's something else."

  "Go on," she said, eager to finish their impromptu meeting. Her black cotton skirt, though loose fitting, had finally started to cling.

  "Well, I have an idea that may help your predicament. I've given it a great deal of thought." He spoke slowly and stared into Leia's eyes.

  "Oh?" He'd only had a day or so. How much time was that for thought?

  "You only have a month to find a husband, Leia. You don't want to lose this house, this land. I don't want to see that happen. So what I'm proposing is marriage."

  She laughed. "And you're going to zap this bridegroom out of thin air? Really, Jason, what are you thinking about?"

  "Me. I'm thinking about me. And us. I'll marry you immediately. You'll inherit your home, no law suits, no legal problems."

  Leia stared at him now, her mouth gaping. She made a physical effort to close it. "Are you nuts? What about Sara?"

  "Sara is your best friend. She'll understand. We both know how you adore this old house. It's your whole life. Sara's loving, caring, a wonderful person. She'd want me to do this for you."

  "Oh no she wouldn't. Friendship only goes so far." Leia shook her head vigorously, shaking strands of hair across her forehead and into her eyes. As she pushed aside the wisps, Jason's full intent hit her even like a blow to the gut. Her stomach muscles cinched tighter.

  "And you get half of it all someday?" Her voice shook more than it had at the reading of the will. "Is that your plan?" Wondering which investor had showed interest in the property, and how much Jason hoped to sell it for, she noted that he at least had the grace to look uncomfortable at her accusation.

  He shifted his weight and looked down at his well-manicured hands. "I hadn't thought everything out, Leia."

  She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, it doesn't take me as long to think. No thank you, Mr. Maxwell," she said, trying to drip her voice with sarcasm. What nerve!

  He rose. "Half of the property is better than none. If you change your mind as the deadline approaches..." The statement was left unfinished and he headed for the front yard. His pace
was slow, as if he were thinking hard and couldn't walk simultaneously. As he reached the line of trees, he turned back.

  "Leia," he called, his voice almost apologetic.

  "I can take care of myself, Jason. I really have for a long time now. And I'll take care of my house, too."

  The sound of footsteps nearing made Leia twirl. Martin appeared, having entered the garden from the path that curved around from the back door.

  "Speaking of taking care of the house," he began, coming to a halt next to Leia, "I'm afraid I've broken one of your favorite flasks. I'm terribly sorry. Would you please come inside, so I can show you the one? Perhaps we can search for a replacement." His normally stern face was pinched and sincere.

  Leia nodded, acknowledging acceptance of yet another loss. Turning toward the front yard, she saw Jason flash a patronizing smile before disappearing into the pines.

  The reading of Grandfather's will had cast an air of anxiety over her entire day. First there had been the anticipation, which had made her stomach uneasy, and then the fateful moment when Mr. Sanders read the conditions Grandfather had stipulated for her to keep the house. Grandfather, an old-fashioned Irish man, had never fully accepted that Leia had grown up.

  On her sixteenth birthday, Grandfather had presented her with a white velvet box containing her mother's wedding ring. Considering it a miracle that it was recovered from the accident, he suggested she wear it to keep her mother alive in her heart. He told her she'd always be somebody's little girl, his now, and someday, her husband's. She had let the statement go unchallenged, and now it was too late. He'd died believing that, or so his last will and testament indicated.

  Leia went back to the house to consider the damages and slipped her sandals off. The gray slate floor cooled her soles, but not her growing anger as her thoughts returned to Jason. She should have slapped him, would have enjoyed the marks of her rings impressed on his smug face. It would be especially satisfying to mark him with the sapphire friendship ring Sara had given her on her twenty-first birthday.

  "Hi Leia! Martin told me I could wait for you here." Sara appeared from the kitchen.

  Her bright smile told Leia that Sara was unaware her boyfriend had just been lurking nearby. An invisible hand grasped Leia's heart. She knew the right thing to do was very different than following through, and when it came to hurting a sweet friend, it was near impossible.

  "Okay if I take the blue guest room?"

  "Absolutely. I'm going to go change clothes." Leia led her friend up the wide staircase, caressing the polished banister, relieved for the moment to not meet her friend's trusting gaze.

  "You wanna talk?" Sara asked, sticking her head into Leia's bedroom.

  Leia looked up and tried to smile, but could only manage a nod. Sara always came into Leia's room to talk when she stayed there.

  "Thanks for coming over, Sara. Just you being here makes me feel better."

  "Did you have any idea what your grandfather's will said?" Sara plunged directly into the matter at hand, plopping characteristically on the bed beside her supine friend. She smoothed the folds of the silk comforter with her hand, making aqua blue ripples like those on a small pond.

  "Of course not," Leia replied. "I'm the only family he had left. I just assumed, and I know that's a stupid thing to do, that when he died I'd get to keep our home." She rose from the bed and walked over to the bay window, its tiny panes of glass distorting the view. "Look out there. I mean, I just can't imagine him wanting this place to be auctioned off. What was he thinking?"

  "He was thinking that by now you should be married, that's all. And you know, he probably made his will a long time ago, way before you were old enough to be married. And he probably wrote it just how his father had written his own will. That's what my parents did, you know. They simply took their parents' will and changed a few words. He probably had that all set up way before he realized how good you'd turn out. Maybe after your parents died he figured you'd be a basket-case."

  "Then why didn't he change his will?"

  The perfectly logical question obviously put Sara at a loss for words. She rolled onto her stomach, the bed's silky covers moving like liquid with her. Finally she said, "Your parents married really young, didn't they? And didn't you tell me you'd been conceived on their wedding night?"

  "Yeah, Mom was young, in love, and very fertile. But that was back in the sixties. It's just not fair," Leia continued, louder. "These are the nineties! I mean, I might have expected this in the nineteenth century, when everyone was so predictable and boring. But I have a career. I practically raised myself. And another thing... Oh, sorry. I shouldn't be taking my frustration out on you."

  "It's okay. I've been thinking." Sara's voice softened. "Jason has a brother. He's great looking, and if you two got together, we would be sisters someday."

  "Okay, okay," Leia smiled finally, "You can stop that. Sara, I'm happy for you, if you are. But I do need to talk to you about something Jason said." If Sara knew that Jason had proposed to her best friend, even if it was strictly for financial reasons, there would be no more relationship. Could she be the one responsible for breaking Sara's heart? Leia looked at her friend. If they weren't such good friends, she would be envious of Sara's beauty and height. Leia avoided her own reflection in the room's Federal style mirror. She had no desire to see the tension lurking under her thick brown eyebrows and fly-away blonde bangs.

  "We'll talk more later, Sara. C'mon, let's go see what kind of damage Martin did to my collection." They started down the oak paneled hallway, Sara running her hand along the chair rail molding.

  Leia led her down the carpeted staircase, through the two-story foyer and into a small parlor. The room was used only as a showplace, as was obvious from the immaculate white carpet, white sofa and love seat. Each time she entered the room, Leia took a moment to focus on each object. The focal point of the room was the Chippendale satinwood commode, about the size of a small dresser, decorated with marquetry and ormolu rings. Above it hung a mahogany china cabinet, its glazed doors covered in Chinese fretwork. The two pieces, valuable antiques from the eighteenth century, made the perfect display area for Leia's bottle and glass collection. She opened the cabinet door slowly, and immediately knew what was missing.

  "Oh, no," she whispered, staring into the cabinet as if the item would reappear. "Oh, no."

  "What? What's missing?"

  "My flask."

  "Flask? Like for whiskey?" Sara sounded genuinely confused.

  "Yes. It was amber glass, and it's gone. I can't believe he broke that one."

  "Why? What was so special about a whiskey flask?" Sara examined the other bottles and dishes.

  "It was my father's. He got it from his father, I think. It had a baseball and bat embossed on it..a really rare piece. My father loved baseball, but that's all I really remember about him." Leia sat on the white love seat, feeling numb and unable to focus her eyes or thoughts.

  Sara closed the cabinet door, slowly, careful not to rattle the contents. She remained silent for a few moments, then sat beside Leia. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," she said, then sat up straight. The tears that had blurred her vision trickled down her cheeks, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand.

  "I don't know why I let you talk me into this, Sara," Leia said, swishing through racks of designer dresses. "Wouldn't Grandfather have just loved me wearing this one to dinner?" She held up a bright orange dress splashed with white polka-dots. "This one looks like a creamsicle." A picture flashed in her mind of Grandfather handing her one of the frozen confections as she played on the back porch. Her throat tightened and she shoved the dress between several others.

  "Ooh, lovely." Sara laughed and held up her own discovery...a red organza cocktail dress with a white net tutu. "Or this one, you could go appraise a house in this little number." The dress in question was a halter-top, sequined thing.

  "Didn't you design one like this for a term project last year?"Leia aske
d.

  "Not quite. Mine was better. Wait 'till you see the nineteenth century collection I'm working on. It's more trendy than these duds. Say, do you have a costume yet for the charity show?" An approaching saleslady put a damper on their playful banter.

  Leia shook her head, avoiding Sara's eyes.

  "I really didn't talk you into this, you know. You want the show to go on."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Say, what about this skirt?" Leia held up a floor-length black, silk skirt. The zipper was on the right side of the waist, and was nearly invisible in the narrow silhouette.

  "Donna Karan, right?"

  "Yeah, and black, too. Perfect for my mood," Leia said, and pulled a size four from the rack.

  "Oh, I'm sorry dear. Is it for a funeral?" the saleslady asked, accepting Leia's credit card. "You know, dear, once the wake is over things will really begin to seem better." The woman punched numbers on her cash register, chatting on. "This time next month you'll feel a bit better. I'm certain." Sara rolled her eyes at her friend, a sympathetic smile on her face.

  Leia fought the urge to cry; her heart pounding as she considered exactly where she'd be this time next month if she hadn't figured a way around Grandfather's will. She scribbled her name on the sales slip.

  "She'll be back for her honeymoon clothes soon," Sara said, nodding toward Leia.

  "Well, whenever you wear it," the saleslady said, "this outfit is versatile. And the fabric will last you a century."

  Leia dressed carefully for her dinner with Sara and Martin, though her heart was not in it. She put on the new black skirt with a silk blouse. It didn't feel like she was preparing for a family dinner, because of the unappealing matters she needed to discuss with her friends. Leia sighed as she pulled on the black stockings Sara had found in a lingerie shop.

  She decided to wear no jewelry, except for her mother's wedding ring. After only a few trips to inspect strange houses, owned by even stranger people, she'd learned the value of a wedding band on her left hand. She wanted to look nice, but still be comfortable tonight, so she added her black leather granny boots instead of the previously planned heels. She descended the back stairs, having decided to wait for her guests in the kitchen. She'd given MaryBeth, the part-time housekeeper, the night off.