Chapter 17
TANIA
Carlo kisses me deeply as he heads out to work on Tuesday, saying his usual goodbye to the cats before he leaves.
I’ve been in a permanent orgasm haze since Sunday, the man has serious stamina.
It all plays back through my mind in a daydream as I drink my coffee and eat my bagel with cream cheese.
The feel of his muscles working underneath my hands, his warm skin, his spiced scent, his husky voice whispering filthy things in my ear.
He’s starting to imprint himself on my very soul.
I never realized how lonely and touch starved I was until he managed to bust through my walls and show me what a real relationship and genuine affection from a partner looks like.
It’s taken me a little time, and I still need to work on myself.
I’m starting to realize that I don’t have to do things alone, and that I’m not necessarily always better on my own.
I’ll always have an independent streak and a tendency to be a loner, but allowing myself to lean on Carlo when I need to makes me feel so much lighter.
My chest isn’t as heavy and I’m not as anxious.
He soothes every jagged edge I have, and gives me the safe space to not always be completely together or ok.
If I’m not together or ok, he is there to help hold the pieces of me and keep them safe while I lean on him.
I hope he feels like he can do the same with me.
“Yes, he’ll be right with you Miss Castillo. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”
“Oh I’m good, thank you.”
“Sure! Just let me know if you need anything, you can have a seat until he’s off his phone call.
” I sit in one of the plush leather chairs in the reception area, wringing my hands.
It’s been a couple of months since the house was left to me, and I have put this off and put this off because I don’t think I wanted to address the last thing my parents still kind of own.
If I leave it alone, there is something forever tying them to this world, in their name.
Paola and Vicente Castillo still exist in their homeland in a weird way, even if it’s only been held in estate.
Maybe it isn’t rational, but it’s something for me to hold onto when there hasn’t been a whole lot of that in my life.
It can’t just sit there, unfortunately. I need to get the deed and figure out what to do with it.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the receptionist calling my name.
“He’s off the phone, come on back with me, please,” he says, beckoning me toward the glass doors that go into a hallway lined with a huge conference room on the right and several other doors.
The second door on the left says Elias Brecht, Esq in a plaque on the door, and the receptionist gently knocks before being asked to come in.
“Mr. Brecht, your 11 o’clock is here.”
“Thanks, Adam,” he says with a smile before Adam heads back to his desk.
Then Brecht turns to me to hold out his hand.
He’s older, with silver lacing his pale blond hair and plenty of lines around his ice blue eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Castillo, thanks for coming in.
We’ll get the transfer of this house all sorted out. ”
We sit down at the little table in his office and he goes over the minutiae of the tax laws involved, Spanish real estate conventions, how capital gains works, because apparently I’m barely an adult who hardly understands any of this.
We go over a shit ton of paperwork as he breaks everything down for me in layman’s terms as best he can.
After so many signatures that my hand almost starts to cramp, I become the official owner of a charming little villa style home on the outskirts of Barcelona in Alella, Spain.
It’s overwhelming, to the point where I feel myself starting to go numb in order to stop the torrent of emotions.
I try to hold on to that calm, cold numbness so that we can get to the more simple logistical questions that I’ve had since I’ve learned about this house.
“Were you here at the firm when my parents set up their will? Do you know why they made this house sit for 20 years before I could claim it?”
“I was here, in fact, and I remember your parents. I was about 30 and just starting to work my way up through the ranks. Your mom was very pregnant with you and they had just obtained their U.S. citizenship when they first came in. We’ve been managing their estate ever since.
” Then with a sad smile he says, “I don’t think your parents were intending for it to sit for 20 years.
My understanding, as I recall, was they intended to bring you there a lot and show you where they grew up.
They wanted you to have it when you turned 25 to start creating your own memories with perhaps your own family there.
There was obviously no way for them to know what would happen and that you wouldn’t be able to access it for 20 years.
They made sure you’d be taken care of if the worst should happen, but that house was special to them. ”
“What about upkeep and paying the taxes there? How has it not been seized yet, because I certainly haven’t been paying for it.” I’m worried I’m going to be walking into a complete disaster when Carlo and I go next month.
“Your grandfather left money to your parents when he passed, and that has been held by us as part of their estate. You got a portion of that at the time per their directions, so did your grandmother obviously, but the rest has been held by us and we’ve been making the payments on your parents’ behalf mostly from the interest. That was part of what you signed today, you will now access the rest of that money for it to be used to maintain the house or whatever else you need.
” I feel my face get hot, frustration burning through me.
“There has been more money sitting for me, and this house, when I could have really used it all ages ago to set my life up. They did take care of me, but things could have been so much easier if I had access to all of this,” I tell him through slightly clenched teeth.
It’s not his fault, and not really my parents’ fault for not foreseeing how everything would play out, but my emotions are becoming a living, breathing thing as they take me over, and I’m trying my best to not fall apart right now.
His face goes completely soft and sympathetic as he reaches to gently touch my shoulder.
“They prepared for the possibility of what tragically ended up happening, but I think they were unfortunately still unprepared for it happening so soon and so suddenly. Maybe this will help. If they were still with us, they’d have given you this letter and these keys with the paperwork and deed to sign on your 25th birthday.
Your grandmother entrusted them to us when she found them after the accident, since I believe she already knew she was forgetting things at that point.
Hopefully it will explain some things.” I take the letter from him and open the envelope that has my name on it with shaking hands.
The handwritten scrawl of the letter I take out tickles something in my brain, familiar and yet foreign, like a forgotten melody.
My eyes immediately fill up as I start to read.
My dearest Tania,
As I write this, I’m watching you draw with a little divot in your brow, a concentrated purse to your lips, and intense focus in your gorgeous brown eyes that are so like mine.
You’re now 3 and growing so much every day that it’s as though I blink and you change.
Your curiosity as you continue to learn, your humor, your infectious laugh, are all awe inspiring and so full of possibility.
Goodness are you stubborn too, but you come by that honestly from both of your parents.
I could write what I want to tell you for pages and pages, but I’ll try to keep this more on the brief side.
When your father and I came to this country with your grandmother from Spain for school and then work as teenagers, we were hoping for a fresh start.
Your grandfather had just passed away and your father had no one keeping him there.
You’ve probably heard the sad story so many times by now, but it feels right to put it in writing.
Your father’s sister succumbed to cancer when she was just a little girl, and his parents were so grief stricken that they forgot they had a son.
He was severely neglected. We became best friends in school because I was so drawn to the quiet boy with sad eyes, and he became a fixture at our house more often than not.
Needless to say it grew to be so much more than friendship as we got older.
Then when we were all grieving my father after his heart attack, it was time to escape the difficult memories.
We missed Spain terribly though, and always meant to go back to visit.
The beautiful home we left is filled with so many cherished memories that counteract the bad ones, and we couldn’t bring ourselves to sell it.
Your grandfather spent years of his time and love fixing it up into the most wonderful family home, it was his pride and joy.
Your father officially moved in with me and your grandparents when we became serious, it’s where we began our life together.
It’s the house that saw us making our plans for school in the US, plans for our future, our wedding, and of course our plans to have you, our beautiful and precocious daughter.
Alella is a stunning and welcoming place, I loved growing up there.