A Love To Remember. Angela Weaver

a stomach virus, she’d thrown up on Noah, her best friend’s fiancé. Luckily, the dentist lived close by.

      “Mom and Noah are pushing for a wedding date. My future mother-in-law is campaigning for a baby. Dad’s taking Viagra and my older sister Kelly’s driving me nuts with some crazy diet she just started. Something about only eating foods that start with certain letters of the alphabet on certain days of the week. I can’t keep people from bothering me long enough to finish the outline for my thesis. My blood pressure is high. Might get a weave because my hair is split, broke and shot to hell. Did I mention my pregnancy scare last month? And I went to the emergency room with a panic attack. How about you?”

      “Good. Great,” she lied.

      “Where are you?” Lena asked. “I’m hearing a serious echo. Are you in some third world country? Do I need to call the UN to get you out?”

      “My godfather left me twenty-five million dollars, a mansion and his pets. I’m calling from the guest bathroom.”

      “You’re kidding?”

      “No, I’m not.”

      “You don’t seem too happy about it. I’d be over the moon. Not about your godfather dying, but about the inheritance.”

      “This is a huge life changing responsibility.”

      “Bump that. This is a once in a lifetime chance for a shopping spree. Book a ticket and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

      “It’s not my money.”

      “Not according to your uncle’s will.”

      “Lena,” Sasha softly chided.

      “Girl, you’ve just won the lottery and you’re acting like somebody died.”

      Her lips turned down. “Someone did.”

      “I’m sorry—you know I didn’t mean it that way.”

      “I know. It’s just this is really unsettling. The house is big enough for a village and I can’t imagine how to manage this money, the animals, not to mention managing the foundation.”

      “You know you’ve always had money issues.”

      “I’ve never bounced a check.”

      “Not those kinds of money issues. I mean you just don’t like money.”

      “Are you surprised? My parents started out as socialists before they moved to Cuba.”

      “Look, why don’t you put the life crisis on hold and catch the first non-stop flight to New York?”

      Sasha nibbled on the inside of her lip for a second. “I can’t. I’ve got the animals to look after.”

      “You’ve got millions. Hire the Nanny. Heck, you can probably get the Crocodile Hunter.”

      “Uncle Camden’s last wish was for me to take care of this, Lena. Although I would love to pack a bag and go, I just can’t.”

      “I understand.”

      She thought about it for a moment. “But, I was thinking since I can’t leave how about you come here? I’ve got plenty of space and you sound like you could use a break.”

      “Keep that option open. If that fiancé of mine pulls out one more wedding book, I’ll be knocking on your door.”

      She rested her chin in the palm of her free hand. “I just want to get rid of the money, but I can’t because of a clause in the will.”

      “Wait. I’m sorry, I think there must have been some static in the line. I thought I heard you say that you wanted to get rid of twenty-five million dollars.”

      “I do,” she replied.

      “You’re crazy.”

      “No, I’m simple. I take what I need. No more, no less. My father taught me that.”

      “Come on, Sasha,” Lena returned. “It’s not that bad. What can you complain about now? You’re rich.”

      “What about my career? I’ll have to cancel all of my planned expeditions. For the unforeseen future, I have to meet with attorneys on a weekly basis, I have an appointment with the vet this morning because the dog isn’t eating, I need to meet with the household staff, figure out what charity board meetings to go to and the list keeps growing. Truly this is a good example of more money, more problems.”

      There was a knock at the door. “Sasha, just a reminder that Darwin needs to be at the vet in an hour.”

      “Who was that?” Lena loudly questioned.

      “Jackson.”

      “And who is Jackson?”

      “The butler.”

      “Oh my God! I bet you have a maid.”

      “I think so,” she confessed or hoped. The idea of Jackson cleaning up her bedroom and making her bed made her uncomfortable. “I haven’t met anyone yet, but Jackson says he’ll introduce me to the cook later on today.”

      “Promise me you’ll call me after nine o’clock tonight. I’m running low on my daytime minutes.”

      She smiled. “Promise.”

      “Take care.”

      “You, too.”

      She hit the End button and placed the phone on the marble vanity. Sasha’s eyes landed on the cat lying atop one of the bathroom’s plush bath rugs. Zaza, the ex-homeless Persian that now dined on high-end cat food and pooped in a custom kitty litter pan. The cat was simple enough to take care of but, God forbid if the cat got pregnant. According to the terms of Uncle Camden’s will Zaza’s kitten would end up with an inheritance of about twenty thousand dollars apiece. Sasha sunk down on the toilet as the weight of it all felt like an anchor on her shoulders. How could she find good homes for them? She didn’t know anyone who lived in a stable enough environment to raise a cat. All of her girlfriends were over thirty and vowed never to be crazy single cat women.

      She stood and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was still a natural mess, her eyebrows had long since gone wild and her fingernails still needed attention. Her feminine pride balked at seeing Trey again.

      After digging through her suitcase for ten minutes, Sasha pulled out trousers and an ivory cable knit sweater. She put on lip gloss and pinched her cheeks.

      An image of Mr. Cell Phone, a.k.a Trey Blackfox, rose in her mind as she released the necklace clasp. She stared at the teardrop opal her father had given her on her fifteenth birthday. The last thing she needed was another distraction in her life. It was way too complex already. She especially didn’t need to waste time fantasizing about a man who couldn’t commit to her. Moreover, if she were going to pick a man based on more than good looks and charm, Trey didn’t measure up.

      Later, after she’d had enough time to make her appearance halfway decent, Sasha walked downstairs and searched the house for her newest charge. She found Darwin lying at the foot of her godfather’s bed. The sight if his head dropping down as soon as she’d opened the door about broke her heart in two.

      The Jack Russell terrier didn’t even look as she put on his leash and took him downstairs. Once they’d settled into the back of the car, Sasha caught Jackson’s look of concern in the rearview mirror. Darwin had been her uncle Camden’s constant companion. If her godfather flew first class, Darwin had his own seat. She’d met the canine when both she and Uncle Camden had been in Brussels for a wildlife preservation symposium.

      She reached down, picked up the dog and put him in her lap and held him. It was almost as if she were holding piece of her godfather. She’d always known he’d loved animals, but she’d never visited his house, or met any of his other pets. She’d been aware of them only from letters. Yet in the back of her mind there had always been the expectation that she’d