I walked to my car without answering.
***
The following morning, someone knocked on my door.
I opened it to find Walter holding a small wooden box under his arm. He gave me the same quiet smile he’d worn at the wedding.
“We’ll talk soon.”
“May I come in?”
I stepped aside. He set the box on my living room table and folded his hands.
“Thomas asked me to deliver this the day after his funeral. Not before. I’ve also sent Raymond a formal letter this morning, notifying him, as your next of kin, that your affairs are under a trust. He’ll have it by noon.”
“What?” I asked.
Walter smiled. “Thomas was right. You finally walked right into his trap.”
“May I come in?”
I sat. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Walter drew a folded page from his jacket pocket. “Thomas left instructions I’m to read exactly as he wrote them.”
The lawyer smoothed the page and read gently, in a voice not quite his own.
“‘My darling Nancy, forgive me, but I set a trap, and you were never meant to be the one caught in it.'”
My breath caught. I gripped the edge of the table.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Walter looked up.
“Those papers you signed at the wedding did more than accept what Thomas left you. One was a new will naming a discretionary trust I administer, funded entirely by Thomas’s estate for your support. Another was a durable power of attorney. You named me, not Raymond, to speak for your affairs if you ever couldn’t.”
The lawyer cleared his throat before continuing.
“One was a new will.”
“And the third was your acceptance of the trust’s terms. Raymond cannot pressure you into signing anything binding again, Nancy. Any document touching your money or your care runs through me first, at your request. That was Thomas’s trap. A ring of lawyers around you, so no one like Raymond can ever slide a page under your hand.”
The wood was smooth under my fingers. There was a small brass latch.
“That was Thomas’s trap.”
I thought of Raymond’s cold smile at the graveside. I thought of Thomas’s shining eyes.
I lifted the lid.
And what I saw inside made me gasp!
I pressed my hand to my mouth and sobbed.
Inside sat a folded deed to Thomas’s family home, trust documents in my name, and a thick stack of letters tied with twine. Fifty-five of them. One for every year he hadn’t written, every year until the one that finally brought me back to him.
