Truth or Consequences

Chapter 9: Danny Girl

Can I see another's woe and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief and not seek for kind relief? -William Blake

"The results are back." Mr. Crawford is holding an envelope. "A 99.9% match."

Exhaling, Drake leans back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head. He levels his chin and stares. Opening the water bottle, I pour about half the fluid from the container into the glass in front of me. I take a drink and set the glass down on the table with a trembling hand, almost tipping it over.

Drake is still appraising me with a steady gaze.

His eyes divert to my mouth, and h raises a brow. He takes a deep breath and taps a thumb above his lower lip, then slides a hand under his chin. His lips, pink and full, hold my full attention.

Several seconds go by, which feel more like an eternity, then he taps his lip again, but this time, with his index finger. It's then I realize I'm chewing on the inside of my lower lip. Relaxing my jaw, I release the hold, but he continues to stare.

The muscles in the pit of my belly contract, pulling the ball of tension tighter.

Mr. Crawford clears his throat and stands, handing everyone a copy of my grandfather's will. He reads the document in its entirety.

A handful of arguments break out between Stephen and Drake. I wish I could leave - go back to the hotel - and soak in a hot bathtub with a delightful book.

I reach a breaking point when Mr. Crawford reads the provisions set forth to claim the inheritance.

"What do you mean I can't leave New Mexico?" I leap to my feet.

"Danny, sit down." Stephen reaches out.

"Don't touch me or tell me what to do. If I want to stand, I'm going to stand." I back away, gripping the back of the roller chair. "I don't understand why I have to stay here, Mr. Crawford. That's not an option, I mean, how am I supposed to do that?"

"It's a solid provision of the will. Either you and Drake stay on the property, or you both forfeit your shares," replies Mr. Crawford. "It's as simple as that."

I turn to Stephen. "Can I protest? There has to be something I can do because staying isn't an option."

Stephen clears his throat. "I'm sorry, but the outline of the will is specific and states the heirs must reside at the ranch."

"How did you not know about this?" I turn to Stephen, then to Mr. Crawford.

"The terms of the will weren't made public until today, Danny Girl," states Mr. Crawford. "John James Herrington didn't want the seal on the will broken until all parties were present, which included you."

Drake's glare makes my hair stand on end. I don't even have to look up to know he's observing me. I can't imagine living in the same town with him, let alone under the same roof. There has to be another way to settle this - some type of agreement or compromise.

Stephen takes my hand in his. "I don't see any other way. I'm sure your grandmother would've wanted you to try, but only if you felt safe."

I jerk free of his grasp. "You're not listening; I don't want to live in that house with him any more than he wants me there. And stop touching me."

"Danny Girl," Mr. Crawford says. "If you leave New Mexico now and reside elsewhere, your grandfather's estate reverts to the State of New Mexico. Do you really want the courts to decide what's best?"

Huffing, I pick up the will in front of me. "Wait. You drafted this, right?"

"Yes. I did," says Mr. Crawford.

"What the hell were you thinking? What? Did you think writing in a clause like that would be okay with people? And don't call me Danny Girl! I'm not a dog."

"The provision and bequeaths of the will weren't mine to decide. They were your grandfather's choices. They were his wishes. They were what he wanted done."

"You could leave and let the courts decide," says Stephen. "We could file a petition in court asking the provisions to be thrown out."

"That's not advisable because there's a clause in the will that states if any party contests the will, in any way, they're disinherited," Mr. Crawford replies. "All support through the estate would stop, and that includes all monies currently being paid out to you."

"You could contest that too, in the courts while living in Texas." Stephen's phone rings. He picks it up and steps out of the room.

"Make no mistake. If you leave now, you forfeit. If you file a petition in court, you forfeit. And if you forfeit your rights, you will lose any and all financial support." Mr. Crawford leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. "And let me tell you. The courts won't have the property's best interest at heart."

"But I can't."

"Part of the property houses a horse sanctuary funded by the ranch." Mr. Crawford holds up several photographs of wildlife. "The State of New Mexico won't care if these horses are dead or alive, just as long as they get what they want. Plus, if you go back to Texas, you won't have a dime to your name."

"You're not playing fair."

"Larry, if the girl leaves and it goes to court, what position can I take?" Drake leans against the table, both elbows on the smooth surface.

"Did you just call me the girl?"

Drake ignores my question. He waits for Mr. Crawford to respond.

"None. Your claim on the land and its contents relies on where you and this young lady reside, in other words. It's all or nothing. Either the two of you live on the property under the same roof or lose it all."

Drake slams a fist on the table.

The massive boom makes me jump. "Ever been told you have anger management issues?" God, I'm really not sure how much additional excitement I can take. I've had my quota for the day, possibly even for the year.

"I'm sorry, Larry." Drake rubs his chin, then stands to full height, towering over me.

"Sit down, both of you." Mr. Crawford's voice is firm but has a fatherly ring to it.

Pulling the chair away from the table, I sit.

"f**k. I can't win for losing." Drake plops on the seat next to him.

"Well, now you know how I feel." It seems the refrigerator and I finally have something in common.

It's charming to know I'm not the only one feeling that way.