He poured a cup of lukewarm liquid and handed it to me, the heavy brass ring on his hand catching the light of the halogen street lamp. “Thanks,” I said, holding the paper cup but not drinking. The smell of damp earth on his work boots was strong in the cold air. “I spoke to the bank,” Arthur said, his voice dropping to a quiet, urgent tone. “If something happens to Ben, the business accounts will be frozen during probate.” I stared at him, my head spinning with the doctor’s words. “We need to get his affairs in order before he slips away,” Arthur said, tapping the folded paper against his palm. Continue Reading → “What is that?” I asked. “A buyout agreement,” Arthur said. “He needs to sign over his shares to me immediately to avoid legal trouble for you.” I stared down at the gray parking lot gravel, realizing my wedding invitations were now completely meaningless. The office of Green Leaf Landscaping was quiet at ten in the morning, smelling of damp mud and stale coffee from the early crew. I stood in front of Ben’s desk, my hand resting on the smooth oak wood where his personal files were kept. I tried the handle of the top drawer, but the metal ring did not move. It was locked tight. “That drawer is off-limits for a while, Elena,” Arthur said from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, his boots leaving dry crusts of soil on the clean linoleum. He was holding a stack of white invoices, his heavy brass ring tapping against the hard plastic of his clipboard. “Where is the key, Arthur?” I asked, turning around to face him. “Ben always kept the spare in the ceramic cup on the shelf.” Continue Reading → “Must have misplaced it,” Arthur said, stepping into the room. “The bank asked us to keep things secured until we get the partnership sorted out. Don’t you worry about those files.” “I need to look up the payroll ledger from last month,” I said, my thumb twisting the plain silver band on my finger. “Ben asked me to check on the city contract expenses.” “I told you, I’ll handle the paperwork,” Arthur said. He set the invoices on his own desk with a loud thud, not looking at me. “Your place is at the hospital. Go on back to Saint Jude.” “The lock is brand new, Arthur,” I said, pointing to the shiny brass core. “The old one was silver.” “I had the locksmith come out Tuesday,” Arthur said, tapping his brass ring against the wood. “We had some security concerns. Some files went missing from the desk.” “Nothing goes missing from Ben’s desk,” I said, my voice quiet. “He keeps everything in perfect order.” “Well, things change,” Arthur said, his boisterous tone returning as he stepped closer. “We have a business to run, Elena. Ben isn’t here to do it, so I am.”
Just after we learned from the doctors that his remaining lifespan was estimated at only a couple of months, I married my childhood sweetheart right there in his hospital room—and as soon as our “I do” vows were completed, a nurse drew close and whispered, “Before you leave…
