My wife and I divorced after I discovered she was having an affair. Unfortunately, due to my struggle as a freelance writer, and her success as a former model, she won custody over our two daughters. During that time, I got bi-weekend visitation rights. This lasted for two years, when our girls Fiona and Mati were sixteen and seventeen at the time, respectively. Now they are eighteen and nineteen, free to emancipate themselves from my wife and live with me if they chose. Due to my continuing career struggle, I advised against this, for their wellbeing. So, Mati stayed with Fiona and their mother, and her new partner, indefinitely.
A month after Fiona's eighteenth birthday, I received word that my grandfather had passed. He was a renowned, retired archeologist and museum curator. Most of his wealth had been accrued from a trust fund established by his grandfather, a successful psychologist. He had died from a heart attack after living years in secrecy with heart problems. We weren't close, except when I was a kid, before graduating and seeking a creative career. Despite this, I was contacted about his will, and learned that he had entrusted his entire estate to me, including an interesting trust fund: a monthly 'allowance' taken from an off-shore account, of five-thousand dollars. In the will were the words "I always respected your passionate drive, and wish upon you a life of fulfillment to compensate for my absence."
I was touched, and beyond grateful.
They say money can't buy happiness, but...
Let's just say, I didn't hesitate moving into the massive six-bedroom, three-bathroom manor, complete with a backyard garden, maze, and pool, a large fountain in front and a cobblestone courtyard, occupying an eight-acre estate. The will was for the house, property, and everything on it—including the soft-top convertible Jaguar coupe in the spacious garage. All utilities were paid, and a groundskeeper would tend to his duties every weekend.
Almost without reluctance, I contacted Mati directly, and gave her the great news. My wife was incredibly upset, but powerless, while my daughters both eagerly moved in with me, spiting her for betraying my trust while favoring my loyal, if not coddling, treatment of them instead.
Once I got settled, I stayed at the house for five days alone, before the girls came over. I sent a limo for them, since I had that kind of money now. The estate was some thirty miles from where I lived, and about a five-minute drive to the nearest neighbor, also a large house, but comparably lacking. The estate's gently curved driveway alone is a mile and a half long. As for the distance between here and my ex-wife's, where the girls were being picked up from, I deduced a forty-minute ride.
I took advantage of this time and tidied up the best I could.
Given the amount of space in the house, I didn't have to do much work. It had been exceptionally cared for before my grandfather's unfortunate passing, which occurred at a golf course two hours away. As for tending to my own things, when I initially moved in I had most of it taken upstairs to the master bedroom, but the rest of it straggled by the foyer. In the last five days, I had plenty of time to finish arranging and unpacking, but instead I spent the days exploring and the nights lounging.
I couldn't help but feel like this was a miraculous gift from the heavens, if not literally, and not only a way to reconnect with the only people I love in this life, but to help decimate my writer's block, too.
My phone chimed in my khaki shorts' pocket. I set the box I was carrying upstairs down on the steps in front of my shins and unearthed the phone.
'Omg daddy a limo!? This is crazy. You're the best. See you soon. LY!'
It was from Mati. I smiled and replied:
'Only the best FOR the best. Can't wait. LY2'
What followed was an angel-face emoji paired with a hugging one.
