Back To Where I've Never Been

Untitled Part 12

The change in Mr. Fawn after they leave is instantaneous. His shoulders relax, the tension around his eyes smoothing out until he looks about 10 years younger. He shakes his head ruefully and offers me an apologetic smile,

"I apologize Violet, I am not usually so prone to conflict but-"

"Clarissa and that boy of hers take a rare delight in driving you to it." Grandmother finishes for him, waving off his apology for me with a flick of her hand. She gestures to his briefcase,

"What don't we forget all of that and draw the papers?" Mr. Fawn nods, opening the briefcase to draw up a thick ream of papers.

Grandfather moves to my other side, so that I am surrounded by my mother's parents. He takes me hand in his and offers me that quiet smile of his. I appreciate the support but on some level, it only makes me more apprehensive. What does he think I need to support for? What is on those papers?

*~*~*~*~*~**~*~

"You, Violet Price, are about to be a very wealthy woman." Were the first words Mr. Fawn said to me.

The papers in Mr. Fawn, who I would later learn bears the given name Adrien, 's briefcase were mostly papers transferring my mother's inheritance to my new bank account, set up in my new name. The name change was another thing in that briefcase of his.

I am now Violet Elena Rodenheim-Stewart, taking on the hyphenated last name like my uncles. I felt nothing but happiness when I signed over the name of "Price." It was my mother's name, but it bore only pain for her, she would be so happy to see me rid of it.

Soon after agreeing to the name change, Adrien had outlined just how much money I stand to inherit, in the form of several trust funds, upon my 21st and 25th birthdays. To put it lightly, a lot of fucking money. Until I could access the funds, grandmother and grandfather, and my uncles (except for Benjamin) and my Aunt and Uncle had set up an account with an "allowance" in it for my personal use. If allowances were the colloquial term for "enough to buy a small country", that is. When grandmother had seen my face at the amount already in the account, she had assured me that they would continue to give me the "allowance" every month, so I didn't have to worry about this sum "running out". Like I could ever spend that much in a month, or a year, or 50 years.

I didn't protest the money or even comment on it. Some of it was originally my mothers, left untouched even after they buried her, gaining interest along with the bonds and stocks in her name not only in the family company but several other well-known tech and consumer goods companies. Plus, it wasn't like I was ever really going to use the money and I already knew grandmother wouldn't accept it back, so I put the atrociously inflated numbers out of my head and vowed to pretend I was getting a normal-sized allowance each month.

The last part of our meeting wasn't so pleasant or easy to dismiss.

"This might be a bit awkward, but I want you to know that it is imperative you answer these questions honestly." The casual yet professional tone Lawyer Fawn had adopted throughout our meeting changed to one dripping with sincerity and caution. I leaned forward, waiting with bated breath for the other shoe to drop,

"What do you know of your father?" I hadn't been expected the question and it caught me so off guard I couldn't hide my reaction. I felt the blood drain from my face and the jitters start in my ankles, resulting in the bouncing that happens when I'm severely stressed, a condition nearly congruent with the word father to me.

"Why." I whispered, hoping they could just drop the conversation,

"Why does it matter." I needed a good reason, a very good reason to divulge what I knew. What I should never have known, but knew anyway. My mother had died thinking her secret was safe, and I had planned to go the rest of my life never uttering that foul name out loud, lest it darken more of my soul than it already had. Grandmother reached out at that point to take my other hand, drawing my attention towards her softening face, so like my mothers in that instant that I had to choke back the wave that threatened to break the fragile hold I had on my emotions.