Page 46 of The Me I Left Behind (Tuckaway Bay #4)

Twenty-Four

Maggie laid her head back against the taxicab seat and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure when she’d been so tired.

“Mom. Don’t go to sleep. We should be there soon.”

She kept her eyes closed, half listening. “Wake me up if I doze.” She could almost see Carol rolling her eyes behind her eyelids.

“Mom!”

She shot up and looked at her. “What?”

Carol leaned closer and whispered, “Don’t leave me alone with this taxi driver. I don’t know what to do.”

Maggie didn’t understand. “What? There is nothing to do. He knows where we are going. When he stops, we get out, get our luggage, and then I pay him. Just look out the window. Tell me what Brisbane looks like.”

“Mom. Seriously? It’s dark.”

Oh. Right. “Sorry. Jet lag.”

“It’s five-thirty in the morning and it’s colder here than I thought. I should have brought a jacket.”

“It’s winter. But not like our winter. Warmer. It’s tropical winter, I think.”

“Right, Mom. Whatever.” Carol crossed her arms. “We should have gotten an Uber. I know how to do Uber.”

“Well, I don’t. You can show me next time.”

“Great.”

Maggie settled back into the seat, eyes closed again. Her daughter remained silent for a moment. Not long enough, though.

“Do you think we have enough Australian money?”

“I’m sure we are fine.”

“Do you think the hotel where we are staying is a dump?”

“No. It’s a Marriott, so…. I checked it out thoroughly online.” Please, my head is pounding. Twenty-seven hours since we left home, and I need a strong cup of coffee. Or three. “Besides, it’s within walking distance of your dad’s condo.”

“Do you think we will see a kangaroo or a koala bear? I hope so.”

Maggie smiled. “That would be nice. If we get our tasks done quickly, then I hope we can explore a little.”

Carol paused for a moment. “Do you think we are going to find anything weird at dad’s condo?”

“Weird, like, what?”

“Like, you know, sex toys.”

“Caroline Oliver!” Maggie sat up straight and glared. “What the hell?” She noticed the cab driver looking at them in the rearview mirror.

“Now you’re awake.” Carol smiled.

“Good gracious.” She had not thought of finding anything like that at Max’s condo, but what if they did? She was going to have to be mindful of where Carol was looking.

Maggie had decided the day Max died, thinking about Lilly and her child, that she had to go to Australia. She had questions, and not that she expected to get all the answers, she wondered if Lilly could fill in the blanks.

But it was the discussion about the trust in Jonathon Murray’s office a couple of weeks later that confirmed her need to go. Someone had to deal with his condo and the business in Brisbane. She figured she and Carol could make quick work of packing up his shit and shipping it home.

Fortunately, they already had their passports, and she’d applied for tourist visas for Carol and herself the day after Max died.

Those arrived within a couple of weeks. Max’s death, and dealing with his estate, might have triggered a speedy approval, but she couldn’t be sure.

Cashing in on the two round-trip airfares Max had given Carol for her graduation present made the trip that much sweeter.

Her last dig at Max—hit him where it hurts. In his pockets.

“We’re here,” the cabbie said.

They pulled into the half-circle drive thru in front of the hotel. She paid the fare, and she and Carol gathered their things and exited the cab. A bellman approached at once, securing their luggage on a cart, and leading them into the hotel and the arrival desk.

He stood back. Maggie handed him some bills.

“If you need anything, please call down to the concierge,” he said.

Nodding, Maggie turned and faced the desk clerk.

“Name please?”

“Oliver.”

She typed in some things. “Party of two, staying for five days.”

“Yes.”

“May I use the card on file?”

“Yes, please.” That felt empowering. She’d made sure she had a card in her name before they’d left.

While her credit was wonky at best, she was slowly building it.

The cash in Max’s account, even though it was still in probate, helped convince the bank that she was credible.

Maggie had to smile. Ms. Sandra Martindale, the bank manager, had been extremely helpful.

“Your room keys.” The desk clerk handed them over. “We have twenty-four-hour room service, and our restaurant opens at six-thirty. There is a buffet.”

“Thanks so much. Now, where’s the coffee?”

The desk clerk leaned closer. “Just FYI, avoid the caffeine for a while if you can, drink lots of water, get a good meal, then sleep. Hopefully, the jet lag will be gone by tomorrow morning.”

Maggie nodded and looked at Carol. “That sounds like a plan. What do you think?”

“Breakfast buffet sounds good.”

“I’m thinking room service.”

Carol eased out a slow grin. “In our jammies?”

“How else?”

The walk to the condo the next day took only ten minutes. The weather was chilly, the sun bright overhead though, and the breeze was stiff.

“Goodness Mom,” Carol said. “I’m freezing! I didn’t expect this.”

“I know. Me, either. Let’s pick up the pace to warm up.”

They arrived within minutes and headed up to the third-floor unit.

Maggie and Julia had had to dig deep into Max’s business paperwork to locate the name and address of the condo, and the corporate management details and contact information.

She’d finally reached the corporate manager several days earlier, explained the situation with Max’s death, and discussed how she could access the unit.

They’d tentatively agreed to meet this week. Maggie was to call when she got to Brisbane.

She called that morning and scheduled a meeting for one o’clock that afternoon.

The condo manager let them in the unit, provided a key along with his business card, with instructions to let him know when they were ready to discuss the termination of the lease—which he also suggested might take some negotiation with the board, since there was approximately a year left on the two-year contract.

Maggie would not worry about that now. Today’s priority was to clean out the condo and either toss, donate, or ship things back to North Carolina. She hoped the shipping would be minimal.

“You know, Carol?” She stood in the bedroom, looking at the piles of clothing they’d dumped on the bed. Why did he need so many things here? “I don’t see much to ship back. Do you? Maybe someone over here could use these clothes.”

“I wonder if Jason would want anything,” Carol said. “Dad had a couple of cool casual jackets and some local T-shirts.”

“Maybe. If you see something you think he might want, put it aside. You want anything?”

Carol scanned the piles, too. “Maybe a jacket, just because it’s chilly here. If there is one small enough.”

“Honey, we can buy you a jacket or a big sweater if you need one.”

“Cool. Let’s do that.” She scanned the items on the bed again. “I hate to say it, though, but I’m with you. Let’s donate.”

“Great. One decision made.” Maggie folded a few shirts and placed them on the bed. It was weird, but she felt nothing. No sadness, no melancholy, no grief. Perhaps the only thing she felt was a sense of finality. Closure. And that was a good thing.

She glanced at Carol, who was emptying a dresser drawer now, and wondered if she felt the same. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Carol turned back. “Why?”

“How do you feel? I mean, this was your dad’s stuff. Does it make you sad? Weird?”

Carol exhaled sharply, scanning the items on the bed. “It’s his stuff, but really, it’s like it belongs to someone else. A different person. I honestly feel nothing right now.”

“I know. Me too.” Enough said on that topic.

“Let’s organize these in like piles and get them ready to box up.”

“Yep.”

They went to work on the clothing. When finished there, Maggie stepped into the ensuite bathroom. “I’ll clean out the things in here. Not much to do but toss the personal care items. We need to get some trash bags and boxes.”

“And find out where to donate, if they will pick up, or do we have to drop off.”

“Good thinking.” Maggie glanced over the items on the countertop. Aftershave, shaving cream, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant… He lived here. Max, her husband, had lived here. And still, she felt nothing. Nothing more to do but toss every single thing.

She poked her head into the bedroom, catching Carol’s attention. “I bet there are garbage bags in the kitchen.” She bypassed the bed and moved into the large living area.

Carol nodded and continued folding clothes.

After finding a box of trash bags, Maggie removed one, then set the box on a tall dresser. “Anything we’re throwing away goes in these. I think I saw a garbage chute down the hallway when we came in.” She moved into the bathroom and made quick work of the items there.

Before long, they had loaded up three garbage bags full of items to toss. Maggie lifted two. “Let’s put these by the front door.”

“Hey, Mom. I noticed a laptop in the kitchen, on the counter. I’ll get online and see if there are places close by where we can donate the rest of this stuff.”

“There’s a laptop? Oh, good. Let’s take that back to the hotel.”

“Good idea. We can work on that tonight.” Carol’s face grew puzzled. If we can get into it. Password.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, the sooner we are done with this, the sooner we can figure that out, and then we can play for a couple of days.” Maggie opened the door and sat the bags partially in the hallway, propping the door open. Carol followed with the third bag and set it there, too.

“We’ll take those down the hall in a few minutes. Let’s check out those papers and files on the counter.

She stood and caught Carol’s eye. “Mom?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Someone is here.”

Maggie rotated back toward the door and saw a woman standing on the other side of the bags, looking in. She looked young, polished, and professional, dressed in a stylish black suit with a lavender low-cut blouse. She stood tall—taller than herself, Maggie imagined—and had long inky-black hair.