Read The Light in the Wound Online

Authors: Christine Brae

Tags: #Contemporary

The Light in the Wound (45 page)

 

 

“What passed between us in that luminous night can never be written or told.

On my final journey from this world the creases of my shroud will unfold our story.”

—Rumi

 

 

Before we know it, we have less than a week left to go before the three of us have to leave for Chicago. Our days have been filled with all sorts of meetings, as well as happy times with our families. Eddie has now become accustomed to using the intercom for anything and everything. Alex and I continuously caution him that life isn’t like this everywhere in the world. In a way we’re happy to watch him as he learns about this side of his heritage, who he is and where he came from. This is all new to him; he’s never experienced this kind of lifestyle. I know it will help him to be more grounded as he gets older, and I hope it inspires him to help others who are not as fortunate as he is later on in his life. Alex’s mom and I are getting closer and closer each day. She’s with me every afternoon as we meet with the architects and the contractors and the interior designer who will all be starting on our house while we close up our old life on the other side of the world. His parents have gifted us with a large piece of property adjacent to where their family home is. I live my life in eternal gratitude for all the blessings that we have. Of course when I think about it, I would still gladly give this all up for one more minute in my mother’s arms.

 

 

The lawyers are all on board with the drafting of agreements for all the businesses that my mother left behind. Business plans have been drawn up and our plans for expansion and reinvestment are now set for execution. Alicia and Evie will manage the actual properties while I take on the role of CFO and President to properly represent the company in all its future ventures. Our mother’s house is going to be put up for sale. We decide that there are too many painful memories in that house and that we should use the funds to build a vacation house where we all can get together every year as a family. My mother had actually requested that we do that.

“Find a way to see each other and vacation together every year,” she told Evie. “Build a summer home where anyone who needs a break can go to seek refuge. Life is short. I want my grandchildren to grow close to each other, to be together even if just once every year.”

We also do our best to clean out my mother’s closet and divide the items among ourselves. We cry a lot and laugh just as much while going through her cabinets, her closets, and her boxes. We aren’t aware that my mother has already set aside a box of items for each of her daughters. Ali finds them in her cabinet on the very first day that we started this task.

“Hey guys, look what I found! They have our names on it!” She squeals in excitement. We are all dressed in sweatpants with our hair clipped up off our faces. A mere two weeks have passed and the dust that has accumulated in that closet is utterly disgusting. We gather around her dressing room as Ali hands them out. Each box has a fair amount of items; she made sure that things were divided equally. Bracelets for each one, rings and diamonds as well, and two watches for each of her daughters. Since my mother and I were the only ones to share a shoe size, I’m fortunate to be the recipient of all her designer footwear. Each daughter also received a batch of mementos that she had kept while we were growing up. I sobbed as I fished through the bottom of my box to find a torn and faded shirt from long ago. She had saved my “Pretty and Perfect” t-shirt all these years. We never really lived with her for long periods of time, but she had kept whatever she could during her brief time with us. We had also booked a trip to the beach house as a family, and she was looking forward to going there with us. In her closet are five long sleeved bathing suits (she hated the sun) as well as a matching beach bag and umbrella that she had saved for each of us. All these discoveries help to give me the peace of mind that my mother was looking forward to seeing us before she passed away. That she had the will to live and didn’t want to die. For some reason, it’s really comforting for me to know that.

 

 

The last piece in our three-week puzzle remains to be decided — which business to invest some of our excess funds in. At first, I refused to further entertain the thought of purchasing one of the businesses run by Jesse’s group of companies. We searched for other prospects, met with other companies. But the financial projections and off the charts prospectus for that one restaurant was just too good to pass up. Besides, I thought that since Jesse and Ali had maintained their friendship over the years, she could ask him to appoint someone on his staff to deal with us for the time being. I knew he wouldn’t refuse the offer. He’s a businessman after all, and this is a business opportunity. I left it to Alicia to manage, only interceding when I had financial questions regarding the terms of the proposed contract.

Two days before we leave, the lawyers are finally able to complete the paperwork to allow us to purchase a franchise that will be operational at the location of their choice in eighteen months. Jesse’s company’s lawyers require that the CFO be the main signatory on the contracts, so I’m asked to attend a meeting with them at their main office. When I ask who will be attending the meeting with me, Ali assures me that he isn’t going to be there.

“Isa, I don’t have to go with you. Jesse said his lawyers would handle it. He’ll be out of town traveling, so you won’t need to see him.”

Am I happy about that?

 

 

The meeting is scheduled to take place at 4:00 P.M. on a Thursday afternoon, and I’m in the car stuck in traffic. I’m supposed to meet our office secretary and corporate lawyer at the main office of Cain Inc., and I send a text message to let them know I’m running fifteen minutes late. I walk up to reception and am escorted to a conference room on the 50th floor. The room is surrounded by glass walls and is beautifully furnished in gray and silver tones. There is a large conference table in the middle made of wood and glass combined. The walls are a light gray with recessed lighting embedded within the molded ceilings.
I want whoever designed this room to design my house
, I ponder to myself. I need to ask the receptionist about that on my way out. One side of the wall has pictures of a large, beautiful and modern looking house on a hill. The opposite wall has framed architectural plans of what I believe could be the same house. I momentarily have a thought flash in my head,
This reminds me of that glass house where Jess and I-

As soon as I take a seat, the company’s lawyers enter the room along with my staff, and we all move forward with our formal introductions. I’m fidgety and nervous, and my goal is to get out of there in fifteen minutes flat.

“Thanks for organizing this meeting, Attorney Langford,” I begin.

Attorney Langford, who is a beautiful woman, smiles warmly at me. “I’ve checked with Mr. Cain and the rest of the team assigned to this venture, and they’re okay with all of your suggested changes,” she confirmed.

I nod my head in relief. “Thank you,” I respond.

There is a prolonged silence as everyone passes the documents around to review and then they are passed on to me for signature. I confer with my lawyer to make sure that we are in agreement with everything. He lets me know that everything is fine to sign. A notary public is on hand to witness the signatures. Holy Cow. The amount of papers to sign is so staggering, it takes us twenty more minutes to sign on the line and initial every page. Once we are finally done, I look around the room and shake hands with everyone.

Attorney Langford takes my hand warmly and says, “It was so nice to meet you, Mrs. Ailey. Let me personally escort you back to the lobby.”

I nod and get up to leave. And in walks Jesse.

Jesse saunters in and everyone is scrambling to pack up to leave the conference room. He has a serious look on his face, and I am suddenly conscious of the fact that I am in a skirt and four-inch heels.

“Mr. Cain,” Attorney Langford addresses him. Jesse walks around the room to shake everyone’s hand.

When he gets to me, I reach out my hand and he pulls me into a hug. “Hi, Isa.” He turns to everyone else and says, “Thanks, everyone, for coming. I trust that we’re done here? Jennifer, were we able to discuss location with Is-, Mrs. Ailey? You probably haven’t yet, but I decided we should scope out the Greenbelt location for the franchise.”

Jennifer, a.k.a. Attorney Langford, is nodding her head.

“Jesse, that’s our most marketable location. That wasn’t up for consideration at all,” I respond.

“Setting up the restaurant there will guarantee its success. Let’s discuss this more, Isa.” And as he says this, he waves his hand as if to dismiss everyone else in the room. They all scurry out of his sight. “Please, Isa, have a seat. Let’s spend a few more minutes talking about this.” He sits at the head of the table and pulls out the seat to his right and offers it to me.

I feel snowballed and unprepared. My staff has left the premises.

“Jesse, I’m not prepared to discuss this today. I need to pull some numbers and get back to you. Let me take a look at some of the properties we have offered and I’ll call you while I’m in the States. I—”

He interrupts me. “God, you look amazing, Iss.”

I’m dumbfounded, but I’m no longer the girl without any quick comebacks. “You don’t look so old yourself, Jesse. Okay. Let’s keep this on track. I might be able to propose—”

“I don’t want to talk about that now, Iss. How’ve you been? I heard you were moving back.” He places his elbow on the table and leans in.

“I need to help manage my mom’s business now, and Alex is going to handle his dad’s affairs,” I answer.

Jesse stares off into the distance, contemplative and deep in thought. He absentmindedly nods his head. There is an uneasy lull in the conversation, so I look around the room and focus once again on the beautifully framed prints on the wall.

“Jess, that house is amazing! Do you know the owner?” I ask, a tad bit too excitedly.

He pauses for a moment. “It’s mine. I had it built three years ago.”

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