After the reading of the will, Sylvia went to the park where she and James used to take the kids she watched.
She sat down on the bench and stared at the envelope in her hands. She wanted to tear into it, read it, hopefully understand why he had given her everything.
But she also wanted to wait. This was the last conversation she would ever have with James, one-sided though it may be. She wanted it to last.
She took a deep breath and carefully ripped open the envelope along the top folded edge. She removed the letter and unfolded it.
Dear Sylvia,
You probably don’t understand why I made you my sole beneficiary. I’m not quite sure I understand myself. Only, one night I lay awake in bed thinking of all life as given me and taken away and suddenly I knew that my sons did not deserve to inherit my estate. They’ve had everything handed to them their whole lives. I don’t want to hand them their future forever. They would use it selfishly, as they have used everything ever given them in their life.
When I made this decision I knew that I had to re-write my will or else they would get everything. I was getting older all the time and it wasn’t something that could wait. I met with Busby late the following day. It was the day I had asked you what you would do if you won the lottery.
You told me that you would quit your job, finish school, and travel. I asked why you would finish school and you told me it was for two reasons. First because you never know when the money might run out and you wouldn’t want to be caught broke with no education. Second because you wanted to finish what you started.
I was impressed and I am no longer easily impressed. They were such wise words for someone so young.
Even going to Busby’s office that afternoon, I had intended on splitting my estate up and giving it to charities. But I sat down with Busby and I told him I didn’t want my sons to get my money and he asked who I was going to give it to then and I told him, Sylvia Rowland.
The moment I said your name, I knew it was the right thing to do.
I love you, Sylvia. If you had been my own daughter, I couldn’t have loved you more. I hope this helps.
James Cassidy
Sylvia folded the letter and slid it back into its envelope.
Children were screaming, running, and playing everywhere in the park. She hadn’t noticed until now. She wouldn’t be bringing the kids here anymore. She wouldn’t be the housekeeper/nanny for the Roberts family anymore. The summer semester at UBC was almost over and she could take a semester off to figure things out. Then she could go back full time. She had always wanted to go to school full time, but never had the money for tuition and bills. Vancouver was a very expensive city to live in.
But she didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
It suddenly hit her. She didn’t have to worry about money anymore. She could pay all her bills next month. She could buy a new winter jacket and boots this year. Her feet would stay dry this winter. She didn’t have to take transit anymore. Vancouver transit was pretty good, but her mother lived in Langley. Getting out there on weekends was very difficult and took about two hours by transit.
Everything was going to get easier from now on. For her and for her mother.
November 2011
They sat together in the drawing room of James Cassidy Jr.’s house on 3rd Ave. The room was large and bright. A chocolate brown leather sofa and chair were predominant in the room. Blue and white throw pillows decorated each end of the sofa as well as the chair. There was a luxurous white rug that covered the hard wood floor. They had had sex on the rug less than an hour ago and were now dressed again and sitting on the sofa. Though most of the Cassidy family lived in the large house, everyone else was not home.
He suddenly spoke. “We have to do something.”
“I know,” she replied, taking a hairbrush from her bag and brushing her tousled blonde hair. “But what can we do? We’ve already tried to get it back. The will is uncontestable.”
“There has to be another way to get the money. It’s ours. It’s rightfully ours. We waited for years to get that money. I had plans for mine.”
“So did everyone. Look at William. He has gambling debts and they’re about to be called in. Senior always paid them before. I doubt dear Sylvia is going to offer to do that.”
“Junior isn’t much better. He may not have debts, but he sure can get in a lot of trouble when he’s been drinking. Remember when he went to the Boulevard Casino with William and they got thrown out after James started a fight over a roulette game?”
“I remember.” She stood and paced to the window, looking out into the gloom of November rain. “I wanted to get away from here this winter. Winter in Vancouver is always so depressing. Why couldn’t we move to California?”
He got up to pour himself a glass of scotch. “We don’t have the money now. But I might have an idea of how we can get it.”
She turned to him. “What are you thinking?”
“Well, we can’t very well kill her, now can we? She may already have a will leaving everything to some charity or something. That would be like her. Giving it all away.”
“What is your idea?” she prompted. She knew how much he hated philanthropy. He thought that people only gave money to alleviate their consciences and that charities were no better than homeless people begging for money.
“We’ll have to get her to make sure we’re in the will before she dies.”
“And how do we do that? She doesn’t like any of us. She won’t speak to anyone in the Cassidy family without her lawyer, present. Busby is a tricky one. He knows us all too well. He’d know we’re up to something.”
“That’s why we won’t be the ones she gets to know. We’ll hire someone to get to know her. He’ll cozy up to her, pretend he likes her, and he will find out what kind of dirt she’s hiding. Everyone has something they don’t want known. Maybe we’ll get really lucky and it’ll be something illegal. Once we have the dirt, we’ll convince her that she should write us into the will and also pay us a million dollars to keep quiet. When we’re in the will, we’ll kill her and inherit everything. You and I can leave Vancouver together. We’ll go to California, or somewhere in Europe, where no one will ever find us. We can be together and we’ll have the whole fortune. We won’t have to share it with anyone else in the family.”
She stepped toward him as she thought it over. “It’s a good idea. She might not want to write us into the will. I don’t know if I can live on only a million dollars for long.” She continued walking closer and closer to him through the room until she was standing right in front of him. “It’ll be tricky.”
“But it’ll be worth it.” He grabbed her around the waist. “Worth every penny.” Then he lowered his head and claimed her mouth.
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