Chapter Five
Marsha awoke early the next morning, showered, and put on her make-up as usual, making sure to use a lot of concealer for her puffy eyes. She’d spent the previous day walking on the beach and feeling heartbroken. Then, in a fit of rage, she found a big box in the garage and packed up all of Craig’s expensive suits, shirts, and ties—everything. Maybe if she didn’t have to look at his things, she’d feel better. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
Sighing as she finished styling her hair, Marsha looked at the clock. She had one business call to attend to before she drove to the gallery.
Standing in front of her living room window to soothe herself with the ocean view, Marsha took a deep breath and dialed her lawyer.
“Marsha.” Richard sounded happy to hear from her. “I’m so glad you called. What can I do for you?”
“Hi, Richard. I’ve been thinking a lot about my options for taking care of my finances, and I’d like to sell the house in Malibu. But before I can do that, I’ll need someone to send a notice to the people living in it that they have until the end of the month to vacate the premises.”
“Oh.” Richard sounded confused. “I wasn’t aware that Craig was renting it.”
Marsha heard papers being shuffled around through the line before Richard continued speaking. “There’s no mention of rental income in Craig’s income spreadsheet.”
“Yes, well, I’m pretty sure this person hasn’t been paying rent. However, Craig was aware of her. So, I’d like you to send her an official letter stating that she must be out by the end of September. If you need her name and address, you can call Jeffrey. He knows all about her,” Marsha said, her last few words terse.
“Ah, I see,” Richard said. From the tone of his voice, Marsha could tell he’d known nothing of the other woman in Craig’s life. “I’ll do that right away. It’s a sound business move to sell that house with how high property values are today.”
“Thank you, Richard. I’ll let you know once we put the house on the market and sell it,” Marsha told him.
After she hung up, she was surprised she didn’t feel better about her decision. She thought sending Craig’s secret family packing from the house would give her some level of satisfaction, but instead, she questioned whether she was doing the right thing.
“That woman is not my problem,” she said aloud to the empty house. “And neither is the boy.” A part of her wished Craig could hear her right now. Another part of her was glad he couldn’t.
Grabbing her purse and a light jacket, Marsha walked through the connecting door to the garage and to her car. She tried not to look at the large box of Craig’s clothing in the corner. Pulling out, she drove to the gallery.
Marsha arrived half an hour early, but Kristi was already there.
“Hi,” Kristi said from behind the jewelry counter. She had paperwork from the weekend in front of her. “I was just writing up the bank deposit from the weekend.”
“Did Mari and Kevin have a profitable weekend?” Marsha asked hopefully.
“They sold a few items. The Malibu seascape sold, and so did the one of the Pacific Palisade’s cliffs.”
Marsha nodded. “Jermaine and Lisa will be happy to get their commission on those. I’ll be right back.” She walked into the back room to put away her purse and jacket. Selling two paintings was good, but not good enough. They had to try to sell the larger pieces to survive.
Carrying a folder of client’s names out with her, Marsha returned to the front of the store. “Maybe we need to be a little more aggressive and start calling our regular clients about items that come into the gallery,” she said to Kristi. “Like the sculpture by Marco. Instead of waiting for someone to see it and buy it, let’s call Anita and urge her to come see it. She’s still decorating her home, and it would be perfect for her.”
Kristi frowned. “I’m sure it's a good idea, but you used to say you didn’t want to push people into buying items. Won’t we appear desperate?”
Marsha sighed. “Frankly, we are desperate. The sooner we sell this sculpture, the sooner Marco will give us another to sell. That’s good money and good business sense. We have a list of regular clients we should be constantly contacting to let them know about new items. It’s not pushy—it’s business.”
“Will you please tell me what’s going on?” Kristi asked. “After all, I’m part owner of this gallery too. We should make these decisions together.”
“You’re right,” Marsha said. “I’ve just been so worried that we might lose this place that I’ve shut you out. Our business has been running in the red since we opened it. Craig has been making up our losses by adding money to the business without my knowledge. Since I let the accountant take care of everything, all I knew was the income that came in and the commissions to the artists going out. He never told me that we ran this at a loss.”
“He should have told us,” Kristi said, sounding upset. “If we’d known, we could have tried to fix the problem. Here all along I thought we could afford to pay ourselves for working here each month. Yet the whole time, Craig was just keeping us afloat. I thought we had a successful business.”
“Welcome to my world,” Marsha said sadly. “I thought we were successful too. I had no idea. And I didn’t ask because I liked thinking we were successful. I guess I should have asked a lot of questions that I didn’t.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Marsha,” Kristi said, suddenly remorseful. “I shouldn’t be angry with Craig. After all, he’s gone and can’t defend himself. And you’ve been through so much.”
“Yes, I have,” Marsha said. “But I can’t deny that Craig put me in this position. And now I have to dig us out.”
“We have to dig us out together,” Kristi said sternly. “Don’t put this all on your shoulders, Marsha. You didn’t know what was going on, and neither did I. I should have questioned things too. I was just so happy to run this gallery with you that I wanted to believe we were doing well.”
“Yes,” Marsha said, smiling. “We’ll figure it out together. We may have to make a few hard decisions, though, but we might just be able to save this gallery. Once I sell the Malibu house, I’ll have a little extra money to keep us afloat. And then I have to decide whether to keep the Torrance insurance office or sell it to the employees. There’s so much for me to deal with.”
“Sell the insurance office?” Kristi looked surprised. “Won’t that be your main source of income?”
Marsha shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I’ll have to go over the books with the accountant. Craig was preparing to sell it to the employees before he died. I have trouble believing that he’d sell it if it was a moneymaker.”
“Goodness. You do have a lot to contend with,” Kristi said. “I’m so sorry, hon. I wish he’d left you in a better situation.”
Marsha smiled at her friend. She wished the same thing. “Well, first, let’s try drumming up business by calling and chatting up our regular clients and see if we can sell some of this artwork. At least it’s a start.”
“I’ll get right on it. Do you want to split up the list and we’ll both make some calls?” Kristi asked.
Marsha wrinkled her nose and then laughed. “I can’t wait.”
Kristi laughed along.
Marsha and Kristi spent the better part of the next two days calling clients and telling them about the wonderful artwork available that would be perfect for their homes. The calls went well, except that everyone who Marsha called went on and on about Craig’s death and how sorry they were. Many were surprised she was working so soon after the funeral. It was as if they all thought Marsha should be dressed in black and stay at home like a perfect little widow.
Marsha didn’t have the luxury to do that, despite the fact of wanting to go hide away from the world.
Besides, she was proud of herself for working through her grief by being productive. That had to count for something.
Marsha also called many of her artists to ask if they had anything new and interesting to sell at the gallery. They had always carried only the best paintings, photography, and sculptures in limited quantities because they’d wanted to be an upscale shop. But now, they needed to fill the walls and floor with as much as they dared to bring the money in.
Thursday, Marsha decided she finally had to go see the accountant about Craig’s last insurance office. She had no idea how Craig spent the money from the other two offices—maybe on that other woman—but there wasn’t much in their bank account so she figured it was all gone. If she could get enough from the sale of the Torrance office, she could put it away in a savings account for retirement. But then, she’d still need money to live on. It was all so upsetting to think about.
The accounting office was in a newer office building in Torrance. Thomas Kragen had been Craig’s accountant for as long as Marsha could remember. He was a chief partner in the Kragen, Carter, and Johannason Accounting Firm. As soon as Marsha opened the glass door to the reception room, a nicely dressed receptionist greeted her and led her back to Tom’s office.
“It’s so wonderful to see you, Marsha,” Tom said, standing up as she entered the room. Tom was a tall man in his fifties. He was slender with gray hair and brilliant blue eyes. Marsha always thought he looked more like a successful lawyer than the stereotypical accountant.
They shook hands, and she declined the offer of a beverage. After sitting down, Tom got right down to business.
“You asked me about the pending sale of the Torrance insurance office to the employees,” he said, shuffling papers on his desk. “We had just started looking into a price for the sale before Craig passed away.” He glanced at her kindly, acknowledging what a loss Craig’s death was with his eyes. “I haven’t looked into it any further since then.”
“Can you tell me if it would be more profitable for me to keep the business rather than sell it?" Marsha asked.
"Well, that would depend on whether or not you take over your husband’s current clients or spread them out to the other agents in the office,” Tom said. “Do you have an agent’s license?”
Marsha shook her head. She had always worked on the business end of the offices while Craig sold the policies.
“Well, then you’d either have to get your insurance license so you can maintain his client list, or you can own the agency and earn a small percentage from the commissions of the other agents’ sales. Frankly, I doubt if that would be as profitable as you being an agent.”
Marsha sighed. She had thought that would be his answer but wanted to make sure. “I don’t really want to work in the insurance business, so I suppose it would be better to sell. Can you come up with a price for the sale of the office and let me know?”
“I’ll be happy to,” Tom said, smiling. “I believe that would be the best move for you. I can look at the sale of the other two offices to decide on a price. Although the Torrance office doesn’t earn as much as the Monterey one did, so the price will be lower.”
Marsha stood and offered her hand to shake. “Thank you, Tom. I’ll look forward to your call.” She turned to leave but then turned back. “By the way. Do you know why Craig sold the other two offices? And did he invest that money, or was it spent on something else?”
Tom’s brows rose. “I assumed he would have discussed all this with you. I’m sorry to say, but he sold the other two offices so he could continue to live his current lifestyle. All the money went into your joint accounts. You should have access to it.”
“I see.” Marsha knew there was very little in her savings and checking accounts. “Apparently, I didn’t pay as much attention to our money situation as I should have. Hopefully, we can sell the office for a good sum.”
Tom gave her a small smile. “We’ll do the best we can. I’ll figure out a price and send it over to your lawyer to handle. There’s no sense in getting a real estate agent involved when we can handle the sale ourselves.”
“Thank you, Tom.”
He nodded. Marsha walked out of the office to her car. Once inside, she forced herself not to cry.
“Why on earth didn’t you tell me all this?” she asked the empty car. “Why would you leave me in such a financial mess?” So much had happened in such a short time, and it was all life-changing. She no longer had someone she could lean on and spend her life with. And her financial stability was suddenly pulled out from under her. It was all too much to take.
Without even thinking about where she was going, Marsha found herself at the cemetery and parked down the hill from Craig’s grave. She had no idea why she was here, but she couldn’t stop herself. Maybe if she could just stand near him and tell him how she felt, she would at least feel better.
Sighing, Marsha stepped out of her car, instantly regretting the heels she was wearing as they dug into the soft lawn. She was so intent on not tripping in her heels that she didn’t see the person standing beside Craig’s grave until she was almost upon her. Stopping in her tracks, Marsha gasped as she looked up into the face of the woman from the Malibu house.
“You!”