Ghosts and Dinner

Renee sat in silence, eyes wide and body frozen. Had she heard him right? Three million dollars. She was already reeling from the revelation about the house, but now this? A safe, filled with that kind of money, left to her and the boys? It didn’t feel real.

Jake’s voice broke the stillness. “Renee… are you okay?” She blinked, but her mind was still catching up. His face looked genuinely concerned. He already hated having kept this from her for so long—but not knowing what she was thinking was even worse. After a long pause, she asked, “Do I get to choose whether I keep it or...?”

Jake leaned forward, hands folded. “Yes. You can keep it, sell it, walk away from it. But I do recommend you at least retrieve the money. It’s... yours. And theirs.” There was so much to process. A house, money, the fact that Leo had done something—anything—for her and the kids, even if it was all tangled up in control from beyond the grave. Finally, Renee stood, smoothing her jeans and offering him a small smile. “Jake, I need time. I’ll talk to the boys tonight—it’s their first day of school, and… this is a huge decision. I’ll be in touch.”

Jake nodded, walking her to the office door. “I hope you do consider it,” he said gently. “It’s a big move, yeah. But you deserve this much… after everything that dirtbag put you through.” She smiled, tight-lipped but genuine. “Thanks, Jake.” Back home, Renee locked the door behind her and kicked off her shoes. The silence in the apartment reminded her how new everything still felt. She made her way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, only to remember she hadn’t gone shopping yet. She sighed, grabbed her wallet and keys, and slipped her shoes back on, just as her phone started ringing again. She glanced at the screen: Jake Carlson.

Hesitant, she answered. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry to bother you again,” Jake said. “But I forgot to ask—did you get everything you needed for the new apartment?”

That caught her off guard. How did he know? “Not yet,” she admitted slowly. “I was just heading out to grab what I can before the boys get home.” There was a pause. Then, “Come outside.”

“What?” But he’d already hung up. Still confused—and slightly amused—she opened the door. As she stepped out, locking the door behind her, she turned and nearly tripped, but Jake was already there, arms full of bags.

He caught her, barely, one glass bottle shattering at their feet. “Well, you didn’t have to rush,” he laughed. “Are you okay?”

She let out a breathy laugh. “I wasn’t rushing. Today just feels… weird. Like Leo’s still stalking me from the grave.” They both laughed—too loudly, too freely—before Jake adjusted the bags in his arms. “I didn’t know what exactly you’d need,” he said. “So I just got the basics. Some stuff for the boys—what are they now, ten and fifteen? And… well, I got you some whiskey. Guess that’s not happening now.” Renee chuckled again, but then something nagged at her. “Jake... how did you know I moved? That I needed things? And the whiskey—how did you know I drink that?” pointing at the broken bottle.

Jake’s smile faded. “Leo was my client for a reason,” he said, voice low. “He arranged… people. Even after death. They kept an eye on the house, made sure no one bothered you. When you moved out, I got the call to open the envelope. To deliver everything he left behind.” Renee’s stomach churned. “Even now, he finds ways to control things.”

Jake met her eyes. “I didn’t exactly know the full story. Not until today.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. As much as she wanted to slam the door in Leo’s memory, she couldn’t ignore that Jake had done this out of genuine care. “Come in,” she said softly. They unpacked the groceries together. Renee moved with quiet gratitude while Jake carefully placed items in her too-empty cabinets. She finally broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?” Jake paused mid-motion, waiting.

“Why are you doing all this?” He went back to organizing. “Because I knew you were in a rough spot. You were always kind to me—at Leo’s parties, during meetings. I never understood why you stayed with him… or why he left you with nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were taken care of until you decide what’s next.” Silence again, warm but heavy.

“Thank you,” she said eventually. “The boys are going to love this. You didn’t have to go this far.” He shrugged. “Maybe not. But I wanted to.”

She hesitated. “Would you… like to stay for dinner? You did buy it, after all." Jake looked surprised. His cheeks flushed. “I’d love to, but I’m not out of the office until six.” As he grabbed his keys to leave, she smiled. “Come by when you get off. I’ll have it ready.” He turned at the door, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Alright. I will.” Renee didn’t need groceries after all. But one thing was missing: her drink. She walked to the nearest liquor store, grabbed another bottle of whiskey, and returned just in time to see the school bus pull up. The boys came running, greeted by a scoop of ice cream each.

“We’re having company tonight,” she told them. “An old friend of your father’s. I need to talk to you both about something important.” They nodded, excited about the visitor and too sugar-buzzed to question it. Renee cooked quietly, her mind racing. Was inviting Jake over a mistake? What if he got the wrong idea? Or worse… what if she did? At six, her phone buzzed. A text: “I’ll be there soon.”

Her stomach fluttered. Why was she nervous? It was just dinner. Nothing more. When came the knock. Jake stood at the door, his coat slightly wrinkled, smile crooked and boyish. Renee called for the boys. They ran in, freezing mid-step. “We remember you!” LJ blurted out. Jake laughed. “Of course you do. And these are for you.” He handed each of them a small wrapped gift.

“Thank you, Mr. Jake!” they chorused and darted off to the table. Renee raised an eyebrow. “You’re spoiling them already.”

Jake grinned. “I figure they deserve it.” Dinner passed with surprising ease. Laughter at the table. Clinking glasses. The boys were glowing from attention, and Renee felt something foreign settle in her chest: comfort.

After dinner, the kids were sent off to get ready for bed. Renee poured another drink and glanced at Jake. “Want to stay a little longer and talk?” she asked, cautiously. Jake nodded. “I’d like that.” They sat on her makeshift couch—milk crates and a secondhand coffee table between them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like home. They sipped whiskey and talked. About Leo. About the years she spent trying to heal. About how silence used to be safer than speaking. For the first time in years, she felt... seen. Later, when the night had deepened and the whiskey had warmed them both, she hesitated.

“Do you have time for one more drink? Or do you need to head out?” Jake smiled. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll stay as long as you want. I’ll just skip the office tomorrow.” She blinked. “Can you just… do that?” Jake laughed. “I own the firm, Renee. I answer to no one.” She chuckled, impressed. And maybe a little proud. As she poured one last drink, something stirred in her. It was warm, strange, and not from the whiskey.