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  “Shannon, does it really matter now?” she whispered, still not looking up.

  “Probably not, but I'd still like to know. Trust me, nothing you could say would be any worse than what he said to me every single day for almost 18 years,” I said sighing.

  “Okay... Well, once, after you left the room, he said, 'Idiot'. I tried to ignore him, but he went on to say that you were a gold digger who only stayed with him for the money. He said that when he died, you thought you were going to be all set financially, but that he had some big surprises in store for you....” Evelyn said holding my hand in hers and looking me in the face, finally. “I never could figure out why he was so angry. You took wonderful care of him even though he was so nasty and mean to you.”

  “I wonder what that meant? I am not a gold digger. Good Lord, a gold digger would have left years ago. I was more of a doormat.... Well, no more. I am making a new life for myself.... without men....” I trailed off.

  “Shannon, let me give you the benefit of my almost 60 years on this Earth. Don't let some man who treated you wrong ruin your ability to love again. Ain't no man worth that. He was just a bad egg, honey. Go get you a golden egg!” Evelyn smiled as she used one of her hands to slap me gently on the knee.

  It was a nice moment to have a motherly figure talk to me. I had missed that about having my own mother around. Truth be told, she would have given me the same advice Evelyn was giving me right at that moment.

  Chapter 3

  The next few days were like a whirlwind. John's service was nice and calm. Little emotion was shown by anyone including his own brother, David. He and John had been estranged for about four years, so no surprise there.

  A lot of John's clients and partners at the law firm came. Although John's parents died in a plane crash ten years before he died, I had hoped that he and David could keep their small family together. No such luck as John had alienated him. David was a nice guy, but he wouldn't put up with John's antics. He had also told me many times over the years that his brother was a sociopath and I should leave him. Maybe I should have. Maybe I was too weak because he made me believe I was useless and worthless.

  After the service on Monday, I went back to the house to start planning my next moves. Maybe going back to school to finish my own law degree or maybe I would start my own business. By Tuesday morning, the fog was starting to lift, and I felt like I was getting my legs under me again.

  Courtney had just finished high school and was headed off to college at the University of Georgia, so I was about to be an empty nester. Life was changing all at once.

  Living in the plush Atlanta suburbs had been a godsend over the years because it allowed Courtney to get involved in the finer things of life. She was well cultured and would do fine on her own. She would likely be the life of her sorority house. I prayed that she would find a good man who would love her and not try to control her.

  “Mom? Someone's at the door!” Courtney yelled from her room upstairs. Apparently, I had so zoned out sitting in my chair drinking my coffee that I hadn't heard the doorbell. I ran over to open it and found a gentleman standing there wearing a nice suit and holding a file folder.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  “Are you Shannon Harris?” he responded with a smile.

  “Yes, I am. And who are you?”

  “My name is Phil Sizemore. I just wanted to express my condolences to you on the untimely death of your beloved husband, John.... And I also wanted to find out when I can move in....” he said as he started opening the folder.

  “Move in? I don't understand.....” I was completely and utterly confused.

  “Didn't John tell you, Mrs. Harris? I own this house. I've owned it for almost two years now....” he said furrowing his eyebrows.

  “What in the hell are you talking about? I own this house. It reverted to me when he died.....” I snapped.

  “Mrs. Harris, I own the home. I assure you. Here, take a look at the signed and executed contract, the deed....” Phil handed me the file folder which was full of closing documents from two years prior. There was also some kind of trade paperwork that didn't look familiar to me.

  “What is this? The trade document?” I asked.

  “That was our agreement. You see, I owned a farm up in the north Georgia mountains. Mr. Harris approached me when I ran a classified ad a couple of years ago. He told me that he wanted to do a trade of my property for this one. We completed escrow in June of that year.”

  “June.... That's when he was diagnosed....” I muttered to myself.

  “You can see that his law partner was the one who actually did the closing. Parker Daily was his name...” Phil continued pointing out facts in the paperwork. I felt like my mind was spinning.

  “I am shocked.... I don't know what to think or what to do here.... My daughter hasn't left for college yet....”

  “I'm not sure what to say, Mrs. Harris. I just know that Mr. Harris told me he was dying.... terminally ill... and that I could take possession within a week of his death. Parker called me yesterday morning and alerted me to his passing. Again, so sorry..... But my family and I have been waiting....”

  “Listen, I don't really care how long you have been waiting. This is news to me, and until I talk to Parker, I am not going anywhere!” I yelled and slammed the door in his face.

  Fuming mad, I immediately reached for my cell phone as I peeked out of the window to make sure Phil was leaving. Thankfully, he was leaving so I could calm down temporarily. At least Courtney hadn't heard our conversation, so she was focused upstairs packing her boxes for college.

  “Parker? This is Shannon Harris. We need to talk. Now. Can you come over to the house? Great.... Oh, and Parker? Bring the files about the sale of my home and anything else that I don't know about...” I said. Parker went silent when I mentioned the home sale. He knew all hell was about to break loose.

  It seemed to take hours for him to arrive, but it had only been about 30 minutes before he was at my door, file folders in hand.

  “Shannon. Good to see you again....” he said politely as he brushed past me in the doorway. Parker had always been one of those cold attorneys who seemed to have no compassion or heart.

  “Parker,” I said as I shut the door behind him and joined him in the living room. “Now, let's just put the niceties aside, and you tell me what in the hell is going on with my house,” I snipped.

  “Shannon, this is not your house. It hasn't been for almost two years now. John sold it. It was in his name only, so he had the right to do with it what he wanted while he was alive. And, truthfully, that is not all that he did...” Parker said looking down as he flicked through his files.

  “What do you mean that isn't all that he did? He took my home away, what more could he do?”

  “I don't know the easiest way to say this, so I am just going to go through the facts. He took his wealth and redistributed it well over a year ago. He set up a college fund for Courtney that will pay her tuition for up to eight years if needed. He set up a trust fund as well. She'll start getting that money at age twenty five. If something should happen to Courtney, God forbid, the money will be donated to one of the charities that John specified…” he started.

  “Okay. Those are both reasonable things....”

  “He took the rest of the money that wasn't being used to pay bills here and at the farm or for his medical care and he donated it,” Parker said looking up and moving his glasses down to the tip of his nose.

  “What? Are you saying that he left me nothing? I am broke?” I shot up from my seat, and I swear my head almost popped open from the anger.

  “That is precisely what I am saying, Shannon. Look, John was a different breed. I don't even know why he stayed married to you because he sure had a deep hatred for you, it seemed. I tried to talk to him about having some compassion here....” I was shocked to hear Parker even knew the word compassion. The fact that he knew what John did was wrong was even more irritating.

/>   “This can't be legal....”

  “You could fight it, Shannon, but honestly you would need money to fight his estate. And, I don't think you'd win. He sealed this paperwork up tighter than a drum. You know John.... he was a barracuda when it came to covering his legal bases. I will say this.... You will get a small insurance policy that he had set aside with you as the beneficiary. It's $100,000,” Parker said pulling out the paperwork.

  “Wow, how wonderfully nice of him.... I don't understand how he can do this to me since we were married for 18 years....”

  “Well, for one thing, he spent most of the money while he was alive. It was his money to spend....” Parker said with a little too much sarcasm in his voice.

  “It was OUR money,” I corrected him.

  “Again, Shannon, you could fight it but you are just going to spend a lot of time and money...”

  “Well, whatever... explain this thing with Phil Sizemore. What are my rights?” I asked.

  “I cannot advise you legally, Shannon. But, I can tell you that Phil has been very kind to wait for two years so that John could die in peace here at home. Now he wants to move into the home that he has owned for all this time. I called him on my way here, and he is willing to give you one week to move out,” Parker said in a matter of fact tone.

  “Well, aren't all of the men in my life so kind to me....” I said sarcastically as I rolled my eyes into my head. Feeling even more trapped with John in death, I sank further into the sofa. My hand was throbbing, my head was about the burst and I just wanted to run away.

  “Shannon, here are the keys to the farm. I think you will like it there. It's got ten acres and a restored farmhouse. It's actually a pretty nice place. Rustic, but nice. There are a couple of horses there, a barn.....”

  “I don't care for the outdoors, Parker. I am terrified of horses. John knew all of that which is why he is punishing me even in death.....” I said closing my eyes and leaning my head against the wall. My long brown hair was a mess from a day of stress.

  “Well, Shannon, I suggest that you make the best of it. Be happy for a new start in a new place in a paid for home,” Parker commented as if he was judging me.

  “You know what? You don't have the right to tell me how to feel. John did that for 18 horrific years, and I don't need any of this crap from you!” I shouted as I stood up and regained my power. “Can I at least get the address of my new home? And can I know who owns it?”

  “The address is on this paperwork,” Parker said handing me a stack of papers. “The owner is.... well, it's actually me, Shannon. John bought it and quit claimed it to me with the stipulation that I allow you to live there for as long as you want, then sell the property for fair market value and give the money to charity,” he admitted. “As his friend, I plan to keep that promise.”

  “So you own my house? Wow, that's classic....” I said putting my hands on my hips as I paced back and forth.

  “Look, I agreed to uphold what John wanted. We were friends for over 15 years, and I won't go back on my word,” Parker said standing up. “Be out of here by Monday or Mr. Sizemore will call the police and report you as a squatter.” With that, he walked out the door leaving me in my stunned state.

  Chapter 4

  Denise slammed the papers down on the table nearly knocking over my glass of red wine.

  “What in holy hell was he thinking?” she shouted as she popped up out of her bar stool and covered her mouth. “Shannon, you'll come live with me and Dan. You don't have to live in some crappy cabin on farmland in the mountains. Tell Parker to shove it, and you come stay with us...”

  “No, Denise, you and Dan have enough on your plate with his mother living there. Plus, I want a new start. I want to start over on my own since Courtney is leaving for college. I may not live there long, but I am at least going to go up there and see what he's done to me.... what was his final jab, ya know?” I said defeated and a little tipsy from too much wine.

  “You are welcome to live with us, but I know that you need some time alone.... some space to figure things out....” she hugged me from above as I sat stoically at table running my hand along the granite edges. Living in luxury would soon be a thing of the past. Sure, I could take the insurance money and start over, but how far would $100,000 take me without a home?

  “I told Courtney what her father did. She was appalled. She was angry. She wanted to stay with me and put college off for a year, but I told her no way. I just want to go up there and see what he did....”

  “When are you going?” Denise asked.

  “Well, the movers are coming Friday, so I guess I will be living there as of Saturday. It's about two hours from here. Maybe I should buy some overalls and a moonshine machine...” I laughed chugging a little more wine.

  “I don't think they make actual machines for moonshine, sis....” Denise giggled as we both fell into a fit of laughter.

  The rest of the night was sister talk, and the rest of the week was filled with packing boxes, saying goodbye to local friends and helping Courtney pack for college. She would stay with Denise for another week until she left for college life. Who knew I would leave home before she would?

  Friday was hard. Saying goodbye to my daughter was the hardest part, but I couldn't let her know it. Part of me wanted to jab John one last time by not moving into the farm house. He couldn't force me to do anything from beyond the grave, but he also knew that I would have no marketable business skills or money to get my new life started.

  After the moving truck pulled out of the driveway, I climbed into my SUV and began the long drive to the mountains behind it. I drove further and further from a life of wealth to a life that I didn't know. I was terrified.

  Chapter 5

  It was just before dinnertime when the moving truck pulled into the long gravel driveway of my new home. Shockingly, it wasn't all bad. Lined with beautiful pecan trees, the driveway stretched for at least a quarter of a mile. The clear blue sky was starting to have a hint of pink clouds that were backlit by the sun. I sure didn’t see these kinds of sunsets near the city. I felt a little bit blessed in that moment. It unnerved me.

  At the end was a circular drive, still made of gravel, that was situated in front of a completely renovated white farm house with a lovely wrap around front porch. It looked so homey. It was a far cry from the beautiful home we had in the Atlanta suburbs, but it wasn't terrible. I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere, and I guess I truly was. I was already feeling pangs of loneliness being so far from “home” without my daughter or sister.

  The home had dark shutters and a large front door that was curved at the top with these unique curved windows bordering it. I had never seen anything like it. There were two small verandas on either side of the front door that looked like the perfect place for a tea party back in the 1800s.

  The moving truck pulled to a halt right in front of my SUV. I hopped out in the steamy Georgia heat and walked up the front steps to open the door to my new home. My new life. My uneasy new world.

  Not sure what to expect, I asked the movers to take a short break while I turned on the lights. Thankfully, Denise had helped me call ahead to get all of the utilities turned on. I turned the key in the lock of the tall, heavy front door. When I walked inside, I realized that it was actually breathtaking.

  The original hardwood floors had character, and there was a big entrance hallway. Although everyone had described the home to me as a “farmhouse”, it felt more like a true antebellum home that you would have seen on Gone With The Wind, although it was a good bit smaller than that.

  The house wasn’t overly decorated. It was very simple with a lot of rustic appeal. A simple throw rug adorned the foyer floor while the hand sewn wood beams were overhead. I could just peek into the kitchen where I noticed stone walls with arched doorways. It was breathtaking.

  The kitchen cabinets had been refinished and painted a soft blue color. The cabinets had glass doors and were stocked with dishes. There was a
cut-out in the stone kitchen wall where a black cast iron pot hung on a chain secured to a wooden beam.

  Antique plates were fastened to the walls. A rustic wood table made from logs was situated in the middle of the eating area. I could see a covered sun porch just off the kitchen.

  How could John have bought a place that I love already? Did he misread my distaste of the outdoors, namely camping and the like, for a distaste of beautiful old homes away from the city?

  “Mrs. Harris? We really need to get moving with your furniture. Can you start showing us where to put things?” asked Gerald, one of the movers. I had been so smitten with the house that I totally lost track of time and the fact that I had asked the guys to wait out front in the humid Georgia heat.

  “Oh, sorry, Gerald. Yes, please start bringing things into… my new home,” I said, surprised at the comfort those words brought me.