Page 2 of Crash Over Us
“Did you come to bring me another tax bill?” I had asked Dean only a little while ago.
He answered. “No. No bills this time. Let’s go in.” He was wearing a charcoal suit. I was certain he was sweating beneath the pressed white shirt. Dean had a way of showing up at the cottage unannounced. This morning was no different.
I led him in through the screened porch and into the air conditioning. I poured a glass of water.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He sat at the kitchen table, withdrawing an envelope from his briefcase. It wasn’t the usual legal envelope or one of the blue folders filled with threatening letters. He slid the envelope toward me.
“This is for you.”
“What’s this?” I ripped open the top and retrieved a check from inside. The check was made out to me and signed by Island Stewards, LLC. I stared at the amount typed into the payment box. “Is this some kind of joke?”
Dean shook his head. “It came to my office yesterday. I put a call in to the bank. It’s legit. The funds are there, and it will clear.”
“But twenty-five thousand dollars?” I took a seat at the table. “I’ve never heard of Island Stewards, LLC. What’s this company?”
Dean took out his notebook. “I’ve tried to look into that, too. All I know is it’s an LLC for another LLC. Basically, that’s a shell company, hiding the identity of the members. There was a letter that came with it.” He unfolded a printed page. “It clearly states these funds are supposed to go to you and are for the preservation of Marshoak Island’s Blue Heron Marina.”
“But who? Why?” I was stunned. Then my eyes turned to Dean. “You did this, didn’t you? I told you I’m not taking your money, Dean. I’ll figure out how to save the marina without a loan from you.”
He lifted his hands in the air. “Hey, it’s not from me. I can show you everything it came in. Here’s the letter.” He handed it to me. “My offer is still good, but I swear to you this was sent by the LLC with strict instructions for you to have the funds.”
It was hard to believe him. He’d tried on many different occasions to give me money. The legal complexities of this check seemed like something an attorney would know how to do.
“If it’s not you, then who is it?”
“I wish I knew. But it does solve your problems. You can pay the back taxes, Margot. Get the IRS off your back, and there’s enough to do some of the upgrades you want.”
“But who would do something so generous and not want to be recognized?”
“Maybe you have a fairy godmother.” He smiled. “It happens.”
I was still processing the entire conversation with Dean.
Someone had answered the prayers I didn’t know I had thrown into the Universe. I hadn’t answered the question of whether I prayed or not. Life had felt unjust and uncertain after the deaths of my parents. The irony was that I inherited an entire estate from my uncle, but he wasn’t the rich kind. He had cast me as the heroine in the opposite of a fairytale rags-to-riches story.
Now, according to Dean Waters, the attorney I had inherited from my uncle and briefly dated seven years ago, someone had swooped in to rescue me from the pit that was the Blue Heron Marina. It was unbelievable. Dean wasn’t the kind of guy to play pranks. Maybe seven years ago, he would have tried some kind of stunt, but it would have involved a drinking game and a way to get me to skinny dip with him in one of the mansion pools at the end of the island. He wouldn’t joke about something like this. He wasn’t cruel like that when he knew I was hanging on by a very worn and thin financial shred.
Still. I couldn’t believe it was true. It made it harder to believe this was real when I didn’t have proof of the check in my hands anymore. He had driven off with the check.
The dust had barely settled from Dean’s car rolling down the gravel drive when I put the phone to my ear. I wanted Caleb to be the first to know Dean was about to deposit the money in the estate account so, I could pay the back taxes that had haunted me like a bad ex since I arrived.
The phone rang. I knew I had a silly grin on my face. Who wouldn’t after learning they had money in the bank for the first time? I started to frown when I realized Caleb wasn’t going to pick up. I decided to leave a message instead of a text.
“Hey, it’s me. You aren’t going to believe this. Okay, so…. wait. I think I want to tell you in person and not drop this kind of news in a voicemail. You have to call me back as soon as you get this. Okay? I can’t wait to tell you.”
I hung up and wandered toward the boat slips. I thought about all the things I could do to repair the marina. I knew the money wasn’t the kind to give the place a full makeover, but it was enough to buy paint, make a few repairs, and start hatching a plan with a marketing budget to bring in business to the Blue Heron.
I didn’t know all the goals I had, only that I wanted to succeed at this. I wanted to do something no one believed I could—including myself.
I noticed John had packed up his tackle box and was no longer casting a line in the water. He would have been an unlikely recipient of the news, but I was dying to tell someone. Caleb deserved to be the first.
I could channel all this energy into the great reveal tonight over dinner. I would surprise Caleb with the news and make a special evening for us.
I grinned and jogged back to the cottage. I looked around, realizing that part of our love bubble had kept me from keeping the place tidy. My nervous energy had found a purpose. I began to pick up pillows, fold blankets, and take the laundry upstairs to my bedroom.
It was an unplanned gesture, but I hugged the pillow he had slept on last night to my chest and inhaled. It smelled like him. That rich scent of cedar and salt air. My body tingled. I didn’t want to let it go, but hauling a pillow with me for the rest of the day was absurd.
