Brenda & Ian Ch. 01

"Morning Ian," she said, glancing away from the paper.

"Morning," he mumbled back. "You been up long?"

"Oh, an hour or so," she sighed. "I slept for a while, but I woke up around ten-thirty and couldn't sleep anymore. I called Uncle Roger about funeral arrangements, but he didn't want to talk about it until this afternoon."

"Okay, that's at four, right?"

"Yeah." She went back to her newspaper.

"How are you doing?" he asked as he leaned against the doorway.

"Oh," she sighed again, "tired, sad, angry....you name it and I'm feeling it. It would be so much worse if you weren't here. There's just so much going on in my head right now."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Maybe later, maybe after we see Uncle Roger or sometime this evening."

"Okay."

"Can I get you something to eat? I was about to make myself a salad."

"A salad would be great. I"ll give you a hand with it."

Brenda shooed him away, "No, no, you just sit down. It'll only take a few minutes."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Brenda got up from her chair and busied herself with the salads as Ian watched her. She was wearing a dark blue robe and pink slippers. Her hair was tousled and out of place, but in Ian's mind, she was still very pretty. He thought about complimenting her, but he knew that it would be grossly inappropriate, not because she was his cousin, they joked all of the time about dating each other if they weren't related, but because of her sadness and grief.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked her as he came back to reality.

"I'll have some tea. There's a pitcher in the fridge."

Ian went to the refrigerator and took the pitcher from the shelf. It was cold, so no ice was needed. "Where are the cups?" he asked as he searched the cupboards in front of him.

"Above the sink," Brenda answered as she placed the salads on the table. Ian brought the glasses and tea to the table seconds later. Brenda brought out dressing and forks and they sat down to their lunch. They ate and drank in silence, not really tasting the food, merely consuming it. She had already found an article in the paper about the accident. Apparently, they rounded a corner too fast for the rain-slickened street and lost control, ramming a tree and flipping over. As she read it, anger built up inside her. Dad always drove too fast, she thought bitterly. Frowning, she had put the paper aside before she became too emotional again.

After a while, Ian put down the section of paper that he was reading and pushed back his chair, dishes in hand. "I'll clean these up," he said.

"Just rinse them and I'll put them in the dishwasher later," Brenda replied.

"Okay." Ian did as requested and headed back to his room for a shower.

Brenda read for a little while longer before she gathered up the dishes and put them in the washer, noting that there wasn't enough for a full load. She closed the door without turning on the machine.

Brenda went upstairs and started a hot bath for herself in the main bathroom. She poured in some soap and watched the bubbles build. Once the tub was filled to her satisfaction, Brenda took off her robe and nightgown and slipped into the steamy bath.

Just as she was relaxed, a knock came from the door. The door knob moved and the door opened a crack.

"Hey Brenda...?"

"Don't come in!" Brenda said, wide eyed. "I'm not decent."

"Yeah, so what's your point?" Ian joked. He immediately felt bad joking with her, forgetting for a second about her parents.

"Ian!" she said sternly, although she wasn't angry. She was glad that he was teasing her. It almost made her forget. "What do you need?"

"A hair dryer."

"You don't have enough hair to need a dryer," she replied, noting his blond crew cut.

"I'll only need it for a minute. I don't want to catch a cold."

"There's one in the closet in here, right by the door. Come in, but don't you dare get too close!" Brenda scooted down in the tub so that the bubbles covered everything from the neck down.

Ian opened the door with nothing but a thick towel around his waist and closed it behind him. Looking at his cousin almost submerged, he said, "I was hoping for a show."

"You wish," Brenda said from above the bubbles.

Ian rummaged through the closet for a few seconds without finding the dryer. "Where is it? I don't see it?"

"Keep looking. It should be there."

"Ah, here it is," he said as he pulled it from a remote corner.

"It's about time," Brenda teased, "anyone else would have found it a lot sooner."

"I figured that if I messed around long enough, you'd have to come out and help me look," he teased back, happy to be able to banter with her, if only for a few seconds.

"You wish."

"Anyway, I'll return it when I can get a better view!"

"I'll keep the door locked," grinned Brenda.

"Details, details..." he said as he opened the door and left the bathroom.

Brenda was disappointed that Ian didn't return the dryer while she was still in the tub. She toweled off quickly, pulled on her robe and went left and across the hall to Ian's room where he was putting on his shoes. He looked up as she entered.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Yes, much." She moved to him, leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," she said as she straightened.

"For...?"

"For helping me laugh and to forget for a little while," she replied. She looked at her cousin, dressed in jeans and a dark blue dress shirt. He looked really handsome, she thought, although she wished he would let his perpetual crew cut grow out. He'd had it since his sophomore year in high school while playing baseball and kept it. She teased him unmercifully in hopes that he would let it grow, but to no avail. She didn't know if she'd ever get used to it because she always thought he looked better with it grown out.

"You're welcome," Ian replied softly, breaking Brenda's stare. "You okay?" He looked at her, puzzled, trying to figure out what was on her mind.

Brenda blinked and stammered, "Oh yeah, fine. I need the dryer." She pointed to the dryer at his side.

"Sorry, I forgot," he said as he handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said as she left for her own room, Ian's eyes following her as she walked away.

Brenda finished drying and combing her hair and got dressed in a pair of blue dress pants and a yellow sweater. After she applied some pale lipstick, she grabbed her purse and went downstairs. Ian's eyes were fixed on a basketball game when she appeared. "You ready to go?" she asked.

"It's pretty early, we've got time," he replied.

"I want to pick up my car first."

"That's right," he said, smacking his forehead with his palm, "your car's still at the hospital." He turned off the TV with the remote. "By the way, there's about five messages on the machine. I saved them for you."

"Thanks. Two of them must be new. I'll answer them when we get back."

Brenda locked the door after they stepped out into the warm, breezy, March afternoon. It had been warmer than usual and they didn't need jackets. Ian let her in the passenger side first and then let himself in. The car started easily and Ian placed it in gear. Noting the silence, Ian asked Brenda, "Do you want to listen to some music?"

Brenda shrugged indifference, so Ian chose a classical station. He kept it on a low volume and they were on their way. The ride to the hospital was quiet; perhaps Brenda was reliving the previous evening. Ian didn't say anything, thinking that small talk would only make matters worse for her. When they arrived, Brenda sighed deeply, her car where she left it. She looked down at her hands as tears started to spill down her cheeks. Ian parked next to her car and switched off the engine. He reached over to hold her hand, but before he could, Brenda leaned over and put her head on his shoulder and cried quietly. Trying to soothe her, he stroked her hair with the back of his hand. Nothing was said for a few minutes.

A few minutes more passed before she stopped crying and straightened up in the seat, leaving Ian's shoulder bare and a little damp.

"Got a kleenex?" she whispered.

"Yeah." Ian reached behind him in the back seat and produced a small box and handed it to Brenda. She took one and tried to hand the box back to him. "Keep it," he said.

Brenda started to open the door to go to her own car. Ian touched her arm and she looked back at him.

"You okay to drive?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she insisted. "I've got to get this car out of here. I don't want to come back here ever again. It hurts too much."

"Okay." Ian understood. He thought for a second and said, "Where's the office building?"

"Corner of Main and First. There's a parking lot right next door," she said as she stepped out.

"Okay, I'll see you there."

"Just follow me, I won't lose you." Brenda then shut the door and went to her car.

They arrived at her parent's office building in less than ten minutes and they were early. Brenda took his hand and they went inside together. "It's on the second floor," she said as they entered the elevator. Ian would have preferred taking the stairs for a one story flight, but he said nothing.

When the doors opened, a large window with the stenciled name of "Barringer, Rigsby, and Barringer LPA's" stared at them. They crossed the hall and Brenda pushed the glass door open. They stepped into an ornately furnished office lobby. There were about seven or eight chairs and each were richly upholstered. The receptionist's desk was a dark, heavy wood, possibly oak, and was circular with an opening at one side. No one was at the desk, so Brenda led Ian to the office area. Before they had gotten too far, an elderly gentleman emerged from a room. His eyes brightened as he saw Brenda approaching.

"Brenda, my dear..."

Brenda let go of Ian's hand and rushed to him. "Uncle Roger," she said as she hugged him.

"I am so, so, sorry, my dear. They were like my own children," he said as he returned the embrace.

"I know," she replied in a choked voice.

Looking over her shoulder at Ian, he asked, "And who is this fine lad? Another beau?"

Brenda released Roger and introduced Ian. "No, he's not a beau, Uncle Roger. This is my cousin, Ian Nicks, my best friend and savior. He's been with me since the accident. Ian, this is Roger Rigsby, mom and dad's partner."

The two exchanged handshakes and Roger said, "A fine young man you are, looking after our Brenda. You ever need anything," he said sternly, pointing his finger at him, "you talk to me!"

"Yes sir," Ian said.

"Come, let us go to my office where we can chat for a spell, shall we?" Roger motioned for them to follow and they did. When they entered his office, Ian was amazed at the amount of books that lined the walls. One entire wall was nothing but books. Roger indicated for them to take a seat and they did. The chairs were upholstered in red velvet and were extremely comfortable. "May I get you a refreshment?" he asked, still standing. Brenda and Ian both shook their heads. "Ah, fine then," he said as he eased himself into his chair behind his desk.

He leaned forward with his arms folded in front of him. "My dear, how are your studies coming along?"

"They're coming along fine, Uncle Roger, we're on spring break now."

"Still studying business, I suppose?" he asked, feigning disgust.

"Yes, of course, you know that," Brenda giggled lightly.

"You have a fine mind that is wasting away on business and money. You have a fine criminal mind, my dear, and the law beckons you!" He pointed at Ian, "And you, young man, what is your choice of study?"

"Veterinary science, sir," Ian answered cautiously. He wasn't sure about Roger just yet.

"A good choice, my lad," he roared his approval. "Maybe you can teach this girl something and get her away from money and finance, eh?"

"I don't think that I could ever get Brenda to do something that she didn't want to do," Ian replied.

Roger nodded in agreement, "How true, how true." He leaned back in his chair. "I have only a few things to discuss with you, my dear," he said to Brenda. "To put your mind at rest, your parents pre-arranged their funerals and everything is in the works, so to speak. Morris Funeral Chapel is in charge of the arrangements and are waiting for you to go over the necessary details, such as date and time, clothing, flowers, etc."

"What about...." Brenda interrupted.

"About what, my dear?"

"What about...their...mom and dad...are they...at the funeral home?"

"Yes, my dear, they are there," he said gently. "I made the arrangements as soon as you called. I also have copies of the death certificates so that their insurances policies and other things can be activated."

"How...? I don't understand...I'm a little overwhelmed, I guess," Brenda said softly.

"I have read their will many times over today, and they were very specific as to making this as easy for you as possible. I will read you the will in it's entirety at a later time after the funeral, but know that they had your best interests at heart. I will guide you through all of the legalities and such. You will have the final say in everything, my dear."

"Final say?" she asked, clearly confused.

"My dear," he said patiently, "you are the only heir to their estate. Of course, they wanted certain people to have items and this has been specifically spelled out. However, everything else is up to you."

"I see," Brenda said, finally starting to understand what Roger was saying.

Roger got up and poured water into three glasses and set them on his desk. He gave one to Brenda and Ian and took one for himself. He took a sip from his glass, then said, "I work with many financial advisors and they can help you in that area. Perhaps you would want to work with some of the people who handled your parents accounts. We can discuss that later. You may know enough from your studies to not need any financial advise. We will see." Roger put his glass down on his desk and eased himself back into his chair.

"Right now," he continued, "I am more interested in your well-being. How are you going to handle this?"

"I'm doing okay, I guess," Brenda answered. "I don't know what I would have done without Ian. And knowing that you're taking care of things is a big relief..."

"What about school?" he asked, thinking about her difficult time after Ryan's death.

"Having spring break right now is a blessing. I think I'll be okay when it starts again. I think I'm in a better frame of mind right now, or maybe I'm still in shock. I'm not sure." She reached for Ian's hand and squeezed it.

"Quite possible," he replied, looking out the window. Brenda waited for him to say more, but he remained silent.

"When do the funeral people want to see me?" she asked.

Roger turned his attention back to her. "They said that they would be able to see you any time before eight o'clock, but they wanted to be called ahead of time so that they would have time to prepare the paperwork."

"I see." Brenda looked down at her hands that were holding the glass. She played with the intricate cuts of the glass with her thumb. "I think that I should like to see them now, but I'd like to spend some time in my parents' offices. Is that okay?"

"Of course, it is, my dear. Please take your time," he said gently. "I will call them whenever you are ready."

"Fine." Brenda scooted her chair back and put her glass back on the stand and Ian did the same. As Brenda led the way out of the office, she looked back at Roger, who was still seated at his desk.

"How will this affect the practice?" she asked.

"Oh," he sighed, "we will get behind a little bit until I can interview some candidates, but your parents are simply irreplaceable. I hope you know that."

"I do," she replied softly.

"I should like to speak to Mr. Nicks for a few minutes, if you do not mind, my dear."

Puzzled, she said, "Of course not. I'll be down the hall." Ian looked at her and she shrugged her shoulders. She left the office and closed the door behind her.

"Mr. Nicks," Roger said as Ian turned to him, "have a seat, please." Ian took the same chair that which he had sat in previously.

When he was seated, Roger asked, "How is she, really?"

"Okay, I guess," he replied, "considering the circumstances. I mean, she's really strong. I would be a total basketcase if I were in her shoes. She cries a lot, but other times, she's pretty calm."

"I want you to know that Brenda is like a grandchild to me. I have never had any of my own, no children either. This practice is my family," Roger explained. It hurts deeply to know that Harry and Alice are dead." Roger bent his head down in reverence. "Not only were they fine attorneys, they were wonderful people, too, the best. Brenda is the best of both of them." Roger stopped to sip on his water.

"I want you to be with her when the will is read." Ian didn't know if this was a request or an order. "It will be an upsetting experience for her, although most of it is good."

"What do you mean, upsetting?" Ian asked.

"I can tell you none of the details. I can see that she trusts you and loves you. That is evident. You must be with her that day, understand?"

"Of course," Ian replied, totally confused, "I'll be here, but can't you give me something to go on to prepare her?"

"No, I am afraid not. It is all confidential until she hears it for herself."

"All right. I really don't know what to say or do."

"Just be there for her, no matter what. She will need you more than ever before."

"You're starting to scare me!" Ian said. "Is it going to be that bad?"

"I am just not sure how she will take it. That is all that I can say. Do not, I repeat, do not breathe a word of this conversation to her," he added sternly.

"Yes sir," Ian said.

"Good," Roger said, smiling warmly. "You are a fine person and I look forward to seeing you again."

"Yes sir."

"Go find your cousin, I think she will need some comforting," Roger said, dismissing him.

"Yes sir," Ian replied. He turned and left the office quickly. His head was swimming. What could be so bad that it would upset her that much? Ian had no idea why she couldn't find out now instead of later. What was he to do if she wanted to go without him? He thought that to be a remote possiblity, but it could happen. He didn't know who else would be there, maybe relatives from her mom's side of the family, he guessed. Ian went down the hall and looked in various offices until he found Brenda in her mother's office.

It was not as large or ornate as Roger's, but it was quite nice. Brenda was sitting behind the desk deep in thought, not noticing Ian as he entered. He knocked lightly on the door and Brenda looked over at him.

"Hey cuz."

"Hey. Did you and Roger have a nice talk?"

Ian hesitated for a split second. "Oh, it was fine. He's a nice guy." Ian hoped that he wouldn't blow it and let her suspect something.

"He's worried about me, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is."

"He needn't worry. I'll be okay."

"I know you will."

Brenda looked around the office. "You know, mom and I used to have a lot of talks in here, mostly about school and boys." Brenda smiled at the thought. "I'm going to miss that so much. She was very fond of you, did you know that?" Ian shook his head. "She was, really, and dad too."

"I didn't know," Ian said, a bit surprised.

"Yeah, even when dad and your mom feuded, he always had good things to say about you. It's funny, though, do you know what they were mad at each other about?"

"I haven't a clue. Mom's never spoke about it."

"Dad never discussed it. I wish they weren't enemies. Now it's too late. It's such a waste." Brenda sighed and fought back tears. "I really don't want to go," she continued. "I expect mom to come through that door at any second with a cup of coffee in one hand and her briefcase in the other. I'll never see that again. We'll never have talks in here anymore. I miss her so much! How will I go on without her?" she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks.