CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

BROOK

It broke my heart when Zac left. It hurt just as much as when I found out I’d lost my parents. I didn’t know how to tell him thoughtfully that I needed time to come to grips with all that’s happened. I hope he understood.

I go to my bedroom after Zac leaves and look through my closets, just in case. An old blanket of mine is bunched in the corner. I pick it up and hold it to my nose. I miss my parents.

I move to the window and look out into the backyard. That’s where I played as a child.

God, I miss my parents.

Feeling tired and terribly drained, I lie down on the floor in the fetal position. I bunch the blanket up under my head and within minutes, I’m asleep. The next morning, the sun blazes through my window. Time to get my life back in order.

I wish Zac were here.

But he’s not.

First thing I need to do is get some cash so I can buy food and clothes. I left everything I have back in New Orleans. Never thought I’d be staying. I’m sure Zac didn’t think I would be, either.

I go to the bank and the lawyer has taken care of most everything. Only a couple of papers to sign, which I do.

“Sorry to hear about your parents,” the bank manager says. “They were wonderful people.”

“Thank you.”

“If you need anything, we’re here to help.”

I thank him once again and withdraw some cash for shopping. I make a detour to Mr. Larson’s office before going to the store. I don’t have an appointment.

“Mr. Larson is on a call at the moment,” the secretary says. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll see if he can get you in.”

I sit down and the secretary gets up and peeks into Mr. Larson’s office. She holds a finger up to me and steps inside. Two minutes later, she comes back out and tells me to go in.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mr. Larson is standing behind his desk when I enter the room. “Miss Mathew. How may I help you?”

“First off, thank you for all you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome.” He points at a chair.

I sit down and fidget. I’m not sure how to say this. It’s hard.

“What do you need?” he asks politely.

I gather my thoughts.

“I’d like to proceed with selling the house. It’s not my home anymore.”

“I see.” He inches his chair forward and picks up a pen. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, I’m moving to New Orleans. That’s where I belong.”

“Oh.” He smiles. “With the young man that was with you?”

“Yes.”

“Very well then, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Larson.” I shake his hand.

“Make sure you reach out to my secretary when you get settled and give her your contact information.”

“I will.” I thank him again and skip from office.

I’m headed for New Orleans.