Maybe Baby Lite (26 page)

“
Why would you be having
dinner with Beth?”

“
I wasn’t having
dinner
with
Beth,” he replied. “We all–everyone from the firm involved
with this case–broke for dinner. It looks to me like someone’s
imagination is running away again,” he teased.

“
Yeah, like when
someone
finds their own
clothes strewn around their own bedroom and believes another guy
has been there wearing them?” Trey frowned at my response. He
definitely did not appreciate the parallel I'd drawn.

“
It doesn’t matter, Trey.
I’m not staying here. I’m not going to be talked about, called a
Twinkie, profiled as a ‘whore.’ I have enough money in my trust for
my living expenses for this summer. I'll do just fine.”

I'd finished packing the
backpack. All I needed was my toothbrush, which was still in Trey’s
bathroom. I set my backpack on the floor, and then zipped my
suitcase shut. Suddenly, the stack of mail from my cottage slipped
out of the netting and landed on the bed. One envelope in
particular caught my eye; it was from Findley, Morris & Sneed
in Louisville, the law firm that handled my trust. It was
postmarked June 7th, nearly three weeks ago.

I glanced at Trey and
opened the envelope, unfolding the letter. I saw that the signature
line was signed by Andrew Sneed. There was a copy of a returned
disbursement check stamped “Insufficient Funds – Trust Closed.” The
check had been written to my college for fall registration fees for
classes. Andrew Sneed’s letter consisted of a couple of brief
sentences, basically requesting I contact him to set up an
appointment at my earliest convenience to discuss the matter of my
trust. His office, home, and cell numbers were provided in the
letter.

“
This can’t be possible,”
I said aloud, shakily.

“
What is it Tylar” Trey
asked, concerned.

I handed him the letter.
“Could you take a look at this for me? I’ll be right back; I need
to get my toothbrush from your bathroom.”

“
Of course,” he replied,
already distracted by the letter and looking at the returned check
from the bank. When I returned, Trey was folding the
letter.

“
Tylar,” he asked, “if you
don’t mind sharing this with me, do you know how much money was
left in your trust at the last accounting?”

“
It was a little over
$50,000,” I answered. “That's before I requested this disbursement
for my fall registration fees.”

“
Would you like me to
contact this Mr. Sneed on your behalf to see what I can find out?
It could save you a trip back there and I’d like to be sure that
he's on the up and up with this matter. Didn’t you tell me that
your mother worked for this firm?”

“
Yes,” I answered, already
fairly certain where he was going with this. “But she had no
ability to access my trust,” I explained. “That was clearly
stipulated in the terms.”

“
Do you have a copy of the
trust documentation?” he asked.

“
No, my mom would have
that, or the firm.”

“
Yes, I realize that,” he
stated, “I just wondered if you've ever been provided a
copy.”

“
Trey, the truth is I'd be
grateful for your help with this, that's if you have the time. I
know you still have this case you’re working on.”

“
It’s not a problem,
Tylar. I'll make some calls and request copies on your behalf.
You’ll need to sign a statement of representation. I have a form in
my briefcase; let me get one for you to sign.” He disappeared
momentarily so I went down the hall to Gina’s room, opening the
door.

“
Call your aunt, Gina, I’m
ready,” I said. She nodded.

Trey met me back in my
room with the form; I signed it.

“
There you go, Trey. I
really appreciate your help.”

“
No problem at all,” he
said, all smooth and silky.

“
You go ahead and keep the
letter with all of the contact information,” I said, handing him
back the envelope. “Just let me know what you find out when you get
a chance to contact the firm in Louisville, okay?”

“
Sure,” he said, puzzled,
“you aren’t still planning to leave are you?”

“
Nothing’s changed from 15
minutes ago,” I replied. My heart was broken, but it would
mend.

“
I want you here,” he
stated firmly.

“
I understand that, Trey,
though I'm not sure why. I mean what's in it for you? It's not like
we know each other all that well; hell, it's not like we're even
fuck-buddies. I don't really get you, I guess. Maybe it's the age
difference, or maybe it's cause you're rich and used to getting
what you want even though you're not sure why you want something. I
can't hang with that."

He was silent; his face
void of expression as if he really couldn't explain his need to
have me close either.

I grabbed my suitcase and
backpack, heading towards the door. Trey's arms stopped me, pulling
me against him.

Oh God! I need to stay
strong.

Gina’s timing was perfect.
She knocked on the door before coming in on her own. “Tylar, Aunt
Becky’s out front waiting.”

I pulled myself away from
Trey, grabbing my suitcase and heading to the door. He didn’t try
to stop me. Part of me was glad, part of me wasn’t. I couldn’t look
back. I knew that if I left, that was the end of us. Whatever "us"
was which was pretty fucked-up in itself being that neither Trey
nor I had a clue.

Gina met me in the hall,
studying my face as we descended the stairway.

“
Are you all right?” she
asked, concerned.

“
Not at the moment,” I
answered truthfully.

We got settled in at
Gina's aunt's house. The whole upstairs of the Cape Cod house was a
finished bedroom and bath. The room was huge with several beds.
Gina switched the television on for some distracting noise to break
the silence... She finally sat down on one of the twin beds and
looked at me.

“
Do you want to talk about
it, Tylar?”

I shook my head, “I’m not
sure what there is to talk about.”

“
Listen,” she said. “I’ve
got an idea that may take your mind off this bullshit, at least for
a couple of days, though we'll need Aunt Becky to clear
it.”

“
Shoot,” I
said.

“
We’re going to be done
with the stuff at the winery at end of shift Wednesday. Ian will be
coming with his pick-up truck to get the cases of wine we're taking
back to our club, Sanctuary,” she explained. “Why don’t you plan on
finishing out the week, and then getting a bus on Friday after your
shift to come to Atlanta and stay with us for a long weekend?
Monday is the Fourth of July and then just come back on the bus on
Tuesday. You'd only miss one day of work, how about it?”

I considered it for about
10 seconds. “As long as you can clear it with Becky, I’d love to,”
I replied. The change would do me good.

“
Fantastic!” Gina said.
“We'll have a great time. You'll love Ian, and Atlanta.”

“
I’m not getting my hopes
up until you clear it with Becky,” I reminded her.

“
Not to worry,” Gina
responded.

The next few days sped by
quickly. Gina and I returned to the winery on Monday to finish the
bottling, corking, and labeling on the last batch of wine. True to
Gina’s estimation, we were finished by close of business on
Wednesday. Ian was driving up from Atlanta. He should reach Bristol
late Wednesday night.

Things were coming
together. As promised, Gina had cleared it through Becky for me to
enjoy a long weekend with them in Atlanta. Gina had generously used
some of her frequent flier miles to buy me a flight. I had a
follow-up with my doctor on Tuesday and was cleared to work with no
restrictions; I could go back to the stables. I was ecstatic. Becky
said I could finish the week out taking inventory in the wine
cellar, and performing general cleanup and maintenance of the
equipment there as well. Another tank would not be fully fermented
for another few weeks.

Trey had returned to
Atlanta on Sunday to finish up the trial on the class action suit.
He'd called my cell several times, leaving messages for me. I
hadn’t returned any of them. I wasn’t sure if he had information
back from Andrew Sneed yet on the status of my trust. At this
point, I didn’t care. I was packing my stuff up in my suitcase when
Gina came bouncing up the steps.

“
Where do you think you’re
going?” she asked.

“
Gina, your husband is
coming here tonight. You guys need some time for yourselves. I’d be
in the way. Besides, I’m not going to impose on your aunt once
you’re gone. I’ve got to establish myself somewhere.”

“
Where are you
going?”

“
Back to my cottage,” I
replied.

“
Oh you can’t do that,
Tylar. I’ll really worry about you if you do that.”

“
Listen,” I replied,
“It'll just be for a couple of nights and then I’m off to Atlanta
for three whole nights. I'll be fine.”

“
Promise me you'll have
Clint keep an eye out on you? Maybe he could crash on the couch or
something?” She was really getting freaked out.

“
I'll let him know,
okay?”

“
Okay, I mean it.” She
pulled an envelope out of her purse, handing it to me. “Your
tickets,” she explained. “I'll be at the airport to pick you up.
Your whole itinerary is in there.”

“
Thanks Gina,” I said, my
eyes welling up as I hugged her.

“
Now don’t go getting all
mushy on me, girlfriend. That's so not east coast,” she complained,
wiping her eye.

Becky gave me a lift back
to the stables. From there, she helped me carry my stuff up to my
cottage. “You know you're welcome to stay on with me,
Tylar.”

“
Thanks Becky, I
appreciate that, but it's more practical for me to stay here near
the stables."

She looked away as if she
knew something she couldn’t share with me. I got everything
unpacked and put away. I cleaned out my fridge seeing that I'd
definitely need to get some groceries. I'd see if Clint would drive
me to town later. I plugged my cell phone into the charger as
someone knocked on my door. It was Clint, standing there
grinning.

“
Hey neighbor, are you
back to stay?”

“
Apparently so,” I
replied, feeling sheepish. I'm sure Jenna would spread the word
Trey had dumped his Twinkie. “Come on in,” I invited, holding the
screen door open. “I wanted to ask you a favor if you have a
minute.”

“
Sure thing,” Clint
replied, following me into the kitchen.

“
I just made some iced
tea, Clint, would you like some?”

“
Sounds great.”

I got our iced tea poured
handing him a glass.

“
So what’s up?” he asked
taking a drink of tea.

“
First off, would you mind
running me up to the grocery this evening?”

“
Not a
problem.”

“
Great, thanks. And well I
wouldn’t impose but I promised Gina that I'd ask if you'd mind
keeping your eye out for me over here? You know, with the strange
items and, now, notes that've mysteriously shown up and
all?”

“
You know I will,” Clint
answered. “Tell you what let me program my number into your phone,
okay? That way if you get spooked for any reason, just call me and
I’ll run over, how’s that?”

“
Thanks, Clint that makes
me feel a lot better.”

“
Is everything else
okay?”

He could tell that it
wasn’t. I just didn’t feel comfortable getting into the details
with anyone, at least not right now.

“
Everything will be fine.”
I responded.

He didn’t press me any
further. “You ready to go to the grocery now?” he asked.

I nodded.

“
Let’s go then, my truck
is parked down at the stables.”

As we walked down the path
to the stables, Clint filled me in on how things had been going
lately. He mentioned that some local intern had been filling in for
me part time, but that it looked as if the kid might go full-time
next week. I stopped in my tracks right then and there. Clint
walked a few paces more before he realized that I was no longer
walking beside him.

“
What do you mean, ‘the
kid is going full-time next week’? I’m cleared to come back
now.”

“
Hey,” Clint replied, “I
didn’t mean to upset you Tylar. I thought you knew all about
it.”

“
About what?” I
demanded.

“
About you not coming back
over to work with us.”

“
Who made that decision?”
I barked. It wasn’t Clint’s fault but I was livid.

“
Who do you think?” he
asked with a sidelong glance.

As if on cue, we saw a
black stretch limo winding up the long drive to the manor. Trey was
back. Clint and I jumped into his small pick-up truck and headed
down the drive.