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Authors: Richard Paul Evans

Tags: #Adult, #Inspirational

Miles to Go (19 page)

BOOK: Miles to Go
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“Everything’s been set up with the mortuary. He didn’t want a funeral service. He told me no one would come, so the mortuary will just bury him.”

“That doesn’t seem right,” Nicole said. “Could we at least have a little graveside service?”

“You just work it out with the mortuary,” Snarr said. “He’s over at Larkin Mortuary. And let me know if you decide to go ahead with it—I’ll be there.”

Bill was buried two days later in a plot next to his wife. The mortuary had cleared the snow from the grave, and the casket lay aboveground for our makeshift ceremony. Nicole asked if I would say something, but I declined. McKale’s funeral was still too close to me.

There were only four of us that day; Nicole, Christine, Snarr, and me. We gathered in the frozen landscape around the grave, our breath freezing in front of us. Nicole had bought a Christmas wreath, which she laid on top of the casket.

Nicole said, “I just want to say how grateful I am that I got to know Bill. I’m certain that I gained more from our friendship than he did. I’ll never forget his love and loyalty for his wife. And I’m glad that he and his sweetheart will be reunited.”

Nicole then asked if any of us wanted to say anything. At first I shook my head, but then I said, “I really liked Bill. He had a good heart.” Then I felt stupid, thinking,
If he had a
good
heart he’d still be alive
.

Christine said: “Bill was always very good to me. He told me that he was worried that I might slip on the ice, so
he put down a little extra rock salt on the walk for me. It may seem like just a small thing, but it made me feel good. I’m glad I got to spend Thanksgiving with him.”

Snarr said, “He was an honorable man.”

That was it. On the way home Nicole said, “I wonder if I’ll have to move.”

“Why would you have to move?” I asked.

“New owners.”

“I wouldn’t start packing,” I said. “I’m sure it will take a while before anything happens. Besides, the house has been divided for apartments. Whoever gets it is going to need tenants.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said. “I don’t want to move.”

Three days later I was doing my aerobics in the living room when someone knocked at the door. It was the attorney, Snarr.

“Is Nicole here?” he asked, standing in the building’s lobby.

“She’s at work.”

“I need to speak with her about Mr. Dodd’s estate. Do you know when she’ll be home?”

“She’s usually home by five-thirty.”

“Would it be a problem if I came back tonight for a few minutes?”

“No, that should be fine.”

“Very well then. I’ll see you this evening.”

Nicole arrived home on time. I told her about Larry Snarr’s visit as she walked in the door.

“Did he say what he wanted?” she asked.

“He said he needs to talk to you about Bill’s estate.”

“He’s going to kick us out,” she said flatly. “Or raise the
rent. I don’t know where I’m going to find another place at this cost.”

“Wait to worry,” I said. “Wait to worry.”

A couple minutes after six, Snarr pulled up to the house in an older-style Mercedes-Benz. He was wearing a wool overcoat and scarf, and carried a leather briefcase. He walked up the stairway and I met him in the building’s lobby. “Come in.”

Nicole met him at the apartment door and motioned to the couch. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Snarr and I sat on opposite ends of the couch while Nicole sat in an armchair facing us.

“What is this about?” Nicole asked anxiously.

“I am the executor of William Dodd’s will.”

“Is Nicole in his will?” I asked.

“Actually, Nicole is Mr. Dodd’s sole beneficiary.” He turned to her. “Bill left everything to you.”

“What?” Nicole said.

Snarr opened his briefcase and brought out a dossier. “These documents specifically outline the whole of Mr. Dodd’s estate. They include trust funds, life insurance policies, a few mutual funds, and several rental properties, including this property right here. The entire estate is valued at about $3.6 million.”

Nicole gasped.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“No sir.”

“But why me?” Nicole asked.

“Actually, the change was made only two weeks ago. He did leave a letter for you, perhaps it might explain
things.” He pulled several documents from the stack he held. “I’ll need a few signatures from you, and, as outlined in the will, I’ll be deducting my fees from the estate prior to disbursing funds.” He handed her several papers. “I’ve marked where you need to sign.”

She signed the documents and handed them back. Snarr put them in his briefcase, then handed her a tan envelope. “Here’s the letter Mr. Dodd left for you.”

“Thank you,” Nicole said.

Snarr stood, lifting his briefcase. “You’re very welcome.” He handed Nicole a business card. “If you have any questions, please feel free to call at any time.”

Nicole walked him to the door. “Thanks for coming by.”

“My pleasure,” he said.

She shut the door behind him and then turned back and opened the envelope. Inside was a note penned in shaky handwriting.

Dear Angel,

I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. It’s certainly applicable. If you’re reading this, then be happy for me, as I’m finally with my family again.

The last two years have been difficult for me. Ever since I lost my sweetheart, I lay alone in my cold bed at night listening to the infirmities of my age and hoping for it to catch up to me. The worst infirmity of all has been the loneliness. As you know, June passed several years ago. Our only son, Eric, died nearly twenty years ago. My two brothers and my sister have also died, as have most of my friends. I have no one. Or, I
had
no one, until this last Thanksgiving when you reached out to me. It
may seem a small thing
, inviting an old man to join you at the table, but, for me, it was everything. I woke the next day happy for the first time in years. But you didn’t end there. You included me in all of your activities. Even with that young man you room with, you brought me along. You made me feel alive again. You were my friend.

I hope you will accept my gift as a token of my friendship. I honestly can’t think of anyone more deserving. If you wish, I would hope that you would extend to Christine free rent until she graduates from school. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You have made an old man smile again.

God bless,

Bill

CHAPTER
Thirty-four

Forgiveness is the key to the heart’s shackles.

Alan Christoffersen’s diary

Not surprisingly, Nicole was a little overwhelmed by it all.

“I don’t know anything about trusts or real estate. How am I going to handle all this?” she asked. “Will you help me?”

I almost laughed. “That would be the blind leading the blind. But I do know just the man who can.”

“Who?”

“My father. The man knows how to handle money.”

“That would be perfect,” she said.

My father was the only number programmed into the cell phone he gave me, something he’d done himself. I called him and told him about Nicole’s windfall. He was pleased and glad to be asked to help.

“I love it when good things happen to good people,” he said.

Nicole went into work the next day and gave her twoweeks’ notice. A few days later I accompanied her up to Gonzaga’s enrollment office as she enrolled in school and registered for the Spring semester. She was finally going to complete her film studies major with a minor in American literature. She also began writing a new screenplay, one that I think has promise.

“It’s the story of a young police dispatcher,” she said, “who gets involved in the life of someone she meets through a crime.”

I thought she’d probably start looking for a bigger home, but she didn’t. “I don’t want too many changes in my life right now,” Nicole said. “Baby steps.”

“Sounds like something my father would say.”

“Actually, he did,” she replied.

The next three months were filled with so many remarkable
changes that the time passed quickly. Nicole was truly a new person, or, more accurately, herself again. She loved going back to school, and she and Christine began carpooling, leaving me with a car during the day, so I got out more and spent several days each week at the Spokane library.

In mid-January, Nicole called her sister, Karen. Karen was relieved to hear from her and apologized for not being there to support her through her accident and Aiden’s funeral. “I was just in such a crazy state of mind,” Karen said. “But there’s no excuse for me not being there for you. I hope you can someday forgive me.”

“I forgive you now,” Nicole said.

Those four words had a miraculous effect on both women. They made plans to get together that summer and vacation at Bullman Beach for old times’ sake.

While I waited for better weather, I stepped up my physical training. I walked twice a day or swam at the community center when the weather was inclement.

I had gone through my road atlas so many times I could recite the towns and cities I would pass through on my way to South Dakota.

My muscle mass had returned and the pain I had overcome was just a bad memory. I was getting antsy to leave, and it seemed that with each new day I felt more acutely my own path calling me.

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