Fallen Elements (5 page)

“Hey, Andrew!” Carol interrupted. “Shut your
filthy mouth.”

“Fuck you, Carol.” Andrew stepped between his
sister and Ryan, scowling at his cousin. “I kissed her ass after
you left, and I get a lousy coin collection she was
forced
to leave me.”

“Drop it, Andrew.” Carol put her hand on her
brother’s shoulder.

Shrugging Carol’s hand off, Andrew took a
step closer to Ryan, who refused to concede an inch to the incensed
man. “I should have gotten mine.”

“If you don’t get out of my face, you’re
going to get yours right in the nuts, cuz.” Ryan’s tone was sharp,
her blue eyes piercing. She had dealt with this bully all of her
life, and she wasn’t about to lose this fight.

Andrew’s eyes widened, and he took a step
back. “Fucking dyke.” Turning, he quickly left the room.

Carol pulled Ryan into a hug. “I’m so
sorry.”

Ryan shook her head, and leaned back. “It’s
not even about me. He’s just an unhappy asshole.”

Carol laughed, and wiped an errant tear from
her cheek. “It’s true.”

“Carol.” Lucy stood in the doorway of the
library. “I need to speak with you.”

Rolling her eyes, Carol stepped away from
Ryan. “Don’t you dare leave without saying goodbye.”

Ryan grinned. “Promise.”

She couldn’t image two more different people
than Andrew and Carol, but Ryan felt fortunate to have Carol in her
life. She hoped they might see more of each other now the
awkwardness of trying to avoid her mother was no longer an
obstacle.

“Ms. Myers.” Michael Johannes stood behind
Ryan, a sealed manila envelope in his hand. “You’re mother left
instructions to give this to you separately, and while we were
alone.”

Ryan took the envelope from the man. “What is
it?”

“I don’t know for certain. She had me
inventory it as an antique book.” The man turned and began sliding
paperwork into his leather mailbag. “You will receive several
certified letters over the next few weeks. You will need to provide
wiring instructions, and/or authorize the numerous accounts to
remain as is with the necessary ownership changes.” The attorney
turned to face Ryan. “I would also recommend you get yourself a
good tax attorney.”

Ryan turned the envelope over in her hands.
It was heavy. “I’m sorry, what?”

The man smiled. “I don’t think you understand
what’s happened here today, Ms. Myers.” The man reached for Ryan’s
hand, his slim fingers encircling hers. “You’ve just inherited over
twenty million dollars, and that doesn’t include the five
properties. In total -” The man looked out of the corner of his
eye, clearly adding numbers up in his head. “Nearly fifty million
dollars.”

Ryan was, once again, rendered speechless.
She knew her family was wealthy, but it had always been considered
in poor taste to discuss actual numbers. That, and the fact she had
disassociated from the family before she would have had to know the
financial details, made the number the attorney now gave her all
the more surreal.

“I - I had no idea.” Ryan felt sick to her
stomach. She hadn’t wanted any of her mother’s money, and the
obligations and responsibilities that came with it. It would seem
though, in spite of Ryan’s best efforts, her mother had managed to
snare her anyway.

“I wouldn’t generally say this, but having
spoken with Karen on several occasions, and -” The man hesitated
before continuing. “And knowing a bit about you and she’s
situation, Karen had confided in me her hopes that you would put
the money to practical and philanthropic uses.”

Ryan’s eyes shot up to Mr. Johannes’ face.
“What?”

The man shrugged, and took a step toward the
door. “She said you were the most decent of the lot, and would make
something out of yourself.” The attorney left the room, and a
stunned Ryan.

Ryan’s knees buckled and she sat with a
plop
on the Queen Anne style chair. Her mother had always
been so critical of her. Even as a child, she was constantly being
reminded of the importance of appearance, manners, and breeding. In
return, and in spite of her best efforts, Ryan had always felt she
fell short in her mother’s expectations.

In the end, her mother had chosen to hold her
above the whirl and wrath. She recognized her not only as her
daughter, but as a person capable of something good and right. Ryan
knew, in that moment, she had no real idea what her mother had
endured, and they had treated each other badly. It was as much
because of Ryan’s ignorance of her mother’s life as it was her
mother’s willful disregard of Ryan’s.

Chapter 3

Ryan sighed heavily as she sank down into her
window seat on the Baltimore bound train. She looked around, half
expecting to see Leah. In spite of the absurdities of the past four
days, Ryan’s mind still wandered to the beautiful blonde, and her
connection to her family.

Looking down at her lap, Ryan turned the
large manila envelope over. Her name was scrawled across the front
in her mother’s meticulous script.
Now’s as good a time as
any.

Running her index finger under the fold of
the envelope, Ryan opened it and pulled a brown leather bound book
from inside. The book was worn along the spine, and a thin leather
band was wrapped around the center of the book to keep it
closed.

Arching her eyebrow in curiosity, Ryan turned
the book over. The smoothness of the leather and its weight made it
feel substantial in her hands. Her fingers trembled as she
struggled to untie the knot in the leather band, and she stopped,
flexing them several times before continuing.

It’s not the secrets of the universe, for
heaven’s sake. It’s probably family recipes. How to get the perfect
pie crust. That sort of crap.

Ryan took several breaths, and finally
managed to get the knot untied. Putting the band in the empty seat
next to her, she slowly opened the book’s cover. Looking at the
neat, tightly aligned script, Ryan realized it wasn’t a book at
all. It was a diary.

It brings to mind my own circumstance, and
fills me with dismay as I ought to think about my own unborn child,
and the fear that I should not survive its birth. Worse still,
should the child perish along with me, and poor Isaac be left
alone.

My only comfort in this is my midwife,
Margery. Though three years my junior at only seventeen, she seems
to me wise beyond those years. I confide to her my darkest thoughts
and fears, and she assures me they are baseless. My child, she
says, will be fine.

“
Your baby with be born without incident,
and you and your husband will make fine parents.” Margery promised
as she held my hand the night before last. We sat huddled near the
small fireplace in the main room of our home, and between the
warmth of the fire and Margery’s kind words, I did feel
better.

I overheard Isaac speaking with Goodman
Talis this morning. My husband did not realize I was walking from
the privy back to the house, otherwise, I cannot imagine he would
have been speaking of such things.

“
I have not the stocks to get the animals
through the winter.” Isaac’s voice was strained as I had never
heard before. “If you do not provide me the credit I need, the
animals – and in return my wife and unborn child – will not survive
the winter.”

My heart felt as if it might burst, and
there was a terrible souring in my stomach. My beloved Isaac is a
proud man, and though Goodman Talis was a dear friend and business
partner of Isaac’s father, his assistance comes at a high
price.

“
I said you need not worry, Remembrance!”
Isaac’s voice had risen above the howling wind as I confronted him
that evening about the state of our affairs.

“
But I do worry, husband – and how can you
tell me not to when I heard your pleading with Goodman Talis this
very afternoon?” My voice had broken and I felt as if I might faint
from the heat in my face.

“
What you heard was nothing more than a
bartering amongst business partners.” Isaac’s voice was softer,
kinder as he took my hand in his. “I would not lie to you,
wife.”

My eyes filled with tears, for I wanted so
very much to believe him, but my common sense did not allow me to
so easily push my concerns aside. I touched gently Isaac’s cheek,
his warmth and confidence providing me my only comfort.

I am reminded of our time together during
the passage from England. Though already eight years past, I can
still so clearly remember fear of the unknown as we made our way
across a vast ocean. Isaac had reassured me then, much as he does
now, that we would not perish.

Like his father, Isaac’s confidence in his
own abilities is what drew me to him. Though I am fifteen years
younger, he has always treated me with genuine respect and love. It
is something I do not take for granted as I see the women around me
struggle with dismissive, rude, and outright hostile husbands.

It is because of this history, and the love
I have for my husband, that I will trust his judgment as I have in
all things.

Margery arrived today, in spite of the
frigid conditions, with her mother. Goody Sebille was widowed three
winters ago when her husband fell overboard from his small boat
while fishing in Russell Pond. I remember hearing news of the
tragedy, and being perplexed as the day had been calm, and I seem
to recall Goodman Sebille being an excellent swimmer.

Alas, the mild currents pushed him to the
bottom of the pond, and it was late summer before he was found.
Bless Goody Sebille for she had witnessed her husband’s fall and
untimely death. I am loath to admit this, as the poor man met an
unseemly death, but he was rather the brute, and the town is better
for not having him around.

“
Goody Allerton, you are looking
wonderful!” Margery had been more formal than our relationship
warranted, and I assumed it was because her mother would not
approve of her referring to me by my Christian name as she works
for me.

Sadly though, the informality I enjoyed with
Margery was something I looked forward to, and though I didn’t
begrudge her the company of her mother, I felt my own enjoyment of
the visit would not hold up.

“
Goody Sebille, I have not seen you since
council a fortnight ago.” I greeted the older woman, who quickly
made her way to the fire to warm herself.

“
I have been ill, or did my daughter not
tell you?” The woman had looked at her daughter with such disdain,
I feared they might have words in front of me.

“
Of course she did, and I am glad you are
feeling better.” I took Margery’s wrap, a quick smile passed
between us as she was clearly grateful for my lie. “You are better,
yes?”

Nodding, Goody Sebille recounted her
illness, and then asked for mulled ale, indicating her stomach was
still prone to spasms. She then took a seat in the chair usually
reserved for Isaac.

“
My mother can be a burden, but she
refused to stay behind this morning.” Margery apologized as I
prepared the ale over the stove. “I told her she should not risk
the cold given her recent illness, but she can be
stubborn.”

“
I am happy for the company.” The truth
was Isaac had been otherwise occupied with the dealings of the
farm, and had spent the past two nights in the town to avoid the
nearly blizzard like conditions that had taken hold in the
area.

Though our servant William was a friendly
enough man, propriety dictated he and I maintain very little
contact outside the company of either my husband or another woman.
Though I respect the custom, and surely do not wish to put my
virtue into question, the days had been lonely.

“
Are you having some as well?” I asked
Margery while I poured her mother’s hot ale into a clay mug.
Margery had declined, but I had always enjoyed Isaac’s family’s ale
recipe. It was spicy and smelled of nutmeg when heated. I looked
forward to any opportunity to enjoy a mug.

I was happy to pass the late morning with
Margery and her mother, and it wasn’t until nearly noon that I
began to feel tired. Margery insisted I rest, and that she and her
mother needed to go. I was sad to lose the company, but grateful
for the rest.

“
When is your husband expected back?”
Goody Sebille had asked as she wrapped her heavy shawl over her
head and shoulders.

“
I expect him back tonight.” I handed
Margery her wrap, and dreaded opening the door as the cold from
outside was already seeping into the house and into me. Both mother
and daughter nodded, and Margery said her goodbyes quickly as her
mother hurried through the door.

It was the strangest thing as they left. The
snow was blowing in sheets across the fields like a fine dust, but
as I watched the two women make their way over the small drifts,
the snow seemed to lessen wherever their feet fell.