A Baby of Convenience by Lena Skye Page A

greeted her somberly, as he walked in.
     
    “Hi,” Elena returned, and then she added cautiously, “I brought some things.”
     
    “Oh, good,” Neal said absentmindedly.
     
    “Neal – are you OK?”
     
    He didn’t answer for a minute and then he looked up, his eyes were far away.
    “I need to drop by my brother’s apartment for a bit.”
     
    “Oh,” she said, “alright. I’ll be fine here.”
     
    “Actually,” Neal said tentatively, “I was hoping you would come with me…. for some moral support.”
     
    Elena leaned in and gave him a hard hug.
     
    “Of course,” she said willingly.
     
    The two of them made the trip to George’s apartment in complete silence, both consumed with their own thoughts. The doorman gave Neal his condolences as they went up in the elevator.
     
    Finally, they reached his apartment. Neal stood at the door for what seemed like an eternity, but Elena never pressed him to turn the key in the lock. She just stood behind him until he was ready. Finally, he took a deep breath, turned the key and pushed the door open.
     
    They walked around. Elena started cleaning up, the musky smell of desertion had already settled over the rooms. Neal simply stood there, doing nothing. Then finally, he walked into his brother’s room. He looked through the drawers, the cupboards, and the wardrobe. He searched with single-minded purpose, but even he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Somehow, a part of Neal hoped that there was something hidden among his brother’s possessions that could save him somehow.
     
    Something that could get their company back and keep it in the family. Perhaps a second codicil that out dated the first and thus rendered it null and void. Perhaps this one would state that in the absence of any children, Hargrove Brothers would pass to Neal and his children. He had gotten so used to receiving lifelines from his brother, that a part of him still expected that, even in George’s absence. He was so involved in his aimless hunt, that he didn’t notice Elena behind him.
     
    “Neal?” she said gently, “what are you looking for?”
     
    “I… I don’t know,” he replied honestly, pulling at the contents of another drawer.
     
    Elena said something in response, but he didn’t hear it. His eyes fell on a yellowing letter that held his father’s neat scrawl. George’s letter. The one he had never been permitted to see. Neal took it out gingerly and shook the dust from the page. He wondered for a moment if he should read it or not. George had never allowed him to, but Neal’s desperation outweighed his conscience at that moment, and he sank onto the bed with the letter in hand.
     
     
     
     
    To my son, George,
     
    I want you to know that some of the best days of my life, were the ones you spent with me as a teenager, following me around the office, hanging on my every word and trying to absorb as much information as you could. You were always a hard worker, and a determined one. I knew from the beginning that I would never have to worry about you. You are a survivor.
     
    Which is why I feel like I can confide in you. George – I’m worried about your brother. Neal was always a sensitive boy. He has become a sensitive man. So much so, that he shies away from life because he’s afraid to live it. His mother’s death was too much for him to bear at such a young age, and he was so very close to her. It was like they had their own language sometimes.
     
    Even I was jealous of their connection at times, but I suppose it was fair. They had their own world together, and we had ours.
     
    When he lost her, he changed, and fool that I was, I assumed it would correct itself as he got older. Neal’s life; it's empty, George, and he needs to know that living is more than just parties and girlfriends. It’s purpose and direction and family. It’s earning something worthwhile. It’s having something important at the end of the day that is completely your