he wondered if they would have to sell their house and move, now that they were without Brad’s earning power. Since Brad was the breadwinner, and he was gone now, anything was likely to happen, which could destabilize Aden’s life even more than it just had been. Buck hoped Aden would be able to get a hockey scholarship, a full ride, so he could still go to college. He’d sent a note off to the athletic directors of all the schools Aden had applied to, asking them to consider his applications even more favorably, and Buck felt it was justified. Aden was an outstanding player, and might even have a shot at the NHL after college, if he wanted that. It wasn’t what his parents had hoped for him, but maybe that would change now. Despite all of Brad’s plans for him, Buck knew that the last thing Aden wanted was to become an accountant. Aden wanted to be a marine biologist, or a commercial fisherman in Alaska, or a test pilot like his grandfather, or preferably something outdoors and exciting. He had even thought about becoming a mountain-climbing guide or a ski instructor, none of which had pleased his parents. His future had been mapped out for him from the moment he was born. He was going to work with his father as an accountant in the family business his paternal grandfather had built forty years before. Brad had helped it grow into a sizable business, and it was thriving. They weren’t rich, but they were solid and lived well, and everything they had and saved was focused on Aden, a burden he didn’t enjoy.
Maggie dressed after Aden left the house. She wore a simple black pantsuit and tried to look businesslike. She had seen Brad’s will, and knew that he had left her the business. She had no idea what to do with it, or how to run it. She liked working there two days a week, helping out, filing and putting things away, but she knew she didn’t have the skills to take Brad’s place. She wanted to keep it going until Aden grew up, and could start working there after college, but he was still years away from stepping into his father’s shoes. She was counting on Phil Abrams to run it until Aden was ready. Probably after business school. She hoped he’d go to Stanford for that, like his father, or Harvard, but Aden wasn’t the student Brad had been, at least not yet, and he was a much better athlete than his father.
The ride to Brad’s office was short, and Maggie felt like she was on autopilot on the way there. She kept reminding herself that Brad wouldn’t be there, so it wouldn’t be a shock, but part of her kept expecting to see him in his office when she walked in. She looked pale and tense, bracing herself for disappointment when she arrived. Her dark hair was pulled back in a neat bun, her face was sheet-white, as it had been for a month, and she had worn no makeup. She had realized that there was no point, since she’d end up crying anyway. She cried almost constantly, although she was dry-eyed as Phil greeted her, and after hesitating for a moment, he walked her into his office. The door to Brad’s had been closed for a month, ever since he’d left for New York.
Phil was older than Brad, and had worked for Brad’s father. He’d been with the firm ever since he’d gotten his CPA. He was in his fifties and had put four kids through college working there. His son was a doctor, both his daughters were lawyers, and his youngest son was a CPA. Brad had viewed Phil almost as an older brother, and frequently sought his advice about practical matters, and running the business after his own father died. They had stayed very much with his father’s model, after modernizing it somewhat. They were highly respected in the community as a firm with integrity. Phil had thought of going out on his own early on, but once he had a family, he needed the stability that Mackenzie and Son offered.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Phil offered when she sat down.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, but didn’t look it. He noticed that her hands were shaking, and she kept glancing at the closed door to Brad’s office, as though she expected it to open at any