“NOT FOR LOVE NOR MONEY”
It was her silent affirmations that kept her from going completely
insane. Clarrisa threw in a few ‘Hail Marys’ and ‘I Ams’ to quell her trembling
body. There was nothing she hated more than funerals .A dozen showers would not
get remove the smell of perfumed flowers blended with the odor of death that
permeated her clothing and hair. And she had yet to begin to
grieve.
Great Aunt Clara had passed
away a week ago today -- a feisty, eccentric ninety-year-old woman who wore
floppy straw hats in summer and colorful felt hats in winter. She had been a handsome, woman, yet she never
married. “Can’t find a man who can put up with me,” she often said. This was probably true as she was a strong
woman who could not tolerate weakness in people, nor did she “suffer fools
gladly.”
Clarissa, her namesake, had spent summers with her, along with her cousin
Sebastian. They were the same age, but Clarissa considerd him a nerd, for they
had nothing in common. He was always
tripping over his own feet and stumbling over his words. He drove Clarissa
crazy.“Be nice to Bastian,” Great Aunt Clara chided. “Some day you may see him in a different
light.”
“I‘d rather not see him at all,” Clarissa replied. Sebastian set her teeth on
edge.
Great Aunt Clara just smiled
that elusive, mysterious smile of hers, which spoke volumes, none of which her
great-niece grasped.
As in many families, a rift grew between Great Aunt Clara and her niece,
Clarissa’s mother, which put an abrupt halt to summer vacations. Clarissa wrote
to her from time to time as she grew up. She was an only child and writing to
her beloved great aunt was a catharsis for a lonely young girl. She kept the
lettters from her wise old aunt in a special ribboned box, topped by a small,
floppy straw hat.
Clarissa was certainly not expecting to find an attorney knocking on her
door a few days after the sparsely attended funeral.
“Clarissa Chisholm, I presume?” he asked, as she let him into her studio
apartment.
“Yes. What can I do for you?”
“Ah Miss, it is,” I am happy to announce, “what I can do for
you.”
Clarissa thought he
looked like a butler right out of an English gothic novel.
“I think it best if you sit down, Clarissa, as what I have to say may
come as somewhat of a shock.”
Clarissa sat.
“It seems, my dear that your great aunt Clara had quite a legacy and she
saw fit to leave a large part of it to you.”
“To me? Why? I havn’t seen my aunt since I was in my
teens, except at her funeral. And what could she possibly have to leave me other
than some old jewelry that I really would treasure?”
“Oh that too, but much more. I am happy to inform you that your great
aunt has left you five million dollars.”
Clarissa fainted.
When she came to, the elderly attorney was fanning her with a magazine
and atempting to force a sip of water between her pale lips. Clarissa sputtered and sat
up.
“Okay, say that again and I will not faint this time. I
hope.”
The attorney repeated his littany and while Clarissa did not faint, she
did sink into the pillows of her over-stuffed sofa and sighed. “This is just a
dream.”
“No,” the lawyer insisted. “It is
quite true , but there is one stipulation.”
“I knew it! Always a catch. I have to join a nunnery,
right?”
“No, no, my dear, nothing so dreadful as that. You have to marry your
second cousin, Sebastian Logan, within one year to receive your inheritance.” He
wiped his face with a white pristine hankerchief, as if this was as taxing for
him as it was for Clarissa.
“Sebastian! I haven’t seen him since he was a nerdy kid and we never got
along then.”
“That is the stipulation, Miss. I suggest, if I may, that you reaquaint
yourself with this young man. A lot of money is at stake. I took the liberty of
getting his address, and phone number. I added his e-mail address as well.” The
attorney was sweating freely now.
“Sometimes it is easier to write someone to renew former
ties.”
“What torture!” Clarissa said, tosssing a throw pillow across the room.
She stood up and went to the
refrigerator to get the poor lawyer some iced tea, muttering to herself
all the way. “Five million dollars to marry a dork I detested. What a cruel joke
Great Aunt Clara played on me. I thought she loved me.”
“I know nothing of the circumstances,” the attorney said, gratefully
gulping the cold drink. “These are the terms and they are ironclad. I will leave
you the documents and when you have proof of marriage to this nerd, er,
Sebastian, call me and your inheritance will be released. Goodbye, my dear,” he
said, handing her his business card,”and good luck to you. Sometimes nerds grow
up to be . . . well, less nerdy.”
Sure, thought Clarissa, words of wisdom spoken by a nerdy attorney.
Later, as she sipped a cheap chianti red wine, she said out loud ,” Wow! What am
I going to do?”
Like Scarlett O’Hara, she decided to worry about it
tomorrow.
Clarissa waited a few days
and then e-mailed Sebastian. She was surprised at his prompt reply. No mention was made of the five million
dollars. Sebastian explained that he had
been in Europe at the time of Great Aunt
Clara’s funeral. As they chatted back
and forth over the internet, she learned that he had become, basically, a
“rocket scientist.” for a major medical research company. His articles were
documented in prominent scientific archives and journals. Still a nerd, Clarissa thought, but at least
a successful one. They decided after weeks of e-mailing, to meet for
dinner.
Clarissa dressed in a sultry black low-cut, short dress, not so much to
entice Sebastian, but to show off her ginger-haired, green-eyed beauty. She was unprepared for the suave, tall,
incredibly handsome man in the Calvin Klein navy blue suit. Surely this could not be the nerdy Sebastian
standing inside her door.
“Clarissa.” He smiled and
Clarisssa melted from the beauty of it. “It is so nice to see you again. You
have grown into a lovely woman.”
“Thank you. You have changed quite a bit as well.”
He led her to his Rolls Royce and drove them to a charming restaurant
overlooking the Chesapeake Bay .
“Did an attorney by any
chance contact you concerning our Great Aunt Clara?” she asked, after finishing
lobster bisque too scrumptious to describe.
“Yes Clarissa, the same day
he visited you. Quite a dilemna we have,
no?” His warm brown eyes, no longer framed by the tortoise-shelled glasses of
his youth, watched her with a quizzical stare.
“So you know the
stipulations, then?”
“Certainly. I was also
offered five million dollars if I married you. Not likely to happen.”
Clarissa bristled at his
remark. “Well we do have a year to catch up with each other.” Surely this hunk
of a man could not be her annoying cousin.
“So we do, and since I was
adopted, our blood lines are compatible. But I earn enough to keep myself happy
and I would never marry for money.”
“Neither would I,” Clarissa
added. “But where would our money go?”
“To a good charity, I
presume. I can live with that. Now, Clarissa, as much as I have enjoyed your
company, I must take you home now. I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
“No neeed to take me
home. I am going to enjoy the ambience
for a while and indulge in an after dinner apertif. Please do not let me detain you.” Her voice
was cool, her words clipped, as she dismissed him.
“Are you sure you don’t
mind?”
“Of course not. Go now. We
can do this again sometime.”
“Perhaps,” he said, and
giving her a five million dollar smile, left her to her own devices.
Clarissa’s head reeled from
the week’s events. Five million dollars if she married a former nerd, who had
tranformed into a handsome Prince Charming, who showed no feelings or interest
in her on a romantic level. What would
Scarlett O’Hara do? Clarissa had no
idea, but she did have one whole year to claim a fortune. And a man she found
she desired. It struck her with with
startling honesty that the man seemed more desirable than the money. Clarissa shivered as a chill swept over her.
Great Aunt Clara’s spirit seemed to brush over her and she was sure she heard a
long contented sigh.
Portrayed with great feeling, Micki. I do so agree about the smell of funeral lilies!
ReplyDeleteLove it, Micki! I am so there with both of them and my brain is totally engaged in "finishing" their story.
ReplyDeleteJennifer, thanks for stopping by. I hope you come again and view more of my works, especially the funnier ones.
ReplyDeleteSandy, this is flash fiction, runs about 1000 wds. It's done. Everyone wants an ending but this is it. We have to assume with her grandmother, and her determination, she'll get her man. And no, I can't make this into a novel--my pen just stops at 1000 wds or so. Thx for coming by, my most loyal fan!
Hugs Micki
This blog post is great Micki.
ReplyDeleteI loved reading it - and now it keeps my thoughts circling. It kind of left me thoughtful and a little confused... is that how it should be - or am I only too dumb to understand the real meaning?
Raani,
ReplyDeleteIt's a flash fiction piece and the ending is assumed. Read my answers above and you'll see what I mean. But while most people love this one, they all want more--and I don't have any more lol,
Thx,
Hugs, Micki
I WANT TO READ SOME MORE!!!!!! Where is the rest of this interesting novel. That is not fair!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteHi Micki,
I am sitting here laughing at how you drew me in and then left me in the cold. This story is fantastic and I mean that from my heart. I enjoyed reading it and was ready to move on as it stopped.
Great job my dear and please finish the story. I want to read how everything turns out.
Love you.
Ciao,
Patricia
Ha! Keep it going, Micki! YOU HAVE A WINNER HERE!!!
ReplyDeletePat and Deirdre, this is a flash fiction piece and I can't write fiction longer than 300 words, if that. I'd love to write noels but I just can't stretch them to a book. Thus my short story collection if I ever get time to put it together. Since everyone reading this says the same thing, maybe--should I get a free moment, I'll try and lengthen it.
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it!
Micki
Wonderful writing, Micki.
ReplyDeleteWould you be interested to review my first 3 novels in the Talon series?
http://www.amazon.com/Gigi-Sedlmayer/e/B003U8G4WC/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Gigi