Once again, thanks for dropping in on the story. Comments, or just plain old greetings, are always welcome.
It was a perplexing mystery, this box, and the more detritus they pulled out of it the deeper the mysteries became. They had no idea who the letters were from, or to. And though they had pretty much identified the woman in the newspaper as Brad's cousin, at least one reason for the rescue of the articles soon became apparent.
Pulling out a receipt from the "North Coast Life Insurance Company," Brad got a chill down his spine when he read the details: "Payable to Brenda North, the amount of $150,000," the payment of Veronica Stewart's life insurance policy given to Brad's mom. There was also some language on an attached sheet that she had signed, promising to accept the roles and responsibilities that were described on some other sheet which they couldn't find, but Brad assumed that it was just some legal boilerplate.
"Wow, they got a big chunk of dough when this cousin died. You'd have thought they'd have been grateful, but like I told you, what little my mom said about this cousin was pretty negative." Brad scanned the document as he talked, thinking that if he just read it again than some other fact, hopefully something putting his mom in a more edifying light, would reveal itself.
"Sounds pretty cold." Mike answered, but he wasn't sure that Brad was listening. While none of this was anything out of character for Brad's parents, at least in Mike's eyes, just hearing about more of the same clearly pulled his spirits down.
"Actually, a few things make more sense now," Brad said, not taking his gaze off of the insurance form. "There was a lot of stuff around the house that was new 20 years ago, including a nice Buick that finally died with 180,000 miles on it. After that, it was all used cars, mostly little Toyotas and Nissans, but that one they had forever." Then he smiled to himself. "One of my pals in high school knew the car when it was on it's last legs , and being a bit of a car nut knew what model year it was. He used to tell me that since the car and I were the same age that he suspected we were twins." Brad was smiling and laughing for the first time in a while.
He was again starting to get up out of bed when Mike gently, but firmly put his hand on the broad shoulder. Laying around the house, even as he was vigorously going through the papers, was about as uncharacteristic of Brad as it could get. He would be OK to start his job in a week, but in the meantime the doctor had ordered him to move around as little as possible, which meant that Mike was constantly having to corral him in the bedroom.
"Where ya going, bub? Unless you need to pee, you're not going anywhere. Gotta heal that leg, ya know."
"OK, OK! " Brad said, resigned to his recuperation posture once again as he plopped his head back on the pillow. "Pup, could you get me a glass of water? My throat's, umm, kind of dry." Brad asked.
"Of course. One ice cube or two?"
Brad smiled. "Such good service. Let's splurge -- just fill it with ice and stick some water around it."
"Coming right up!"
A few minutes later he returned with a large glass tumbler filled almost to the brim with ice water, which he place on an unusually shaped wooden shelf right next to the bed. He had installed these custom shelves all over the room in an effort to save floor space, and also show off some interesting designs.
"Thanks, pup. It looks good there."
This particular shelf, which Brad could easily reach, was just large enough for the glass, which was embraced by a shallow depression in the shelf, and a small vase with flowers that Mrs. Kovar kept filled. Sometimes the flowers were real, other times she would fill it with flowers that she would make from scrap paper, something like origami. Those were Brad's favorites.
"Do you remember anything else that they bought with all that money?" Mike asked as he sat back down on the edge of the bed next to Brad.
Bradwas quiet for a moment, trying to sort all this new information and how it fit with the facts around him as he grew up.
"A few things, but I'm not really sure that they came from this money." Brad became a little quieter as he spoke.
"You know," He began, looking at the glass of water that he had just taken from the shelf. "My folks always said that there wasn't enough money to get Ralph and I both nice things, so he would get the new stuff and I'd get the hand-me-down, because he was older, and because then we could both use it. That didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but I just accepted it and was thankful enough that I did get some pretty good stuff, even though it was used and sometimes didn't fit. I even got my hockey skates from him, and his foot is a size smaller." Moisture had formed on the side of the glass as Brad absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down the cool, wet surface. He hadn't drank anything yet.
Mike reached over and tapped the glass. "Drink up, babe, " he said.
Over the next few days, they completely emptied the box, sifting through every scrap of paper piece by piece. In spite of the thorough search no new secrets were revealed, at least anything that made them suspicious. The guys were just forced into more idle speculation about what this all meant.
There was certainly something going on here, or so they thought. But whatever it was, they could get too wrapped up in it. There were real lives to lead and those wouldn't wait. And one big urgent part of that life was to get clothes for their summer jobs, something a little nicer than the jeans and sweatshirts that constituted their school `uniforms,' at least for Brad.
Though one would expect Mike to have the style sensibility, seeing the career he was in, he was almost completely indifferent to it. Not that he dressed badly, or unfashionably. It was just he didn't see clothing the way he saw architecture and attached very little meaning to it. Kind of like an athlete who is passionate about swimming but can't understand why someone would want to play football. Brad had the better fashion sense of the two, but the consequences of the injury were throwing the responsibilities over to Mike.
One of Mike's professors had told him the importance of getting good consultants when you aren't the expert, so Mike extended that advice to his personal life and recruited Julie as fashion advisor. Her own summer job was at another hospital in town that was more of a research center, and since her interest in healthcare was more career focused than Brad's resume building, it was as a technician in one of the clinical labs. [C. M.1]she had worked in this setting before, so had good sense of what was appropriate, as well have having a stylish bent herself. And as far as Mike's own job was concerned, his stuff only had to be just a little nicer than his school duds.
It felt good to step into the cool mall from the heat outside as they headed toward the Macy's anchor store at the end of the Mall. Julie's days as a teenage mall rat were long gone, but she still knew her way around the place and got them to Men's section a lot quicker than Mike would have.
"Remember, only stuff on sale, OK?" He said.
"Of course, that's how you make it fun Mirek!" He just let out a small chuckle as they split up the tasks, one going for shirts and the other for slacks.
Mike stopped at a stack of button-down oxfords on sale, the solid color, button down kind that Mike thought he liked.[C. M.2]-They were a little on the conservative side, but all-cotton and well made. "I think Brad would look good in this, it kind of matches his eyes." He meant every word of it, but nonetheless cringed when the words escaped his mouth. Julie, like Hanna, tended to discourage the expression of sappy romanticisms in a relationship (as long as it wasn't their's) and Mike just waited for the fallout. But all he heard was the gentle rustling of clothes as she continued to meander through the aisles, picking through the piles of chinos and jeans on sale.
`Maybe she didn't hear!' he thought, relieved, as he put the shirt down and rustled through a couple of others shirts himself. She had moved off ahead a little bit by now, and had picked up another item that she was studying intensely.
`Mirek, come over here a sec. What do you think of this one." She held a pair of tan khakis in front of her.
"Do you think it will go with his teeth? Or maybe his ears? What about his nose? How about..."
"That's enough, thank you." he said with resignation in his voice and a half-cocked smile, as he put the slacks back on the pile. "They actually do look pretty good, but now they're tainted in my mind." He said with a nervous laugh.
She always thought that Mike looked extra cute when his cheeks got red in embarrassment.
They continued to stroll through the store, Mike eventually getting 5 shirts and 3 pairs of slack for Brad. Julie had to remind him to get things for himself, too, which in his absentmindedness, and his focus on Brad, he didn't even think about.
Mike wanted to get the shopping out of the way before he talked about their mystery box. As they left the Macy's and started the return trek back through the center of the mall, he told her all about their discovery, and the kind of things that they had found in it, including what they read in the newspaper articles and also the letters. It was a riddle that she found fascinating.
"I grew up on Nancy Drew mysteries, Mirek. So I'm really into this. Tell me more!"
"um, who's Nancy Drew? Mike asked, looking at her blankly.
Pop culture, especially older stuff that some American kids get from their parents, or grandparents, was often a big hole for Mike, but ever since he came to the America she delighted in being his guide through it. Whenever Mike showed one of these cultural gaps his accent seemed just a little stronger to her.
Anxious to further explain the particular Americana obscurity, as out-of-date as it might be, she wrapped her hand around his arm and pulled him close. It would have been an innocent, tender moment between the old friends if she hadn't noticed something.
"Has your arm gotten bigger? I mean, up here" she said, as she squeezed his bicep."
"um, yea, a little. We go to the gym sometimes, and fool around with the weights a little bit." He face was getting red again.
"Well, don't get too big, remember, you have to stay limber so we can continue our little gigs, this fall, huh?" She gave his bicep another little squeeze, half friendly and half copping a feel. At one time she loved these boyish types like Mike, slim and cute, but her tastes had definitely gone to the beefy side with Roger. Still, however, she appreciated a nice body on a guy no matter what the type.
She continued to lean close as they strolled through the store arm-in-arm, she explaining the charisma of the teen sleuth and he propping her up as they slowed to a very casual pace. In spite of the burden of the packages, they both savored what limited time they could spend with each other.
"I always imagined myself as the heroine of the stories, just like Nancy. Maybe that's part of why I want to be a doctor, to be the hero. I wonder if that's an OK motive."
Mike was quick to respond. "I can't think of a better one, really, he said. To want to be there for someone, and really make a difference."
"But am I doing it for my ego or for them?"
Mike thought for a few moments, his eyes going back and forth."I don't know, Jules, but does it matter? As long as you're doing someone some good and showing some kindness, I guess, who cares what the motivations are."
She just laughed and leaned into him a bit more. He always knew the right thing to say, even it wasn't the most poetic. and she selfishly would have loved to talk more about her professional motivations. But that could wait for later.
"Well, let me put on my Nancy Drew hat again and lets go through the facts again, OK?
Mike recounted the story one more time, trying his best not to editorialize about Brad's parent's whenever they came into the saga. Outside of what the guys absolutely knew to be true, it was a tossed salad of pretty good guesses (they were sure that the picture Brad had and the women's picture were matches, and finding the insurance money clinched that) hunches that didn't go anywhere (The guy in the picture sure looked like Brad, but it wasn't a great picture and what did that mean anyway) and complete befuddlement (what were those letters to the baby in the womb about? who wrote them? Why did they keep them?
"I guess my first, and biggest question, would be, `why do you think that these things are related at all?'
"Actually, we're not sure that they are related. We don't have any concrete reason to say that they are, but it's damn suspicious the way all these things would be in the same place at Brad's parents' house. Maybe it's just guilt by association, but, knowing them, it can't be something very good. But..." Mike paused.
"But what?" Julie asked.
"I can't help thinking that if we read those letters that something might be revealed here. But Brad's pretty adamant that we don't go through them anymore, that they're just too private. I know he's right, and I feel the same say, but if there was ever any reason for us to breach that trust I have to admit that I'd do it. I know it seems kind of invasive, but why the heck do his parent's have those letters?
"Yea, he is right, but let's at least go with what you know. You read at least one, didn't you?
"Well, part of one. I looked over his shoulder for a quick second and skimmed ahead, but I really only know what he told me."
"Well, what do you remember from it?"
"I need to think about this for a second," he said, but continued almost immediately. "After Brad talked a little bit about his letter, and we thought about it a bit, we decided to put them back. So it didn't seem appropriate for me to say anything more about what was in them."
"Can you think for a second, was there anything about what was written that you remember, or something that Brad said about it?"
"Well, we didn't say we wouldn't talk about what we had already read in the letters, and I've been on the up-and-up with that. I guess that's the spirit of the rule. I don't know Jules, I just don't feel too comfortable even speculating about it. But I guess you can ask me questions, maybe it will jog some part of my lights-out memory."
"Do he describe himself at all, I mean the writer?"
"maybe a little, but not directly. It was really about the kid, and the plans that he had for him." Mike mentioned the sentimentality of the letter, and how choked up Brad seemed to get when he read it."
"That's understandable, especially for Brad. That's the kind of Dad that he should have had." She waxed sentimental herself for a moment, but quickly got back to her questioning. "Did he say any names?"
Mike pondered he question for a moment. "Not that I can remember right now. Just the part about `your Dad,' but other than that, nothing." Mike now was the one who leaned hard into Julie.
"I think it hit Brad so hard because he himself wants so much to be a Dad. You know, even if he is able to get the big corporate lawyer job that he dreams about, he want's to quit to raise our kids"
"You guys want to have kids, Mirek? Really?" She stopped in the middle of the mall and looked at him, but he just took her arm and gently forced her back to a to their normal walking rhythm again.
"uh huh. I guess I never talk about it, but I guess I can hardly imagine life without any. That's been one of the biggest downers I've had the last few years, wondering if it would ever happen. But...hey, I'm getting off track here. Back to the mystery box." He said, as he gave her another gentle squeeze.
"Well, like I kind of said, sorry I'm so useless here, Jules, but between truly forgetting stuff, and I think a sort of reluctance to speculate about it because of what I agreed to with Brad, there just isn't a lot more that I can say. He and I will talk about it later, maybe we'll change our mind. But I'm not sure it's worth spending anymore time talking about until we know more, or at least I remember more."
She unwound her hand from his and then wrapped it around his waist as they continued their stroll. "Do you know that you say `we' a lot these days?'
"Oh, yea, I guess I do that a lot. You got a problem with that?" He teased.
"Well, since you've now taken on the role of Hardy Boys to my Nancy Drew, I guess the `we' is in order." She said, laughing, though the real meaning of what she said was obvious to both of them.
"Do you know what makes me the most suspicious though, that something weird is going on?"
"It's all pretty strange, Mirek. But I'm not sure which stands out, though."
"It's the money part. Brad's folks got $150,000 from her insurance. The really sad part is that Brad didn't see much of it, but his brother did. You wouldn't believe it, but Brad even had to wear his brother's hockey skates, and his feet are way bigger. Maybe I'm just pissed off because they were so unfair to him, but that's a lot of money to be throwing around."
"Jeze, Mike, you think like my Dad, but then again he's an investigator for the police department. Unless it's a family thing or some couple falling out, he always says `follow the money.'
And that Mike did, and he wouldn't let go. "It just doesn't make sense, Jules. It's not like they were sisters, they were cousins, and from what Brad says his mom didn't even like her. So why give her all of the money?"
"Well, maybe she was her only relative, even though they weren't friendly or close. You'd have to ask your future lawyer boyfriend this, but I though that if there wasn't any will that the relatives get all the loot."
"I think that's true, too, but in this case it was insurance, and there was some condition or something that had to be done in order to get the money, but that part is missing from the papers. Maybe it's nothing, but I'd just like to know what she had to do to get that much money." There was frustration in his voice.
"Anything else?" Julie asked, teasing him. She saw Mike getting worked up and purposefully interrupted him.
Mike answered quickly, as if he hadn't exhausted his indignation yet. "Yes. This thing about spoiling Ralph while they shortchange Brad get's me really pissed off, like I said. But as ridiculous as it is, the Ralph money doesn't nearly account for everything. And, I have to say, their house isn't anything fancy. So where did it all go?"
"All the right questions, Sherlock. But unless you get more information, from wherever you can get it, you're just going to keep going in circles. And I also think that you know that it could be just what it looks like -- his mom's cousin died, for whatever reason, maybe something meaningless, she got the insurance, and blew it on lottery tickets, or gave it to her church, or who knows. But you have to be prepared for an answer like that, too. That's all I'm saying."
Then she turned to Mike and smiled. "I remember hearing this in my psych class, so maybe it makes sense here: `Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.'
Mike laughed. "You know, you're probably right with that last part. Maybe I'm just too cynical when it comes to those people. They've intentionally hurt Brad so much that I just automatically assume that there's something weird going on. But maybe it's nothing."
Every time this subject came up, it got Mike stressed out and angry, which he knew was pointless, at least at this time. Besides, part of getting together with Julie was to catch up on her life, too. Wanting to get off of this subject, and catch up on more of Julies life, Mike asked how the wedding plans were going.
"This is where being an organized person really pays off, Mirek. With a month to go, I think that we're in great shape. The church, hall, food, band, invitations, all that stuff is done. It always helps when you're spending someone else's money, too. I don't have to look for the biggest bargain."
"Your parents have been OK? No insisting on their rights as cash cows?" They both laughed.
"No, not really. Mom has been there with `advice,' but it's really been our show. And frankly, it's not a real big wedding, maybe 100 people. She's the one who wanted over-the-top" but that just wasn't us, I guess. Except for the cake. It's quite the extravaganza."
"It's not the size of a small building, is it?"
"Let's just say that I had to make sure the door of the hall were wide enough to get it in."
"Your kidding!" Mike said, staring at her.
"Only a little."
Before she dropped him off at home, she couldn't help throwing one more question at him about the box. It was now starting to intrigue her even more, so she thought she could chew on the issue while she drove home alone.
"So, to go back to our little mystery for a second, do you remember any other small detail, anything, that you haven't told me." She turned and looked at Mike as he was about to open his door to get out. "Oh, Jeze, I'm beginning to sound like my Dad. But really, any other details?"
Mike paused for a moment, one hand on the door handle and the other trying to get around the handles of two of the shopping bags at once. "Well, not really. I guess the only other thing I just remembered, but I don't think this really means anything, is I saw another name on the letter that Brad had read, the one to the baby."
"What was the name.?"
"He wrote a name, I guess some guy, Ron or Ronnie, who for some reason was also involved in this thing. I was only able to glance at this as Brad and I were putting them away, but this guy Robert had said that Ron wanted him to stop kicking."
"Huh. I wonder who that person is, I mean, who to stop kicking? And who was Ronnie?" she asked.
"I don't ,know, some guy I guess. Maybe he was a friend or relative of this Robert guy, must have been a close friend somehow to get a mention. But it could be just chatter, also. Anyway, other little details like that might pop up in my mind, but right now I can't think of any." He finally opened the door and struggled out with his overload of bags.
"Take care, Jules, and thanks again for coming with me. It helped a lot. And I'll be sure to let Brad know what a champ you've been in doing this."
"No problem, " she said. He was too weighted down with packages to lean back in and give her a kiss, but pursed his lips as she did in return.
As she was pulling out of the driveway, she started to process the new tidbit of information into all of the other stuff that she knew. She continue her own musing on the drive home, trying to make connections but not really seeing anything obvious. She made one connection, but it didn't seem important at first, since Mike didn't attach much importance to it..
Not being in tune with all the diminutives of American names, Mike probably didn't pick up that Ronnie' is short form for Veronica, she thought. Another instance of his occasional gaps in cultural knowledge, which always amused and fascinated her. She smiled to herself as she continued driving, thinking about how he had missed this connection, but not about what the connection really meant.
She had parked in her usual place on the street in front of the house, as her Dad often hogged the driveway with his unmarked police car. After reaching over to the passenger seat and grabbing her purse, she hit the key fob to lock the car doors as she walked up the driveway. It was at that instant that she suddenly froze in her tracks.
Oh my god!' she thought. That can't be true!'
[C. M.1]You have used 'since' in two consecutive sentences which is not the best idea. As it is, you do not need it for the second sentence to make sense, so I suggest that you just delete it.
[C. M.2]Um, I think that part of this sentence is missing.