him into a chair. “There’s something we have to talk about.”
“If Toby needs more dental work, I’ll do it myself.”
“No dental work.”
“You see the size of that last bill?”
“Yes, I saw it.”
“Who needs teeth, anyway? Clams don’t have teeth, and they get along
just fine. Oysters don’t have teeth. Worms don’t have teeth. Lots of
things don’t have teeth, and they’re perfectly happy.”
“Forget about teeth,” she said, fetching Youngblood’s letter and the
photographs from the top of the refrigerator.
He took the envelope when she offered it. “What’re you grinning
about?
What’s this?”
“Read it.” Heather sat across from him, her elbows on the table, her
face cupped in her hands, watching him intently, trying to guess where
he was in the letter by the expressions that crossed his face. The
sight of him absorbing the news gladdened her as nothing had in a long
time.
“This is . . .I. . . but why on earth . . .” He looked up from the
letter and gaped at her. “Is this true?” She giggled. She hadn’t
giggled in ages. “Yes.
Yes! It’s true, every incredible word of it. I called Paul
Youngblood. He sounds like a very nice man. He was Eduardo’s neighbor
as well as his attorney. His nearest neighbor but still two miles
away. He confirms everything in the letter, all of it. Ask me how
much a substantial amount of cash’ might be.” Jack blinked at her
stupidly, as if the news had been a blunt instrument with which he’d
been stunned. “How much?”
“He can’t be sure yet, not until he has the final tax figure, but after
everything’s said and done . . . it’s going to be between three
hundred fifty thousand and four hundred thousand dollars.”
Jack paled. “That can’t be right.”
“That’s what he told me.”
“Plus the ranch?”
“Plus the ranch.”
“Tommy talked about the place in Montana, said his dad loved it but he
hated it.
Dull, Tommy said, nothing ever happening, the ass-end of nowhere. He
loved his dad, told funny stories about him, but he never said he was
rich.” Again he picked up the letter, which rattled in his hand.
“Why would Tommy’s dad leave everything to me, for God’s sake?”
“That was one of the questions I asked Paul Youngblood. He says Tommy
used to write to his dad about you, what a great guy you were. Talked
about you like a brother. So with Tommy gone, his dad wanted you to
have everything.”
“What do the other relatives have to say about that?”
“There aren’t any relatives.” Jack shook his head. “But I never even
met”–he consulted the letter– “Eduardo. This is crazy. I mean,
Jesus, it’s wonderful, but it’s crazy.
He gives everything to someone he hasn’t even met?” Unable to remain
seated, bursting with excitement, Heather got up and went to the
refrigerator.
“Paul Youngblood says the idea appealed to Eduardo because he inherited
it eight years ago from his former boss, which was a total surprise to
him too.”
“I’ll be damned,” he said wonderingly. She removed a bottle of
champagne that she had hidden in the vegetable drawer, where Jack
wouldn’t see it before he heard the news and knew what they were
celebrating. “According to Youngblood, Eduardo thought that surprising
you with it . . . well, he seemed to see it as the only way he’d ever
be able to repay his boss’s kindness.” When she returned to the table,
Jack frowned at the bottle of champagne.
“I’m like a balloon, I’m floating, bouncing off the ceiling, but . .
at the same time . . .”
“Tommy,” she said. He nodded.
Peeling the foil off the champagne bottle, she said, “We can’t bring
him back.”
“No, but …”
“He’d want us to be happy about this.”
“Yeah, I know. Tommy was a great guy.”
“So let’s be happy.” He said nothing. Untwisting the wire cage that
restrained the cork, she said, “We’d be idiots if we weren’t.” know”
“It’s a miracle, and just when we need one.” He stared at the
champagne. She said, “It’s not just our future. It’s Toby’s too.”