Southern Sunshine by Natasha Madison
Chapter 6
Hazel
I pull open the glass door, and the cold air hits me right away. I make sure Sofia walks in before me. She slips her hand in mine as we walk in. "Good afternoon," the lady at the desk says with a smile. “How may I help you?" Her blond bob is as perfect as the makeup on her face.
"I’m here to see Mr. Devlyn,” I say. “I have an appointment with him at one o’clock."
Her eyes go from smiling to sad as she gets up from her desk and walks around with her arms outstretched. “I’m so sorry about your grandfather,” she says, taking me in her arms.
"Thank you,” I say softly as I let her hug me.
I spent the early part of the day cleaning the downstairs between the tears when I would find my grandfather’s things. The blanket in the chair in the living room next to the bed he would cover me with when I was younger. I sat in the same chair as he did and hugged the blanket to my chest. When my phone rang at nine o’clock this morning, I was in the middle of cleaning the bathroom. It was his lawyer calling to ask me to come in. I dreaded it, but I knew I had to do it. I also knew I had no choice. Not one fucking choice.
"I’ll tell Mr. Devlyn you are here." She releases me and turns to walk down the little hallway.
"Momma." I feel my hand being pulled down and look at Sofia. “Are you sad again?"
"Just a little, baby girl." I pull her to me, and my hand rubs her head.
"He’s ready for you," the lady says. “If you’d like, I can keep the little one busy." She looks at Sofia. “Would you like to come and make photocopies with me?" Sofia looks up at me for permission, and I just smile and nod. “It’s the first door," she tells me, taking Sofia’s hand and leading her to the other side.
Walking into the office, I see the big brown desk in the middle of the room with files piled high on each side. Mr. Devlyn looks up from where he sits at his desk, getting up and taking off his glasses. He walks around the desk, with a smile, in his slacks and button-down shirt with his cuffs rolled up. He smells like tobacco and spice, something that I haven’t smelled in over six years. I hold out my hand. “Mr. Devlyn."
He holds out his hand to shake, adding his other hand over mine. “You are just as beautiful as your grandfather said you were." I don’t say anything because a lump starts to form. I know that if I open my mouth, it’ll just be a sob coming out. "Please sit." He points at one of the two empty chairs that face his desk.
"Thank you,” I say, sitting in a chair. My stomach feels like a boat in a tropical storm.
"Before we begin," he starts, “I just want you to know how sorry I am for your loss." He grabs the manila folder and opens it. "Your grandfather had everything set up." He picks his glasses up to read the paper in front of him. “According to this, his last wish was to be cremated as soon as he passed.” I grab my purse and search for a tissue. “I want you to know that I tried to talk him out of it.” He shakes his head. “But he was a stubborn man.”
I give up searching for the tissue, and instead, I just use the back of my hand. “I’m sorry to do this,” I say. I put my trembling hand in my lap. “But I just have a couple of questions."
"Of course." He folds his hands in front of him. “Anything I can do to help."
"How long was he sick?" My voice trembles.
"Two years,” he says, and I gasp in shock. “I’m taking it that you didn’t have a clue."
"No." I shake my head. “Not one. We saw him six months ago. I noticed he looked weak and had lost weight, but he blamed it on getting the flu." Mr. Devlyn turns now and grabs a box of Kleenex behind him and offers me one. I grab two out of the box. “Was he alone when he passed away?" I ask the question that has haunted me since this nightmare happened.
"He wanted to do everything at home, but he got too bad to even care for him at home. He was in hospital care for the last couple of weeks,” he says, and again, I’m blown away.
"We talked on FaceTime every couple of days,” I say. “I mean, the last time was a week ago. But I didn’t …" I shake my head, the guilt running through me. How could I not have known? How did I not notice?
"He had a strict routine. No one would be allowed in his room when you would call,” he says. "I wish I had more answers for you as to why he did this, but at the end of the day, he always said that you didn’t need another thing on your plate." I close my eyes, and I don’t even try to stop the tears. The man who stood by my side when I found out I was pregnant. The man who didn’t judge me or look at me different when I told him who the father was. The man who didn’t force me to change my mind when I left his name off the birth certificate. The man who loved me so fucking unconditionally and didn’t want me to be burdened. “He said you had your life out there and didn’t need to come back here."
"He was one of a kind," I finally say with a little smile.
"He was,” he says and looks down at his paper. “Now for the nitty-gritty stuff."
I look at him, not sure I understand. “Obviously, he left you everything that he has." I nod at him. “But his finances …" He grabs a stack of envelopes all held together by a blue rubber band. My eyes focus on that stack of papers. “His finances were not great."
"What do you mean?" I ask, confused. My grandfather always made sure everything was paid in full. It was his Southern pride that he was never late with anything. He would starve before he was late paying a bill.
"The farm had been declining in the past couple of years,” he says. “He had trouble keeping up with the repairs." He takes a deep breath. “And then add the medical bills that came with him being sick."
"What are you saying?" I ask, my heart beating so fast now it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.
"The house was going into foreclosure,” he says. “It’s obviously been stalled now since he passed away. They will give you the appropriate thirty days to make sure you put his affairs in order."
"Foreclosure,” I say, not sure I heard him right over the pounding of my heart. I don’t listen to the rest of what he says. When he turns and gets up, he walks around his desk and hands me the stack of envelopes.
"I will be with you every single step of the way,” he says. “If you have any questions or concerns, all you have to do is call me."
I get up now, my legs a little shaky. “Thank you,” I say, holding the stack of bills that now feel like they weigh a ton. "I’ll let you know if I have any questions."
He walks me out, and I spot Sofia, who jumps up from the floor where she’s coloring with crayons to come over to me. She stops and then turns back, going to grab the paper. “I made you a picture, Momma." She hands me the picture, and I look down at it. “It’s me, you, and Pops,” she says. I bend to pick her up in my arms.
"It’s beautiful,” I say as I turn and nod at Mr. Devlyn and his secretary, fighting back more tears. When I leave the office, the heat of the sun hits me right away. “Did you have fun?" I ask as I walk with her in my arms.
"I made photocopies of top secret work," she tells me. “Then she gave me crayons."
We stop at the grocery store before heading back home. I pick up enough food so I don’t have to go out again for the next couple of days. I’m going to wait until tomorrow to tackle all these bills. Even if I wanted to do it now, my head is all over the place.
Sofia helps me carry in the groceries and stays by my side as I put away the food. It’s like she knows I need her. I’m grabbing things to make dinner when there is a soft knock on the door. I look over at the door, but my feet stick on the floor like glue.
The knock comes again, and I look over at Sofia, who looks at me and then the door. I grab the rag and walk to the door. My hands shake as I unlock the door and open it just a touch. My body goes tense when I see who is standing there.
"Is that Hazel?" I hear Charlotte say, and then I’m pushed aside as Sofia sticks her face in the little opening. Charlotte gasps, and I open the door fully. She stands there holding two bags in her hands with Billy right beside her. My eyes tear up when I see him.
"Sorry," I say, trying to act as calm and cool as I can, while on the inside, I’m slightly freaking the fuck out. "Please come in,” I say, moving aside and waiting for them to come in.
"We won’t keep you, dear," Charlotte says, and I just smile at her.
"We heard about Kaine," Billy starts to say, and I can see the tears in his eyes. “Toughest son of a bitch I knew." Charlotte goes over to him and smiles at him. “Except for when it came to you two,” he says.
"Thank you,” I say and feel an arm around my leg. “Sofia,” I say to her. “This is Pops’ friend."
"Do you have a tractor, too?" she asks, making everyone laugh.
Billy squats down in front of her. “I do have a tractor," he says, and she smiles at him and looks up at me. “And I also have horses." Her mouth opens. “If you convince your momma to bring you over, I’ll let you ride one." I don’t say anything, and I thank God that neither does Sofia.
"We brought you some stuff to eat," Charlotte says, handing me the brown bags.
"You didn’t have to,” I say, looking at the brown bags and knowing they’re filled to the brim with food. "Thank you."
"It’s the least we could do," Billy says, and Charlotte just looks at him and crosses her arms over her chest. I laugh at her. “He used to come and see us," Billy starts. “Every single time he got a new picture of Sofia or when you sent him something of her, he couldn’t wait to show it off." I roll my lips now as he looks at Sofia.
"We should go," Charlotte says. She comes over and takes me in her arms. “If you need anything, dear,” she says, “you don’t be shy."
"Thank you,” I say. Billy comes to me, and when he hugs me, I close my eyes. The tears run down my face and soak into his shirt.
"You need us,” he says, “you call."
He turns and waits for Charlotte to walk out before heading out the door. "Wait,” I say, stepping forward. He turns now to look at me. “I have a couple of things to look through, but I was wondering if maybe you were looking to buy more property." He looks at me. “From what I was told, it’s not going to be long before the bank takes it over. I know he would want you to have it."
"I’ll have Casey come over with me on Monday,” he says. “We’ll figure it all out."
I just nod at him, and he turns and walks out of the house, closing the door softly behind him. Only then do I let go of the breath I was holding.