Nestled on Lake Superior in northern Wisconsin is a small, secluded town called Bloodmoon Cove with volatile weather, suspicious folk…and newly awakened ghosts.

Don’t close your eyes…

 

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…

         

Just out of college, Belladonna Mateo has invested with her two childhood best friends–Ori Williams and Marsh Crichton–in opening a boutique in Madison, Wisconsin that specializes in their combined, unique talents. When her mother dies, suddenly Bella’s share of the investment dwindles to nothing, and all their plans seem in jeopardy. That is, until Bella learns she’s inherited an old ruin of a house in Bloodmoon Cove. Without the financial means to otherwise go forward with their career plans, the house seems like a boon. While the town is little more than a speck on the map in Erie County, the northern Wisconsin location has some business potential considering there’s nothing like what they’ll be offering for an hour in any direction. The house is certainly big enough to provide not only the workshop and retail space they require, but also living space for all three of them, including Bella’s younger half-brother when he visits.

 

Bella and Marsh travel to Bloodmoon Cove to get things set up, finding only minor renovation is needed despite that the imposing tower was damaged in a lightning storm more than 50 years ago and there may be toxic mold in the attic. Bella and Marsh joke about the house being haunted because of weird disturbances, but Bella can’t shake that one ghost in particular is trying desperately to communicate with her. Her great grandfather was an illegal alien who left Cuba to escape a suicidally unhappy girl with just one solace in her life…

 

 

(ebooks are available from all sites, and print is available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble and some from Angus and Robertson)

 

Continue the series:

     

 

 

Part I: Physiognomist’s Praedictio

(Latin: “physiognomist”: one who foretells destiny;

“praedictio”: foretelling)

 

 

“‘Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be, only? … Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead…'” ~”A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens

Prologue

George

 

Thursday, January 29th

 

Within the dream–not slumber’s reverie, not the sacred vision of a medicine man, not reality–a heartbeat filled George Maulson’s ears until he could hear nothing else. The throb was so fierce in his chest, he closed his eyes in pain. When he opened them again, nothing but darkness remained. His entire body spasmed. This time his eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed against the cramp turning him inside out.

Where am I? But that wasn’t the path to wisdom. No, the better question was, Who am I?

No longer was he the leader of his people, the Mino-Miskwi Nation. No longer was he a protector of those few left, as well as a defender to the town of Bloodmoon Cove, Erie County.

A soft voice spoke in his ear. “In this place, you are nothing more and nothing less than the foreteller of destiny, Atohi.”

George’s eyes flew open at the sound of his true name, and he found himself fully within the vision.

Blackened mass contracts, pulsing strongly…wetly… Heaving…

The hand of the offspring now free…reaching weakly, grasps wildly now for any hold, any purchase. Another hand loosed…

Nails on both hands dig into slimy flesh imprisoning it…

Pull…hard…

A splash…

The head emerges with thick, matted hair, clumped with slime and filth that cover the sickly white face. Gasping, agonized without oxygen, the offspring suffocating as it’s birthed…

The mass flexes once more, violent now, eager to expel, convulses, hurling the form out of its mouth. A gush of afterbirth vomit spills over the insensible creature that lay unmoving on the floor below. With release…shock, horror, screaming…

“Here…” George whispered hoarsely, wanting to howl the words but unable to find the strength. “She’s here.”

As though knifing through the fleshy membrane of darkness, he sat straight up. Huddling into a ball, he shivered against a cold like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He was little more than a naked newborn greeting the chilly, bright world for the first time. The abrupt change from the warmth and tender care of the womb was a violation like no other. A wail ripped out of his throat…

“What?! What is it?” Beside him, Chenoa woke and gasped at the sound of his unmuted abhorrence.

George fell back, icy sweat covering him, as the names, “Bella, Marsh…” tumbled insensibly from his dry lips.

“You had a nightmare,” Chenoa murmured, stroking his face with gentle fingers. “It’s okay.”

The next morning, before they parted ways, she asked him, “When you woke screaming last night, you said ‘Bella, Marsh.’ Who is that? We don’t know anyone by those names.”

George shook his head, his mind a complete blank–even on having had a nightmare. He didn’t remember sleeping, period, the night before. What he did recall was being unsettled to the core of his being, for a reason he couldn’t understand.

Chenoa looked at him with concern he didn’t need or want, even from the one he loved best. He shrugged, grunting, “No idea.”

---

Part II: Erogo

(Latin: disburse; bequeath)

 

“What is freedom, in the end, but that no one cares any longer to try to restrain us?”  ~Naomi Alderman

Chapter 1

Bella

 

Seven months later…

Saturday, August 29th

 

“Come to the house on Saturday, Bella. Lunch? We need to talk,” Antonia had said following the light luncheon served after Belladonna Mateo’s mother’s funeral.

Antonia Delfin had become a fixture in Bella’s life, and also one in her half-brother Lucas’s, while they were growing up. Following the death of Bella’s dad when she was only five and then, only a handful of years later, Lucas’s father’s death, Bella and Lucas’s mom Maria’s never good health had quickly deteriorated. Maria’s best friend throughout her life, Antonia, who’d already been a widow herself, had taken her in and become a caretaker to both Maria and young Lucas. Six years older than her sibling, independent Bella had officially started working in a nearby bakery at the age of 14. What would they have done without Antonia?

As the days slipped past and her mind refused to rest concerning Maria’s final lucid moments, Bella was well aware that her mother had been keeping things from her for years. Bella had wondered if she’d unconsciously projected an unwillingness to hear, the way her brother had often as a child. Did Mom sense that? Or did she have more to hide than she disclosed even in her last, fleeting hours?

Once her mom went on dialysis four years ago, they’d known her kidney disease was advancing quickly and, while the frequent procedure would improve the quality of her life, she would also be living on borrowed time. A few weeks ago, Bella had gotten the shock of her life. She’d unceremoniously become aware when her mother’s doctor initially gave them an estimate for her projected life expectancy, she must have only heard the longest prediction. Ten years. I thought I had so much more time. But Mom didn’t even make it to the lowest guess of five years’ survival.

Bella would probably never forget getting the text from her mom not even two weeks ago, asking her to drop by after work and to collect Lucas on her way. While that wasn’t an unusual request, something about it had given Bella pause. She’d gotten busy, though, as the bakery always did early every morning with a line going out the door and down a few blocks. Once she’d picked Lucas up after her shift, he’d shrugged, saying he didn’t know why their mother wanted to see them. The disquiet claimed her on the drive, though she’d initially tried to keep up a normal conversation with her brother. He’d been uncommunicative as well, and he’d later said he also felt like something was wrong.

Their mother had been waiting just inside Antonia’s usually neat living room, her expression as grave as her best friend’s. For the first time, the order had been disrupted–with the ugly presence of a portable hospital bed.

Bella couldn’t have said later if she was grateful their mom had never been the type to beat around the bush. She explained almost calmly, though her pale, anguished face gave her away, that she’d been unable to receive the regular dialysis she’d been having several times a week because her blood pressure was far too low. Both Bella and Lucas had started firing off questions Maria had quickly quashed with the words, “There’s nothing more that can be done.” When a new slew of inquiries was instantly issued concerning alternatives, she’d met those with, “Nothing that will significantly prolong my life, and all will mean spending the last days of my life in a hospital. I don’t want that. I want to be here, home, with those I love around me.”

Lucas had begun to speak, but Bella had interrupted at hearing her Mom’s words replay in her head a second time. “Wait…last days? Surely…”

But her logical mind had reminded her that her mother couldn’t live without dialysis. If she couldn’t get the treatment…

“They’re saying a matter of days…” Maria had said on a shrug. “Maybe weeks.”

Weeks… Mere days…? How can this be possible?

When Bella had been able to sort through the emotional overload, she’d called her boss, taken time off, called her closest friends who knew and loved her mother, too. Her brother had done the same.

That first night had been like old times. Maria had seemed her old self. They’d made dinner together, played games, laughter flowing freely while they enjoyed life as if it was in abundant supply. Maria had gone to her own bed that night while Bella and Lucas took up their old bedrooms. The end sped by after that. Her mom had been moved to the hospice bed at the end of the next evening, and, though she’d been lucid enough to talk for a short time about things Bella had barely been able to process, it was over before another day could pass.

What followed had been a blur of unreality. Luckily, Bella’s mother had been prepared, exactly as if she’d planned for it, which she had. According to Antonia, Maria had spent the last few years making sure the final details of her life and her death were wrapped up. She hadn’t wanted to be a burden on anyone, and her arrangements had ensured that situation–as jarring as the pre-planned events had felt to both Bella and Lucas following their mother’s death.

By the time the family visitation and funeral came scarcely a week later, Bella had begun to feel like the wound she’d sustained from the loss had opened and closed and opened and closed so many times, she might never heal properly. Antonia’s hug after the funeral luncheon and her parting words hadn’t really impacted until another week had passed, culminating in the Saturday her mom’s best friend had requested to see her again.

Antonia had texted her the previous evening, asking if she’d be coming around the next day. Bella hadn’t forgotten, but the reminder had her asking Lucas if he’d received the same invitation. He hadn’t. Which bothered Bella more than she could calculate, increasingly more so in the middle of yet another sleepless night and into the following morning. While it wasn’t unheard of for Antonia to extend a meal invitation, something about the time it’d been issued didn’t sit well with Bella, nor that she alone had been invited.

Mom rendered me all but mute, shell-shocked, during our last conversation when she told me things that stunned me–a revelation cut short because she simply didn’t have the strength to answer a million questions, and I couldn’t ask her to…which meant I would find out the details later, when she was already gone, and secondhand.

That Lucas hadn’t also been summoned to a potential bombshell implied one of two things: 1) Antonia was trying to protect him by going through Bella first with whatever her news might be. Lucas had been born with a form of Down Syndrome that allowed him to be high functioning for someone with his condition. Since his high school graduation at 17, just last year, he’d been supporting himself independently in an assisted living facility and employed full-time on a farm owned by the parents of his best friend who’d died as a teenager. 2) What Antonia had to say only pertained to Bella, not her half-brother.

As she pulled into the driveway of Antonia’s small but comfortable home, Bella drew in a shaky breath, recalling painfully the confessions her mother had made from that hospice bed. I didn’t want to hear them. They were too much when Mom was lying there, dying, her hand in mine so frail, I might have been clutching a ghost.

Antonia hugged her, easing her over the threshold almost as one action instead of two. “How much do you know?” she asked without preface, arm around Bella’s waist as she led her to the kitchen. “How much did your mother tell you?”

Bella swallowed. I don’t want to hear anything else. It’s too soon. I’m still grieving. But she also realized her thoughts were knee-jerk. She had to know, and it would do no good to push away something that would come as a blow whenever it landed.

“Something about a house I inherited somewhere in northern Wisconsin. Can’t remember much of what Mom said about that,” Bella said as she moved to the counter near where Maria had begun dishing up a cold pasta and fresh veg salad in the vintage pink mushroom bowls Bella and Lucas had grown up using. “But that was apparently just easing Mom into telling me about Dad’s trust account he left for me being depleted. She said she used it when Lucas was 12. There was no other money to send him to the facility he needed ’cause we couldn’t care for him ourselves anymore, with Mom’s health being so bad. I assumed back then that Mom found some kind of state or Federal aid that paid for his care.”

“She did that as long as she was able.”

Antonia had started law school but never finished. Bella bit her lip, then said carefully, “You must have helped Mom…as the executor of that trust Dad set up for me–helped Mom get the money for Lucas.”

Since her dad’s death, Bella had known of the trust fund he’d left to her. She’d been told her father put Antonia in charge of it because he’d never wanted Maria to have the burden of managing it–what with her chronic health issues, it was the last thing she’d needed.

Antonia set down the bowl and turned to face her. Her dark eyes were sad, rimmed with red, and loving. She brushed Bella’s white-blond hair back behind her ears. “Let’s be clear, Bell my dearest: I encouraged her to use that money. I only did it because there was no other alternative. We couldn’t care for Lucas the way he needed at that time, and the aid your mom was getting wasn’t enough to cover the expenses. Her own health was getting worse. And she wanted you to live your own life, make your dreams come true. Not be bur–”

“Don’t,” Bella insisted, her throat closing instantly on the sob cramming itself into the small space.

“You wouldn’t have considered her or Lucas a burden, I know, but she wanted you to be free, my sweet.” Antonia leaned close, her hands cradling Bella’s face.

“It was the only way,” Bella whispered her forgiveness as impulsively and wholly as she had when her mother spoke her confession in a hoarse, shamed tone while on her deathbed.

“Your mother always intended to pay it back, if not with interest, at least dollar for dollar. But…well, you know she never got any healthier, and Lucas managed to care for himself while having access to the assistance he needed. The very second he did that, your mom stopped taking from your trust fund. So it was only a few years of drawing from it.”

Five years, Bella had figured out. During the same five years I was drawing from the trust to pay for my bachelor’s degree. I only ever took out what I didn’t get from scholarships and grants, which mainly covered my tuition. I’ve worked full-time since I was 14 so I could pay for my own living expenses and books easily while in college. By all rights, my educational requirements wouldn’t have done much toward depleting that trust fund. But Lucas’s 24/7 care and medical bills were astronomical. Mom had a full-time job just applying for every bit of financial aid she could eke out for him–and that was all she could handle when it came to physical labor. Her health has been in decline since she was in her late 20s. She married again quickly after Dad died, Harv–a man she met in our church. I couldn’t begrudge her, and my stepdad took good care of her and Lucas, when he came, of the union. But Harv and Mom were never healthy. What would we have done if Antonia hadn’t taken us in after he died?

Bella suspected she would have taken on a lot more–both caring for her mom and brother, as well as being the sole breadwinner. Finishing college might not have been an option for Bella if she’d known the truth, though she’d taken longer to get her degree because she’d had to keep a steady job all that time to pay her living expenses. There’d been little to spare, but she’d had the trust fund her Dad left for her, saved for her future goals.

Even when Bella had turned 21, she’d allowed Antonia to manage the trust. With the experience Antonia had had early in her marriage as an accountant, and then later, after her husband died and she’d decided to go to college, only ever fulfilling the requirements for a paralegal, she was in the best position to handle the fund.

Antonia stepped back, picked up one of the full bowls, and handed it to Bella with a fork. She got her own and followed Bella into the dining room where a pitcher of raspberry iced tea waited with circles of lemon floating on top. When Bella sat, she saw the paperwork from her trust fund occupying the placemat. Instantly, her gaze absorbed the amount left in her account circled in a pink highlighter. Setting the bowl aside, she pulled the papers toward her. The dollar amount left her winded, her brain frozen as if she’d eaten ice cream too fast. Her hands crawling into her hair on both sides of her head, clutching as the jarring truth was brought home to her.

Less than half the amount I believed I had–the amount I counted on. Her best friends and business partners Ori and Marsh were relying on this fabled money right now to invest in the retail shop they’d been planning to open together. Mom knew this. Antonia knew it. For years! All the times me, Marsh, and Ori talked to them about our plans… We were one breath away from plunging everything we’ve all saved into this already precarious investment.

Dear God, we’re well and truly screwed this time! I’ve been inadvertently deceiving the two people who’ve been my best friends since I was nine years old because I just assumed all the money I had for my share of our investment was still there, waiting for me to use. And now most of it is gone. I no longer have enough to make our plans come true, especially since we figured out that the retail space we need will cost us so much more to rent than we’d hoped.

When her mother had recently ventured into unspoken territory to tell Bella this, Maria had only admitted the first step to what some would have considered an outright fraud and an act of thievery. She’s known for years she destroyed my future plans with Ori and Marsh with her actions, but her shame was so overwhelming, I couldn’t force her to admit the full truth when she finally disclosed it. I also couldn’t hold anything against her. She was dying. But…damn…

“I’m so sorry, Bell,” Antonia murmured, not bothering to eat or drink as she watched her absorb the full ramifications of the past, present, and future.

Bella swallowed, trying to find the will to take a deep breath and move on. It wasn’t easy because she kept realizing exactly how far she, Ori, and Marsh had gotten in their pursuit of their dream. One step away… I have to call Marsh and Ori!

“Is that all?” Bella burst out. A stunning question came to her. “Is there even more owed than this…?” Financial devastation. My mom just died, and with death there’s always unfinished business. Debts. Costs…

Antonia’s expression said it all. This depleted trust fund was, again, just the tip of the iceberg. She had more to tell Bella, more weight of long-withheld confession to crush her under. Nodding, Antonia pursed her lips, then sat up straighter. “You may not fully realize, but the last several years, your mom has actively been doing everything she could to divest herself of anything that could be construed as an asset. She knew because we talked about it frequently that debtors tend to swoop in in an attempt to take everything they can get in the end.”

“You advised her?” Bella asked. In the past, she would have said that was a good thing, the very best, because her Mom had never been very good at managing anything on her own.

“Yes. I advised her to get rid of anything she didn’t absolutely need, anything that could lead to complications after she was gone. She really has nothing by way of assets, and, as a result, nothing by way of debts, other than hospital bills. She didn’t have credit cards, didn’t buy anything that a loan might be needed for. She didn’t own a house, she lived here with me, and she never had any property or jewelry or investments to speak of. Her car is worthless, paid off long ago by Lucas’s father, and she hasn’t even used it in years, so it’s a matter of simply getting rid of it in whatever way you choose, though you won’t get much of anything for the sale, I’m sure. I told her to make me executor and advised her not to make a will since she had nothing as lofty as an estate anyway. There would have been far too much involved that way, and it would have been a burden for anyone else–namely, you and Luc.”

“So…her medical debts…?”

“You and Lucas are adults. You can’t be forced to pay for those.”

“So…it’s just…over? That’s it? The hospital can’t collect…”

“If there’s anything of an estate, they can try. But she had nothing to speak of, so there’s no reason to think they’ll get their hands on anything.”

“What do you mean?” Bella asked in surprise.

“The hospitals that are owed debts for her medical bills over the years would most certainly make a grab for anything they can get from her. However, if I delay the probate process, say for six months or so…”

“That’s allowed?”

Antonia lifted an eyebrow. “Well, it’s frowned upon, of course, but I think there’s a way I could legally delay the process.”

“Why six months?”

“There’s a hard six-month limit for debtors to file claims. If I’m able to delay the process for at least that long, they won’t have time to collect on the debt they’re owed. Which allows you and Lucas to claim any inheritance jointly.”

Bella stared at Antonia, her mind fatigued by all that was involved. She’d always been able to understand her mom’s unwillingness to be made responsible for anything, especially legal and financial issues. She hated the side-stepping, guess-work, and cold, calculated maneuvering needed to achieve a fair outcome in matters such as those. In fact, Ori was the one Bella and Marsh trusted to handle both aspects for their upcoming business plans. Ori loved stuff like that. She excelled in those areas.

“How would we go about doing that? It sounds…overwhelming.”

“It can be, I won’t lie to you. And that’s why your mom made me executor. The burden will fall on me. It’s the least I owe you for my part in helping your mother take so freely from your trust fund.”

“I don’t look at it that way, Antonia.”

“I’m glad you don’t, sweetie, but what we did wasn’t right. Certainly wasn’t fair to you, especially now, when you and Marshall and Ori were so close to getting your boutique up and running. But I’m confident I’ll be able to get something back for you in the end. I need to do more research first…talk to the lawyers at the firm and call the insurance company to make sure I understand the finer details. I can’t promise either of you will get much if anything, but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure any inheritance goes to the two of you.”

In six plus months’ time. And, by then, the one halfway acceptable space me, Ori, and Marsh were going to rent for our shop will be long gone, taken by any one of the others who are already vying to lay claim to it. We’re days or even mere hours away from Ori securing the additional funding we needed to outbid the others. I need to call her and get her to stall, but I don’t even know how I’m going to bring this up with her and Marsh. All the plans we’ve made to turn our dream into reality have become like so much waste, being flushed away.

“That’s not the only thing, though. Your mother did have a life insurance policy that’s not subject to seizure of that kind. Though I’m sorry to say it’s not much, it may be something of a decent inheritance for you and Lucas.”

“Is that all now?” Belle asked. “There’s nothing more you need to tell me?” About the stuff mom brought up to me at the very last moment? Once I told her I forgave her, not to worry about it anymore, that was my last chance to find out the full truth. I had to forgo that. What else could I have done?

Bella knew it was why her mother had waited so long to reveal the bad news. What would Bella have done if her mom confessed years ago, before death closed in, coming so near that the chill on the backs of their necks could be felt palpably? Would Bella have been angry with her mother, unwilling to forgive so quickly and easily?

Mom couldn’t get herself to take that chance. Maybe she already knew she only had a short few years left, and she wanted us to be on speaking terms all that time, not fighting or worse–estranged from each other.

“That’s the last of it, Bell. I didn’t know anything about property though. I would have known if she held anything that substantial as an asset.”

“She told me she signed it over to me long ago. It was no longer her property but mine. I’m not sure how long ago she did this…”

“It must have been before four years ago, when she decided she had to get her end-of-life stuff sorted. I don’t know anything about it. But there are still things you need to go through in her bedroom. Maybe there’s something about it in there.”

“Why wouldn’t I have known about this long ago, when she gave me the house in whatever legal way was necessary?”

Antonia shrugged, but offered, “You may have been a young child when it was done. Rey and I met your parents after you were born. Maybe before you leave today, you could poke around and see if you can find something about this property in her things.”

Bella could feel that task drop out of the sky on top of her like a suffocatingly heavy blanket. “Honestly, I don’t know if I have it in me, Antonia. Not today. Not yet.”

“Do you want me to gather things and, when you’re ready, you and Lucas can go through it? I can’t imagine there’s a whole lot. A couple boxes. No more.”

“I’m sorry I’m putting everything on you–”

Antonia reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t mind. If it makes it easier for you, I’m happy to do it.”

That Bella would have to talk to Ori and Marsh about another death none of them were ready to face felt like the decisive crippling blow. Don’t they say dreams die a slow death…

 

***

 

Saturday, August 29th

 

Grief led Bella to the rental space she and her friends had recently been stalled from securing with the entry of other potential renters who’d cropped up, requiring their bid to be driven higher. Ori had scrambled, forced to throw together additional capital. Bella’s mother’s abrupt decline and passing had also thrown a monkey wrench in the works. Chances were, they would already be signing the papers now if not for the dual delays.

With her car parked, engine off and windows open to the sweltering hot, late summer day, Bella stared at the building that, admittedly, wasn’t perfect. The eclectic boutique they’d been talking about opening for as long as she could remember was aptly named Tinker, Tailor, Baker Boutique. There, they would offer a little bit of everything with their unique skills. Marshall Crichton’s handmade wood and metal gifts and furniture would be offered in the retail section of the space alongside Victoria “Ori” Williams’ designer items–one-of-a-kind clothing, jewelry, shoes, perfume and makeup, art, and miscellaneous accessories that ran the gamut. Bella’s bistro would offer a daily selection of yummy sugar- and gluten-free, organic, and mostly vegan-friendly finger foods, bakery treats, and gourmet coffee and tea. She envisioned it as a place people could just hang out in all day or evening. Additionally, she would offer catering and event services.

This particular rental space wasn’t nearly large enough. All aspects of their talents would have to be cropped back to allow them each sufficient, albeit small, places to sell their items in the store. They would have to share a very small office as well as a cramped space in the basement they’d hoped to be able to work out of instead of being limited to only filling it with essential inventory and stock. In the back of their minds, they’d all also hoped to have individual, personal apartments on another level of the building. The last had always been a wish they hadn’t expected to be able to fulfill.

Of all the rental buildings they’d been looking at over the course of the last year in Madison, Wisconsin, none of them had been ideal. With each one, something had to be compromised or even surrendered altogether. This one, there’d been less of each of those, but still it wasn’t perfect. Ori had spoken of making a go it for five to ten years, forging success during that time, enough to warrant building exactly the space they needed. The downside of that was that the hopefully loyal customer base they’d built up during the years would have to be willing to travel a bit farther to gain access to their goods. There was currently no affordable, ideal space for building inside the busy, bustling city.

Bella’s phone beeped at her, far from the first time since she’d left the house near the college she, Ori, and Marsh rented. She’d told her friends the concerns she had about speaking with Antonia. She bit her lip, recalling that she hadn’t wanted to admit her mom’s confession about taking Bella’s trust fund to pay for Lucas’s care. Instead, she’d talked about what her mom’s will–if she’d even made one–might bring, and about the house Bella had apparently inherited.

“My dad passed it down to me when I was young, and his mom handed it down to him when he was,” Maria had told Bella. “I’ve never been there. Never wanted to go there. I’m not sure where it is, even. My dad just said, ‘keep it in the family–don’t sell it, don’t live in it’. Nobody’s lived there, not since my father was a little boy.”

“Why?”

Her mother had shrugged, leaving Bella to assume it was a piece of crap property no wanted to buy and so they hadn’t been able to sell it, let alone live in it. What else made sense?

“Your mom doesn’t…didn’t…strike me as the will type,” Ori had commented when Bella moved on to talk about what (presumed unpleasant) surprises might be in the document.

“What would happen if she didn’t have a will?” Bella had asked.

Ori had shrugged. “Probate, I think. Same as if she did have a will.”

The word “probate” meant little or nothing to Bella, beyond being something legal that happened after someone died. She hadn’t thought about it much until last night, when she was trying to sleep–the time her brain usually decided to analyze everything she otherwise put off considering.

Bella glanced at her cell phone from the building they’d been investing all their hopes in to see she’d received texts from both Ori and Marsh.

At 24, Bella was the “baby” of the group and treated as such by both her “mothering” friends. Marsh was two years older than her, Ori a year older than him. They’d all read the same international magazine as kids, with invitations for pen pals in the back. Bella had always lived in Wisconsin, while Ori moved around a lot until she became a teenager and her parents–both ex-military–joined an aeronautic/astronautic business and finally settled indefinitely in Redondo Beach, California. Marsh hailed from a very large family in Wallasey, Cheshire, England. Her best friends tended to be protective of her, as if her age dictated the need to take care of her.

“I have to tell them.” She spoke the words out loud as if to spur herself not to procrastinate until she got home. They’d been waiting until Ori secured the additional funding needed from her many sources before moving forward with the rental. If she got that today or tomorrow, she’d follow the plan, and they’d be signing papers ASAP. I have to tell them we can’t before that happens.

With her bottom lip between her teeth, Bella set up the three-way video communication they often used on their cell phones. Closing her eyes, she let her thumb depress the button to initiate the call. She wasn’t sure who responded first because in seconds they were both saying her name, overlapped. She opened her eyes to see her screen divided between the two of them.

“I’m on my way home now. Let’s talk then, okay? But…first…” Deep breath. This has to be done. Sooner, not later. “Ori, whatever you do, hold off on sealing the deal on the rental building.”

The big, beautiful, sapphire blue eye that was visible through the parted curtain of Ori’s bold, pinkish red hair opened even wider than normal. “What? Why? Did something…?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as we’re all together.”

“Okay, but when you say hold off, do you mean for a day or two–?”

“No. I mean…indefinitely.”

Ori’s mouth formed an O before she was off and running vocally again, searching for another available lane. “The deadline is–”

“Don’t do anything, Ori, okay? ‘Cause we’ll all regret it if you do. I’ll be home soon. We’ll talk. I promise I’ll tell you without delay when I see you both.”

She wrapped up the call, deflecting more of Ori’s panicked questions, while ineffectively trying to avoid Marsh’s solemn, very concerned expression as he looked at her out of hooded sage eyes, his full lips flat-lined within the tidy nest of abundant facial hair that made up his thick beard and moustache.

From the first time they’d exchanged photographs, Marsh’s face had made an impression on Bella. She couldn’t remain unmoved by anything articulated there. He was the one obstacle to voicing what she needed to within their group setting. If she got home and Ori wasn’t there yet, still attending a class or off handling one of the countless things she micromanaged every hour of every day, Bella knew she’d have trouble holding back a flood.

What is it with these two people? I grew up friendless. I was uncomfortable with everyone physically around me in school, so much so that I rarely spoke some days unless my mom decided her “darling mute” had had enough silence. Was it because Ori, Marsh, and I only got together through written letters that I eventually opened up and let them see who I am? In person, I was a locked vault with nearly everyone. Before our written correspondence became the highlight of all our lives, I was only close to my parents, Antonia, and Lucas. No one else knew me, beyond superficial recognition, at school or church. I still sometimes hold myself back from Ori, which isn’t easy because she’s such a big personality–and I suspect that is the reason for my reticence with her. In the general sense of the word, Ori is a talker and a doer. Marsh is a listener, a ‘sit and wait to act’ sort of person. He’ll remain in stasis until I’m ready, and somehow that patience makes me want to talk to him immediately instead of holding back.

As Bella settled back deeply into the hot leather seat, she saw another text on her phone, this one from Lucas. He wondered what Antonia wanted to talk about. Instantly, Bella realized he already suspected it had something to do with him, however inadvertently. He knew her well enough to know she’d try to keep it from him, not wanting him to feel any of the burdens life gave everyone without prejudice. Lucas was extremely capable, but that didn’t mean he’d had an easy time of it with his condition. It also didn’t mean he was removed from feeling a sense of responsibility. He didn’t like it when the people he loved tried to protect him, keeping bad stuff hidden from him. He’d fought hard to become self-sufficient when he’d somehow discovered the sacrifices that were being made to care for him. His victory had come after graduating high school. It was then that Bella fully realized just how badly he’d needed to prove to himself, as well as to them, that he could live independently.

I wish I could protect him from this truth: That Mom took away the future I was working so hard to create for myself to make sure he was taken care of in the present. It’s what I would have wanted her to do back then, if she’d told me the full situation or even asked me for the money outright. But, regardless of how okay I am about what she did, it won’t make it any easier to tell Lucas. If I try to hide this from him and he finds out anyway, he’ll be furious. Ugh! I don’t want to tell him. He’ll be devastated. He’ll want to “pay me back” when there’s no way he could afford that. Even being high-functioning and self-supporting, his medical bills and care will always be expensive, alarmingly more so the older he gets.

Bella sighed deeply, knowing she had to include her brother when she told Ori and Marsh the situation. The sooner they were aware of where they stood, the faster they could begin dealing with it. She wasn’t sure hope existed for finding ways around her inability to invest an equal share in their business plans but, as Ori was fond of saying, giving up was the surest means of defeat.