Citizen

Chapter 6 - THE EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS

Dad settled the estate claim six months after Lucille.

Not because he suddenly became generous.

Because the records were terrible.

His attorney knew it.

Mine knew it.

The probate accounting said I received money I never controlled.

The brokerage account contained a signature expert believed was not mine.

Dad had used the account as though the money belonged to him.

Final settlement:

$92,000.

Original principal.

Part of lost appreciation.

Legal fees contribution.

Written acknowledgment that I had not authorized the account transactions.

No public accusation.

No criminal complaint from me.

Some people thought I should have done more.

Others thought I was cruel for doing anything.

Neither group had to live my life.

I took twenty thousand and paid off the last of my student loans.

Ten thousand became an emergency fund.

The rest?

I created the Rose Mitchell Emerging Artists Grant.

Small.

Five grants per year.

No requirement that recipients prove art would become profitable.

That was important.

At the first award reception, Aunt Jennifer stood beside me.

“Rose would love this.”

I looked at the photographs on the wall.

Young painters.

Illustrators.

Sculptors.

A textile artist.

“I hope so.”

Marcus attended.

Not as benefactor.

As guest.

He had offered to contribute.

I declined the first year.

“I need this one to be mine.”

He nodded.

“Understood.”

The following year I allowed Sterling Foundation to match the grants.

Choice.

Sequence mattered.

After the reception, Marcus asked:

“Dinner?”

I stared at him.

“Business?”

“No.”

That changed things.

We had worked together almost a year.

Professional boundaries clean.

No flirting in meetings.

No leverage.

No rescue fantasy.

Still, I hesitated.

“You’re my client.”

“Sterling Enterprises is.”

“You own Sterling Enterprises.”

“Fair.”

He smiled.

“If that makes it uncomfortable, say no.”

No wounded ego.

No persuasion.

I said no.

Not because I disliked him.

Because I was not ready.

He nodded.

And never punished me professionally for it.

That may have been the moment I started liking him.

May you like

Annoying.

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