Page 65 of Finding Forever

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Sherri slid into a booth at her favorite tea shop and smiled at the waitress, who had brought her a peppermint tea without even asking. It was good when people knew what you liked!

Sighing, Sherri dumped her purse in the seat. She was tired and her feet hurt. As for her back, it was murder. The doctor had said she should get plenty of rest over the next two weeks.

Her first thought was one of rebellion, You get plenty of rest! I got stuff to do! But remembering her two-week stay at the hospital months earlier for elevated pressure and not wanting a repeat of that depressing time, Sherri had reluctantly bought a gauge to check her blood pressure daily. Knowing in her heart the doctor was right and secretly glad to have an official excuse to slow down, she took his advice.

She had two exams coming up and it would be nice to have a little more prep time. Her visits with Malik over the last couple of months had also been limited due to the time she needed to study. She couldn’t wait for that to change. Malik was about two years old when she first met Richard and he’d been part of every aspect of her life since then.

As she stared at the sugar cube she held before in a pair of tongs, contemplating whether she really needed a third dose of the sweet stuff, there was a buzzing in her purse. She withdrew her phone to see a strange number coming up. The area code was from out of town.

Better not be some creep trying to sell me Bitcoin, she thought. Then she recognized the code and tensed up. She knew where this person was calling from. It was a place she had avoided thinking about.

“Hello?” Cautious. Suspicious.

A nasal drawl on the other end identified itself as Bartholemew Scott and informed her that he was an attorney. God, she thought, Silas must have changed lawyers. The one he used for family court, Rowan Jacobson, was a much younger man than this one sounded. This guy’s raspy growl sounded like he’d been smoking for forty years.

Was this a good thing? Maybe it would mean they’d get the divorce over and done with faster than she’d expected. She could only hope.

But no. As soon as he was satisfied as to her identity, the man on the other end proceeded to drop a bombshell. “I regret to inform you that your husband’s aunt, Mrs. Grace Howitt, passed away two weeks ago—”

“What?” Sherri gasped, struggling to comprehend. “I… but she was fine when last we spoke, just a few weeks ago!” How could this be happening? Grace was strong and beautiful and always in control.

The lawyer’s voice was calm. “Mrs. Howitt wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted others to worry about her, so she kept her health situation to herself—”

“She was sick?” Sherri interrupted, horrified. “I had no idea. You’d never have thought it to look at her. She was hale and hearty, always filled with good humor.” Sherri rubbed her hand across her eyes, which had begun to sting. It was incomprehensible. She even remembered how Aunt Grace used to tell anyone who would listen that she enjoyed a glass of port with dinner every night for the past thirty years.

“It keeps the doctor away,” Aunt Grace used to declare, “and keeps every organ in your body just ticking over.” Then she would add with a wink, “I’m going to live to a hundred and two—see if I don’t!”

The man’s voice on the other end was professional, yet compassionate. “My condolences, Mrs. Howitt. I am deeply sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Sherri felt bereft by the news, which made her wonder about the emotional toll that Silas must now be under. He would have taken the older woman’s death hard. Grace had raised him and his brother as her own when their mother had abandoned them. As angry as she was with him, she still felt a pang of compassion for the pain he must now be in; it must be as awful as losing a mom.

Sherri had to remind herself that it was none of her business. Her marriage to Silas was history. She was sure his new girlfriend would offer him all the comfort he needed to feel better. That thought didn’t feel as good to her heart as it did in her head, and she choked down a sob. Stifling all the pain and heartache that came with the realization that she was no longer his wife.

Mr. Scott added, with a bit more kindness, “If it makes you feel better, Grace passed away peacefully and without pain.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Sherri murmured, but it was a lot to process. She let her hand fall to cover the ache which had suddenly bloomed in her heart and then let it trail down to her stomach.

The man hemmed and hawed discreetly, and then continued, more briskly now that the messy details were over with, “You’ve been named in Grace Howitt’s will and your presence is required to go over the details. The reading will be held at my office in Montrose.”

“Her will? Me?” She was nonplussed. Sherri wasn’t a blood relative, and besides…. A feeling of dread overcame her. Surely, Silas would be there; he was a relation, after all.

So if he was going to be there, she simply would be anywhere but. “I can’t. There’s no way—”

“I’m afraid that your presence was a stipulation within the will—”

“Well, whatever it was,” she said testily, “whatever she left me, I don’t want it. I decline.”

He explained patiently, “Ma’am, I’m afraid it isn’t that easy. The bequest does not just involve you. Your presence or lack thereof will affect everyone else mentioned in the will.”

Outrageous, Sherri thought. This was blackmail! “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Did this man have any idea what he was asking of her? Did he have the faintest clue what was at risk? She couldn’t do it. Facing Silas now meant moving up the plan she had in place to see him in the future. She wasn’t ready. Sherri wouldn’t.

Feeling a wave of queasiness coming on, Sherri sipped on her tea that had begun to cool. The peppermint did its job in reviving her somewhat, but her queasy stomach had begun blaming her for not asking for something with ginger in it.

Mr. Scott’s tinny voice drew her attention back to the phone. He was calling her name over and over, in a tone devoid of any emotion but with low-level impatience. “Mrs. Howitt? Are you there?”

Sherri ended the call and returned the phone to her purse. Out of sight, out of mind.

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