Take A Chance With Me (With Me in Seattle 18)

“That’s his writing,” I mutter and pick up the envelope, setting it aside. The only other thing inside is a black velvet box, likely from a jewelry store.

“Read that first,” Cam suggests.

I pull a letter out of the envelope and begin to read aloud.

Maggie,

If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m dead, and you’ve found the account and box down here in the islands. I wonder how long it took you to find it? I think I hid it all pretty cleverly.

I’m not going to tell you where all the money came from because I don’t want you to ever be held responsible as an accessory. I’ll just say that it can’t be traced, and now it’s yours. You probably found other money in other places, but that was for Constance and Heather. I didn’t think I’d ever be a father, but I am, and I have to provide for her.

Of course, there were other women. Too many to name here. Am I sorry for that? No, not really. I’m sure it hurt you, but I have needs that you couldn’t deal with. Not your fault, just the way it is. Don’t be too hard on yourself for it.

I roll my eyes and glance up at Cam, who looks like he wants to commit murder, then I keep reading.

I’m pretty sure that everything I’ve done will catch up with me and kill me. Whether it’s because of the women and their husbands or other reasons. I won’t live to be an old man. I can’t leave this for you in a conventional account. It would be seized. This way, it can’t be.

Also, the other little present in here, well, don’t worry. It’s not stolen. I bought it, fair and square. Just another way to hide money. It’s worth about a hundred grand. Do whatever you want with it.

I know that I was a shitty husband, and you should have had better at the end of the day. But from the minute I saw you in Algebra, junior year, I wanted you for myself. And I have you. I don’t know if I love you, honestly. You can be such a royal pain in my ass, and you complain constantly, but you’re beautiful, and that’s all that really matters. Oh, and if I am dead, go ahead and tell your brothers to fuck right off. I hate those assholes.

Take the money and do what you want with it. It’s yours. And, yeah, I’m a shit, but I do hope you have a great life, Mags. Better than what you had with me.

J.

Cam takes the letter from my hands, skims it, then folds it and puts it back in the envelope.

“He was a prick,” he says at last.

“Yeah, I don’t feel so bad anymore.” I blink, surprised by how light I feel. “Okay, let’s see what this is.”

The box is hefty, and when I push the lid open, diamonds shine in the sunlight.

“Holy shit.”

Cam looks over my shoulder. “There have to be a hundred karats here.”

The necklace looks like it should be on the neck of royalty. It glitters and shines when I move it from side to side.

“What in the hell am I going to do with it?”

“You don’t have to decide today. Or any other day. Put it away, and deal with it later.”

I nod thoughtfully. “You’re right, there’s no rush. Although, I’ll never wear it. It’s…gaudy.”

I close the box and then stare over at Cam.

“It’s over.”

He nods slowly. “Was it worse than you thought?”

“No.” I ponder the question and reach for an apple from the bowl of fruit on the table. I’m suddenly starving. “Not harder. But not easy, either. About what I expected, actually.”

“And now that it’s over, how do you feel?”

“Lighter.” I take a bite of the apple. “A lot lighter, actually. You know what’s funny? That letter didn’t hurt my feelings.”

His eyebrow goes up, and he starts to protest, but I keep talking.

“I’m serious. He said so much worse to me when he was alive. I didn’t really expect much more from him. I knew he didn’t love me. You don’t treat people you love like that. And I wanted to love him. But I didn’t. Hell, I laughed at his funeral.”

“I think that probably happened out of shock,” he says kindly.

“Okay, so it took one of his mistresses yelling at me to make me laugh, but still. So, no, this didn’t hurt me. And, frankly, it sounds like he’s trying to be sweet in the letter. He was just such a complete, selfish asshole that this was as good as it got with him.”

“I suspect you’re right,” he says. “Please tell me you don’t feel weird about the money anymore.”

“I don’t.” I blink, surprised at my quick response. “I really don’t. He didn’t tell me who he stole it from, so I can’t return it. And now I can get my hot water heater fixed.”