Page 139 of Last Letters to Ara
The requests for custom pieces haven’t stopped flooding in either, since that day the starlight dress went viral. Ivy volunteered to help me make some content for my page, while showing me everything I can do with the platform, and it’s resulted in so many requests that my time is completely booked up until March of next year.
Once I realized it wouldn’t be stopping, I helped Jane find a new manager who can be there more time throughout the week. I still go in every weekend for the workshops, the budding artist community being my baby and all.
“You’ll be happy to know I had to throw away my couch,” I say with a chuckle. A moment later, I feel a warm presence surrounding me, and another tear escapes as I clutch the letter even closer. Maybe I’m imagining it, or maybe our connection is one that goes beyond the mere physical universe.
“And look, I’ve kept something alive.” Oscar (like the grouch) sits in the corner, glaring at me. I’ve come to love the little cat with my entire heart, despite dirty looks being his love language. He may never be the cat that cuddles, but I’d jump in front of a bus for that cranky little thing. “I guess I’ll open this now.”
Dear Ara,
There is something you should know, something I’ve been saving, wanting to make sure that I gave it to you at the right time. I needed you to be ready for it.
My lawyer should have contacted you long ago and arranged the inheritance be organized for you. I know I’m not a millionaire, but I’ve worked hard to make sure you would be set up, that amidst your grief and battle against life, you wouldn’t have to worry about making ends meet.
My stomach clenches, regret weighing on me. Not because I want his money, but because Dad worked hard for something to leave to me, and I brushed it off. The money never meant anything to me, but I didn’t realize what it meant for him, the reassurance that I would be provided for.
My lawyer was to keep this next part a secret until now, when you come to him with this note from me. There is another account, which is significantly more cushy. I put it together for when you’d be ready to (hopefully) use it as an investment into your future.
Whether that means you want to use it for real estate, to invest in something you believe in, or to fund your designs, there will be enough there to do it. My only request is that you use that clever mind of yours and use it well. There is enough there that I would recommend contacting one of my colleagues at the office to help you manage it.
It may be wishful thinking that you could use this money to take a chance on yourself, but part of me wonders whether it isn’t. You could be ready by now. I can only hope these letters have helped to guide you, helped you to overcome your grief and helped you to grow.
Your task for this month is to visit my lawyer’s office with this letter and gain access to the account. He will know what to do. What you decide to do with it afterward is in your hands.
Don’t be afraid to believe in yourself, Ara.
The only limits you face are the ones you set for yourself.
And I hope you tell those limits to get fucked.
Love,
Dad
My laugh is accompanied by the salty taste of tears, and I’m reminded of the moment that Dad fell in love with that phrase when he saw it on a bumper sticker. He rarely used it, but when he did, it became the highlight of my week.
I run my fingers through my hair, knowing I can’t put it off any longer. Taking my phone off theMaking Magicsetting, I open the contact of my dad’s attorney and press call.
It only rings a couple times before a disbelieving, “Sar- er, Ara? Ara Scott?”
I cringe at how many times this poor receptionist must have tried to contact me for her to remember my number and chosen name.
“Yep, this is Ara.” I sigh. “I’d like to make an appointment with William Scott’s lawyer for as soon as possible.”
“Absolutely.” Her mouse clicks a few times. “He actually had a cancelation for this afternoon, would you like to come in today?”
No. “Yes, that would be great. I can be there in an hour.”
“We will see you soon, then, Miss Scott.”
• • •
“Ara Scott.”
“Yes, lovely to meet you, Ara.” It took ten months to get me to step foot inside this office, it’s not lovely to meet me. She definitely hates me, but she’s paid not to say it. “Second door on your right, he is expecting you.”
The office is one of those old-fashioned ones, and probably hasn’t had a face lift since the 90s. Everything is in perfect condition and beautifully maintained, but not even remotely modern. The hallway is lined with wooden doors featuring glass windows and bamboo blinds.
Warner Woods, Attorney At Law
