thought things couldn’t possibly get bleaker, she took a job in a fast food restaurant. She thought of it as a placeholder until she found a real job. Her boss was nineteen years old. She did everything she was told to do, putting great effort into it. They’d given her an evening shift because she was mature and the restaurant was overrun with high school and college kids. But she had trouble keeping up. She took home a paycheck for five days of shift work at about five hours a day in the amount of $91.75—they deducted FICA, Social Security, state and federal taxes, uniform costs. Her net pay was $3.67 per hour. Her feet and back were killing her.
She wondered if she’d have to succumb to a disguise and create a new identity.
* * *
Emma answered her cell phone knowing it would be Lyle, but praying it would be someone with an offer of a better job. It was Lyle.
“Do you know a man by the name of Aaron Justice?”
She laughed. “Unforgettable. A friend of my father’s. An attorney. He must be a hundred years old by now.”
“More like seventy-five. Apparently one of your sisters said you could be reached through me and he’d love to hear from you. He said maybe you could meet for a coffee or something. He’s been concerned about you. He would like to see you, to assure himself you’re okay.”
“Now, isn’t that sweet,” she said. “It’s not a trap, is it? He’s not representing someone Richard screwed, is he?”
“Does that actually happen?” Lyle asked.
“It hasn’t happened yet, but I’m ready for it.”
“I have his number,” Lyle said. “Call him, ask him what he wants before you make a date to see him. But really, he’s just a little old man.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she said with a laugh. “Aaron is only a little old man on the outside. I think in his day he was a very prominent attorney.”
It took her a few minutes to work up her courage because it would simply break her heart if Aaron Justice were foe, not friend. Her father, a CPA with a small but busy business, was close to Aaron, and Emma had known him all her life. Not only had they seen him and his family socially, Aaron was the lawyer who took care of John Shay’s will and a few other legal matters, too.
“I want only to see you, my dear girl,” Aaron said. “I’ve followed your ordeal in the news and have been concerned. Come and have a cup of coffee with me.”
The very next afternoon that she didn’t have to work they met in a coffee shop in Santa Rosa, and when she saw him, it brought her to tears. He seemed to have gotten smaller, but his embrace was still strong and she might have held on too tight. He was a very dapper, classy gentleman and of course just seeing him again after eighteen years made her miss her father.
They sat in a small booth, ordered coffee and held hands across the table as they caught up on the more personal news. His wife had passed away a few years earlier, his grandsons were teenagers and he’d taken them on a few exciting trips. He was relieved to see her looking so well, as beautiful as ever and he was glad she was back. Finally, after about twenty minutes, he asked her if she could talk about it.
She tried to give him the bullet points; how shocked she was by the facts, stunned to learn she was married to a stranger, how the walls came tumbling down and Richard bailed out. “Once they were satisfied that I had nothing to do with the scheme, I was offered a settlement. My conscience wouldn’t let me take it, of course.”
“Your father would have been proud of that,” Aaron said.
“If my father had witnessed that horrific takedown, he would have been mortified.”
“He was a staunch and conservative man,” Aaron said. “It sounds as if he would have approved of the way you chose to handle it. I hope your father’s trust helped out a bit.”
She laughed. “What trust, Aaron? Rosemary said there wasn’t much.”
“I seem to remember it being a tidy sum for his family.”
“Eighteen years ago, maybe,” Emma said.
He frowned. “I realize you were only a girl and John hadn’t wanted the balances to be reported to anyone—it might’ve filled the three of you girls with fanciful notions, sent you out car shopping or something. But it was divided—your share and those of your sisters could only be used for health and welfare. Rosemary would have needed it to sustain the family, and there was tuition to pay, of course...”
Emma was shaking her head. “I borrowed and had a partial scholarship. She might’ve used it for education for Lauren and Anna.”
“Didn’t Rosemary give you money for college?”
“She sent me spending money from time to time. Maybe she was afraid to touch the money, saving it for her old age. She ended up marrying a real jerk. They moved to Palm Springs.”
“Rosemary changed lawyers immediately,” Aaron said. “I have no idea what’s happened in the last eighteen years, but you were due to inherit from your father’s estate—half at the age of thirty and half at thirty-five. It was important to John that you learn to make your own way and earn a living before you came into any money or you’d have blown it on shoes or something.”
She smiled. “That sounds like him,” she said. “He was so cautious.”
“It was an irrevocable trust, Emma. As trustee, Rosemary could only use your portion on your needs, not on Anna’s or Lauren’s. Have you ever had an accounting done?” Aaron asked.
“Of what?”
“Of your father’s estate. The terms of his will.”
“Aaron, I was married to one of the richest men in New York. Why would I worry about my father’s will? He had a small office in a small town and lectured me if I threw a pen out before it was writing in invisible ink! I wouldn’t call him a tightwad, but he didn’t let go of a dime before he’d squeezed all the juice out of it.”
Aaron laughed. “It’s true. And he married a woman who liked nice things...”
“Well, she didn’t waste any money on me. After my first year of college I admitted defeat with Rosemary and hardly ever came home to visit. And you know what happened when I struck out on my own. I fell in love with and married a thief.”
“May I make a suggestion? You should ask for an accounting of your father’s estate. There’s still the house. It’s a substantial house.”
“She said the mortgage alone was killing her,” Emma pointed out.
“Emma, the house was insured against your father’s death. There was no mortgage. I still have a small practice, mostly just for old clients and friends. If I were your attorney, I could look into this.”
She started to laugh. “Oh, Aaron, you are so sweet. I can’t afford an attorney! I’m working at a fast food restaurant! Besides, if there turned out to be something left of his estate after all these years, would I have to fight for it? Because I can’t even consider going to court. Not ever again.”
“Here’s what
