ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

CHAPTER 8 - ALL LEGAL-LIKE


Over the next couple of weeks, Buffy worked at making Spike's house into something that she could be comfortable living in long term, as well as preserving the essential "William-ness" to it.

One of the first things she did was to take her dad's advice and establish a P.O. Box in La Jolla, it was a drive, but it was worth it. She didn't want anybody to trace her to Julian.

The next thing she did was to take some of the money that her dad had put into an account for her and go to a computer store, getting herself a laptop, printer, and scanner/fax. She might be living in a house that was anything but modern, but the only way she would be able to keep up with her friends and Dawn, would be by being online. After being there with Spike last February, she knew just how to do it, too.

Buffy contacted all her creditors and paid up her bills on her cellular phone and credit cards and changed her address with them. Her dad would take care of her car insurance and Dawn's. As for the mortgage on her old house? What house? What mortgage company? She figured she'd pretty much got out of that. Yin & Yang - no bill, but no house.

As long as she kept busy during the day, she could keep from losing it, as long as she could stay focused on the task at hand. Cleaning almost a century of dirt and dust from the house was one thing, chopping firewood, making sure she had enough propane, fixing up things that were worn out, and shopping for new things. Even silly stuff like shelf liner paper, glass cleaner, wood-cleaning stuff, etc.

Buffy would catch herself often imagining how Spike would have liked this or that purchase. She’d really never been shopping with him, only been out to a restaurant once with him…but in her fantasy, either he would be with her, arguing or aor against something either of them liked, or he would be home, waiting for her return, to show him what she’d bought. In any case, he was always there with her, in her head, either agreeing or arguing with her. He was just like he always had been - opinionated.

She’d been at Walmart, picking up cleaning and household supplies, while looking for something pretty to hang up, “Why not?” she’d asked him in her head, when her ‘inner Spike’ argued against a framed picture.

“Looks like something ‘the poof’ would have,” she’d imagine him saying and rolling his eyes, “that’s one thing, second thing - at least go to a regular art gallery and get somethin’ decent. Read an art book! This is junk!” he’d say and go on and on about how French Impressionists were so much better, blah, blah.

“Okay, you win,” she’d say with a sigh. “Sheesh, just shut-up, Spike, please! Even now, you won’t stop yammering at me,” she said, with a fond, but sad little smile, not caring about the strange looks she was getting from nearby shoppers, as she’d put the ‘unknown-starving-artist-mass-produced-flowered-painting,’ which really was kind of garish, back on the shelf.

“Just trying to teach ya the difference between art and junk, luv,” he’d say.

“Just shut-up,” she’d reply, “always have to have the last word?”

“What do you think?” he’d go on to prove her point.


But by far, the nights were the hardest. Gone was the familiar bantering back and forth that she could almost keep herself from being lonely with during the day. Gone was the eye rolls, the smirks, the quips. Night was when she felt the most alone, most vulnerable, and most depressed over Spike’s absence in her life, and over his death.

She would pace the house for hours, or lay in bed wide awake trying to remember things he’d said, the time they’d had together in the house, or back in Sunnydale. She wasaid aid to sleep, afraid to dream, because she never knew what to expect. Her dreams could be comforting, with Spike telling her that everything was alright, that he was alright, that she would be, too. Or they could be dreams where he was still alive, when they were here or in Sunnydale, (these were the hardest to wake up from, knowing they were only dreams) or they could be nightmares of him burning up and turning to dust before her eyes. She never had any way of knowing which was to come to her and so she avoided sleep as much as she could.


Finally, the day came that she'd dreaded the most. She'd called Lawrence Jr. to set up a meeting with him at The Rittenhouse, after first calling Edna to confirm that there was an envelope there for her. She asked if she could come by to talk to her privately, before the meeting.

The meeting with Lawrence was scheduled for Friday July 11, 2003 at 3:00pm. The restaurant was closed between 2:00pm & 4:00pm to get ready for the dinner crowd.

It was an overcast, as she drove the Subaru to the restaurant, steeling herself for what would be surely, an emotionally draining day. She pulled up to the restaurant at 2:00pm and turned off the car. As she did she heard it, “na,na,na,na,na,na,na,na I wanna be sedated,” heart pounding she got out of the car and walked over to the young man who seemed about 16 years old, who was working on his car in front of the restaurant.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked.

“Um, I’m here to see Edna,” Buffy said.

“Oh, I’m her grandson, Wallace from back east. I’m out here helping grandma for the summer,” he said, wiping his hands on his pants, then extending it to her, “nice to meet you.”

She shook his hand, “nice to meet you, too. I’m Bu, Elizabeth,” she said.

“Oh, Uncle William’s friend! She told me you were coming,” he said smiling, “how is William? I haven’t seen him since I was about 7 years old, but I always heard about him.”

Buffy didn’t know what to say, “I wanted to ask you something,” she said, changing the subject, “who is that playing on the radio?”

“Huh? Oh, the CD, that’s Ram Ramones, old punk band from the 80’s. Always sort of liked them,” he smiled sheepishly.

She didn’t say anything, so he asked her, “Do you like them?”

“They remind me of someone, especially this song,” she said, trying not to let her voice crack.

“Yeah? That’s cool. Would you like me to burn you a copy?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“I’ve got a CD burner on my laptop, just take a few minutes, I’ll go get a blank one from inside and make you a copy.”

“Really? That’s so nice, let me pay you something,” Buffy said.

“No, I don’t want any money, I’m glad to do it,” Wallace said.

“You sure?” Buffy asked.

“Positive! Come on, I’ll take you inside to see grandma, while I get my blank CD and laptop,” he said, letting Buffy go before him.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Grandma,” Wallace yelled once inside, “Elizabeth is here to see you!”

“Grandma don’t hear so well these days,” he said to Buffy.

“No, but I heard that loud and clear!” she said, smiling at Buffy and giving Wallace a grandmotherly look of disapproval, with a smile behind it.

“Elizabeth, it’s so nice to see you,” Edna said, coming up and giving her a hug, “I see you’ve met Wally,” she said.

“Yes, we met outside,” Buffy answered.

“I’m going to burn her a copy of The Ramones, grandma,” Wallace said, “she liked the music,” he explained.

She nodded, smiling.

Wallace left the front room and Edna and Buffy walked into the dining area, sitting down at a small table toward the back of the room. It had already been set up with a pitcher of coffee and some muffins and rolls.

Buffy unzipped her sweater and sat down.

“Oh, Elizabeth,” Edna said, smiling, “I see you’re wearing the necklace that William bought for you on your last visit,” she continued, “and tell me, did he like Shakespeare book like I thought he would? Did you get him to read some of it aloud for you?”

Buffy looked at Edna and her façade started to crumple. Tears sprang to her eyes. Alarmed, Edna, reached across the table and in a surprisingly strong grip, took her hand in hers.

“Elizabeth,” Edna said, softly, “tell me, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Buffy could only look at her, but it was written on her face.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Edna asked.

Buffy nodded, afraid to trust her voice.

“I had a feeling for a while now,” she said, not seeing Buffy’s surprised look, “for a little over a month.”

Edna looked at Buffy, “Am I right?”

Buffy nodded, then cleared her throat, “Yes.”

Edna just looked at Buffy, so she continued, “He…he was in Sunnydale,” she said, not knowing what other kind of explanation she could possibly come up with.

“I heard about that, everyone heard about that. Tragic, tragic. I just never imagined that’s where you two were from,” she said, “your family get out? Before?”

Buffy nodded.

They were silent a few moments, then Buffy said softly, “He saved me.”

Edna looked up, “That’d be our William, now, wouldn’t it? Saving you, saving me, um, I mean his grandfather,” she corrected, quickly.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day…” Edna stopped, wiping her eyes on a piece of Kleenex she took out of the sleeve of her sweater.

“He loved you, you know,” Edna said, looking at Buffy.

Buffy nodded, tears in her eyes.

“And you loved him?”

She nodded again.

“You didn’t realize it so much last time you were here, but I saw it. I knew that you did, that you and he belonged together,” Edna said.

At this, the tears ran down her face, and she made a small choking sound.

Edna got up and came over to where Buffy was sitting, putting her arms around her.

“What good does that do me now?” she asked Edna, “a little late to show him!”

“Aw, he knew it Miss Elizabeth, he knew it. You take it from me. Man like him always knows his heart and the heart of those around him.”

Buffy didn’t know why Edna’s words touched her or made sense to her, or why she felt comforted by them. Perhaps, because she was almost like his family, in a strange sort of way.

“Do you think so? You really think he knew?” Buffy asked, looking up at Edna.

“I don’t think so, I know it. I know it in my heart, as much as I know that the necklace he gave you has both your initials on it.”

At that, Buffy gasped, looking at Edna, who nodded, “That necklace used to be mine. My husband Lawrence gave it to me when we got engaged. Had our initials engraved on the back,” she said.

At seeing Buffy’s confused look, she explained, “His full name was Wallace Lawrence McKennitt, but he didn’t like Wallace, so he went by Lawrence, but when we got engaged, thought he ought to use his proper first name, that’s why the W & E on the back.

Buffy looked at her, “We saw it. Sp, William and I. We wondered about it, but didn’t think it was you and Lawrence.”

“It was,” she smiled.

“But, why did you sell it?” Buffy asked.

“Well, it was…” she didn’t want to explain the mix-up, so she said, “I had it long enough and I was so happy that William had picked it out of all the things in the case. His eye went right to it. I could see by the way he looked at it how much he thought you would like it. Must have been something about it that caught his eye. And of course, the initials on the back, matching those of yours and William’s. I just thought it was perfect!” she said, smiling.

“I treasure it,” Buffy said, as she looked down at the necklace, “I always will.”

“I know you will, Elizabeth,” Edna said, “I know you will.”


They had coffee then, Edna making sure that Buffy ate some muffins, telling her she was looking too thin.

They spoke mostly of Spike in the more distant past, and of his ‘father’ and ‘grandfather.’ Edna offered to give Buffy any leftover food that she had everyday, but Buffy wouldn’t accept.

“You know he’d want you to take care of yourself,” Edna said.

“I know,” Buffy replied, “I’m alright.”

Edna fussed over her some, making her promise to stop by often. Buffy promised, though she wasn’t sure if she’d actually do it or not.

At 3:00pm a tall, graying man walked through the door into the restaurant.

“Mother?” he called.

“Oh, that must be Lawrence, excuse me,” she said to Buffy.

She came back a few minutes later and introduced them, “Elizabeth Summers, this is my son, Lawrence McKennitt, Jr.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lawrence said, “Wally said I’d find you in here,” he said, extending his hand to her.

“Why don’t you two go into my office,” she suggested, “the envelope is in there.”

They nodded and Edna took them into the kitchen and beyond the room where she and Spike had eaten dinner. She was glad the door to that room was closed, too many memories were flooding her, just being here.

Edna opened up a door to a small room, apologizing, “Sorry, it’s so small and such a mess, dear, I tried to clean up earlier,” she said looking at Lawrence and Buffy.

“It’s alright mother,” Lawrence said.

Buffy smiled at her and Edna left then, “Stay as long as you wish, you won’t be disturbing anything, even if dinner hour starts.”

The door closed and they were alone. Lawrence cleared his throat, “First, let me say how sorry I was to hear about William. He spoke very kindly of you and your sister when we last spoke. I think he must have had some premonition, when he had me make out this will.”

He looked at Buffy questioningly, but she just held his glance.

He looked away, continuing, “Can you tell me, if it’s not too painful, just how he died.”

Not too painful…if he only knew!

“He was in Sunnydale, when it…collapsed, sink-holed, earthquaked…”

“I see,” he said, quickly. He was satisfied with the answer, so he went on.

“Mr. Worthington, William, left you his house, all the property surrounding it, and also a sizeable inheritance for you and a college fund for your sister,” he looked at his papers, “Dawn.”

They talked about what needed to be done, to put it into her name and how she could access the accounts he’d left her, the trust fund for Dawn, and other things.

“So, I think that about covers it,” Lawrence said, “do you have any questions for me now?”

“Just one,” Buffy said, “How do I go about changing my name?”

END CHAPTER 8