The asbestos trust did not want to pay out.
But my evidence was conclusive.
“They were found guilty on six counts of negligence and undue personal injury. The trust fund will pay out in three months.”
My jaw fell open. “A-are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
I flinched. I’d become rather sensitive to that word.
“Sorry.” He laughed. “But this is good news, Ren. Really good news.”
“How good?” I leaned forward.
When Rick suggested suing the asbestos manufacturer, I hadn’t held out hope. Pay outs ranged from nothing to mega bucks, but I’d never done this for the money.
It had been my only avenue of revenge—to hurt them in their pocket while they stole my life. In a way, I still didn’t feel right about it. I’d gotten sick while at Mclary’s. In my mind, I blamed him. It had been a struggle separating the two.
“Two and a half million good.” Rick grinned, clicking his pen like an addict.
“Wait. What?” My ears rang. “I must have heard you wrong.”
“You didn’t.”
“What did you say?” My skin slicked with cold sweat. “How much?”
“Two and a half million dollars. You’ve done what you wanted.”
My life slowed, saying no to death and thank you to all my wishes coming true.
I couldn’t believe it, even as the fears I’d always carried fell away.
Never again would we be destitute or homeless.
Della is safe.
“I’ve protected her,” I breathed, still in shock.
With or without me.
Della and Jacob would always be safe.
It didn’t make any of this easier, but the shackles of panic fell away.
I’d beaten the clock at its own game.
“You have.” Rick smiled. “In sickness and in health.”
“For richer and for poorer.” I met his eyes.
My hands shook as I curled them into fists.
Yet another small victory over death.
I smiled, grateful, vindicated, hopeful. “She and Jacob will want for nothing.”
* * * * *
2029
“Dad! Daaad!”
“In here, kiddo.” I tossed back a painkiller, chasing it with orange juice. Morning sunshine streamed into the kitchen, painting everything in summer softness.
Jacob appeared at breakneck speed, his cargo shorts full to the brim with Legos. His blond hair was shaggy and in need of a cut. His eyes mischievous and far too smart for his seven-year age. “I need your help building the tower on my castle.”
Reaching down, I grabbed him from the floor and plopped up onto the kitchen bench just as Della padded barefoot from the bedroom wing.
She caught my eye, smiling sexily.
I’d had her this morning. I’d had her on her stomach with my hand fisted in her hair. But that didn’t stop my body from reacting.
“Hi.” She kissed me, pouring herself a glass of juice before kissing Jacob. “Hey, Wild One.”
Jacob wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, kissing is for girls.”
“Oh, really?” Della attacked his face with kisses while I held him prisoner.
He squirmed and squealed while I laughed and Della blew raspberries on his neck. “Wrong, mister. Kisses are for little boys who I love.”
Wiping his face on my shirt, he stuck out his tongue. “Eww, you suck.” A smile twisted his lips, though, reminding me so much of Della that age. The defiance, the independence, the urge to grow up too fast.
God, I loved this family.
Scooting Jacob off the bench, I put him back on his feet. “I’ll come help you in a minute, okay? Just need to talk to Mom real quick.”
Jacob gave me a stern look. “You better. I’m timing you.” He took off, and I let loose the cough that had been tickling my chest, turning away from Della and clamping a hand over my mouth.
She rested her palm on my back, rubbing gently as I rode out the worst of it. Once I could breathe again, I turned to face her. “Had some news today.”
“More news like last year when you came home and told me we were millionaires?”
I chuckled. “No, not quite.”
The asbestos trust fund had paid out, depositing an unbelievable sum into our bank account. We’d paid off the mortgage, given some to John for the remaining balance of the land—which led to an explosive argument—and set up the rest into an account that would earn good interest while being a safety net for Della and Jacob.
My life insurance was just a cherry on top now, and the relief that gave me—to know they would always have a home—was indescribable.
“Our lawyer contacted us. The bank finally managed to sell the Mclary place.” Not once did I ever tie Della to those monsters. It was never her parents’ farm. It was purely a nightmare where we’d both lived for a time.
“Oh?” Her eyebrow rose. “What does that mean?”
“It means, after the debt was paid, there wasn’t much left. Fifty thousand, give or take.”
Della wrinkled her nose, looking all the more beautiful. “I don’t want it. I won’t take anything from them.”
Smoothing the tiny wrinkle by her eye, I kissed her softly.
At least I’d earned my final wish—I’d lived long enough to see age change her, just a little—a wrinkle that only appeared when she smiled or scowled.