The Lighthouse Keeper I: Redemption

By Teri Raes

Throughout history there have been individuals and groups of the elite that have strived to control others, destroying countries and humanity for profit. These profiteers often clashed with the unexpected protectors of the unknowing. These thorns of the elite had the foresight in “control” we’re looking not to benefit humanity but to profit at the expense of the masses. Project Nine came into fruition in the early twentieth century. Their hierarchy of collective genius and allegiance served one purpose—to control global economics and governments. Their reach dominated every facet, from democracies, dictatorships, presidents, senators, congress, pharmaceuticals, water supplies, and every war created. Every hierarchy and elite group determined to control humanity by domination had those who fought back. Project Nine’s thorn were Holocaust survivors, former CIA Black Operations commander, Catholic priest, Mother Superior, elementary school teacher, and Canadian journalist contrasting, combined in integrity whose solidarity protects all humanity. These Keepers of Light joined forces to be advocates of human life. This is the Lighthouse Keeper: Redemption. The Lighthouse Keeper II – Truth

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781635687064

Book preview

1

Each day humans make dozens of decisions. Decisions subconsciously, consciously, based upon informed deduction, calculated planning, genetic conditioning, or human reaction. Some decisions are not always enacted through moral compass or informed choice. There are conditions in life which no one can prepare regardless of oaths, integrity, or belief system.

A singular decision set the fate of Holocaust survivors, former CIA Black Operations commander, Catholic priest, elementary teacher, and Canadian journalist. This unique mix shared one goal to protect the fate of humanity. Citizens perceived as irrelevant statistics by the most powerful world brokers.

Jack Smith, navy seal, trained with MI6 and Mossad. CIA Black Operations commander hailed as legacy esteemed by world leaders, mentors, and the men under his command. Jack received multiple metals of valor surpassing any seal/agent current or deceased.

There was one flaw noted on his service record. Commander Smith was a man of conscience. All the intense training; could not subjugate his moral fiber. He first protected civilians then the men under his command. Smith could not be compromised, manipulated, or bought. Every mission from Afghanistan, Iraq, Kuwait, Sarajevo, and Pakistan Black Ops neutralized impending dictators, stopped ethnic cleansing at its root, protecting the United States and its allies regardless the physical, mental, or emotional cost.

Enemies knew Jack as a meticulous, trained assassin. He was an enigma, machine, and chameleon. His instincts and strength could not be challenged. In the field Jack was unshaven, disheveled, and long-haired. He also presented as shaven, coiffed in role of male model. This dichotomy of man changed his physical appearance while adapting mentally, physically, and emotionally effortlessly. His six feet-two frame of muscular proportion, chiseled jawline played upon almond-shaped blue eyes. His blonde hair, wide thin lips, was a perfect symmetry of masculine elegance. There was no theater Jack Smith could not infiltrate or command.

There were multiple sides to the psyche of Commander Smith. He was a machine of calculated control. His authority/supremacy over emotions is what made him the greatest agent in history. Regardless of consequence, Smith walked into the fire first and was the last to walk out. Never did he break, compromise, or allow human emotions to compromise.

In Jack’s fifteenth year of service, he was tasked to provide personal protection for Ezra Rosenbaum. Ezra was an entrepreneur, humanitarian and survivor of Auschwitz concentration camp. He was married for fifty years to Eliza. A financial and economical genius, Ezra protected financial interests of the United States and Great Britain. Under Ezra’s astute genius, Wall Street was held in control to propel economical, not corporate, interests. His character was to serve middle income, the American dream. It was the promise of democracy for all that brought Ezra and Eliza to a nation created upon dreams, work, and sacrifice.

One mistake was made by the supreme agent the rule Jack had cautioned all under his command. This grave error would not only come to cost lives. It would also have historical impact to democracy.

South Africa May, 1989; Ezra ran into an old friend Abram, in the lobby of his hotel. Abram urged Ezra for an hour of his time prior to the start of the financial summit. Jack was front on task while blending in the background.

Jack was in the adjoining room while Ezra and Abram talked for two hours. When Abram departed, Ezra had a request of Jack, one that Ezra believed would bring great consequence. Abram had valid information that the AIDS epidemic was intentionally being used as a chemical warfare agent to methodically control world population.

At the request of Ezra, Jack took on a noncommissioned mission. In the immeasurable assignments of past, Jack never crossed the line between asset and agent. Ezra asked Jack to follow the information given to him by Abram to prove wrong that the world’s greatest democracies were not a part of human genocide.

Jack accepted Ezra’s request. The agent of conscience had to find the truth. At the conclusion of the summit, Jack returned to Africa with one of his agents, Evan. This nonsanctioned mission took Jack into an abyss that would call into question every former mission in his entire career.

Eliza Rosenbaum was a young child when she entered Auschwitz with her family. She was the only survivor. Like Ezra, Eliza never allowed loss and horrors of the past as an excuse, reason, or philosophy to be defined. Both shared the same life mission to enhance the world beginning with every citizen seen and unseen.

Eliza supported the arts, various museums and the theater. Her work with young artists and individuals from all racial, social, and economic platforms was her passion. Through mentorship, financial and emotional support, Eliza had elevated countless young lives. Her zest, compassion, independence, and flair were the core of inspiration and growth to all who passed through her world.

Eliza’s petite stature, fine bones, large dark eyes that cast light upon life with lively hair resting relaxed at her jaw bone. She moved in energized grace and enlightened joy. Her days were spent enhancing and empowering those who had no advocates or whose advocate’s resources were limited.

Ezra and Eliza resided in a penthouse on Park Avenue for the past thirty years. Their staff had been with them since the early days on Park Avenue. Miles Caufield, chauffer and bodyguard. Miles’s devotion to Eliza was without compromise. His towering height of six feet three and muscular build on a man of distinct middle age left most intimidated. Miles’s narrow eyes, chiseled features, and closing demeanor of public persona were a shroud of authority. His essence was a soul of silent kindness and devotion for the Rosembaum family.

Rosalind Larson, chef, whose infectious laughter, middle-age warmth, captured every imposing aristocrat who crossed the threshold of the residence. Constance Martinez, devoted housekeeper who kept dust at bay, silver polished, and Eliza’s confidante. Janice Pettybone, secretary who kept all social and personal affairs and obligations in order. Her grace and posture blended naturally the mix of influential individuals of daily exchange. Janice’s husband was Arthur Pettybone, esquire, estate attorney for Ezra and Eliza. These unique individuals were not simply employees of Ezra and Eliza; they were considered the only family members.

Jack completed the investigation turning over the microchip of compiled evidence against a democracy and powerful ally. He walked away from the CIA. Jack did not anticipate this microchip would set off a succession of assassinations.

August 9, 1991, a searing hot day in New York City. Shanon McNally and a few of her alumni were vacationing. All had graduated from Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. Creighton, a prestigious university with noted law school, medical, and K-12 education program. Shanon graduated with a bachelor’s degree in education, her goal, teaching kindergarten to shape, cultivate, and inspire young souls.

This future young Irish educator was raised by her paternal grandmother. Shanon lost both her parents to a tragic accident at the age of five. Elizabeth McNally was the first woman real estate agent in the forties, the first real estate broker in the fifties, and then became the first woman contractor. Elizabeth created multiple listings enabling all real estate agencies to combine listings opening the market to all brokers. She then blended the agency, becoming insurance company, accountant with full service from breaking the ground on new property to listing, insuring, and providing tax advice.

Shanon grew up in the light intellect and constant work ethic of her grandmother. She was taught accomplishment does not equate to success, both opposite, but prove that diligence prevails. Life was not about coddling; affection was limited to an undertone. Shanon’s life was of constant learning, planning, and honesty.

The limited trust fund enabled an education yet living expenses came from working in accounting offices and fast-food places. Elizabeth passed a month prior to Shanon’s graduation. Like her grandmother, Shanon worked, received an education, and was on the track to teach in two weeks.

This young Irish woman with wide green eyes whose passion was to empower eager early souls chose not to take over a legacy’s empire. She took a path of passion to her soul’s call. In respect, affection, and legacy, Shanon chose to define her journey. Never in her greatest intellect and goal-oriented proclivity could she imagine that a transformer of souls would become a soldier of fortune.

Shanon grabbed a Pepsi and apple walking around the small market void of air-conditioning. It was obvious there were power issues inside the building as she made her way to the back of a lengthy line where patience of many was wearing thin. While scanning the crowded market, her eyes paused on a petite elderly woman of grace, strength, and aura of energized persona making her way through the crowd.

Shanon was second in line when she turned her head to find that woman standing straight smiling, deep brown eyes casting an invitation of profound warmth. She made a deliberate decision. Please, take my place in line. Your carton of ice cream is melting. Shanon smiled softy, stepping aside, placing her hand on the woman’s forearm.

How kind of you, surely a beautiful young woman must be in a rush to get to an important destination. Eliza’s smiled, lighting her entire porcelain, gently lined face.

Shanon returned the smile. No, please go next. I’m on vacation. I have nothing but time.

Thank you, honey, for your consideration. You are correct, this ice cream is beginning to melt. Seems they are having problems with the electrical.

Eliza took Shanon’s place in line. Turning she looked up into Shanon’s eyes. You’ve come to visit my city. Are you enjoying your trip?

Yes, I am, immensely. Your city is majestic, Shanon answered, her face beaming.

Indeed it is. Where are you from?

I’m from the Midwest.

I’m familiar but have never traveled to your Midwest.

Shanon laughed. That doesn’t surprise me.

What brings you to New York City?

I’ve always wanted to experience the theater, arts, museums, and of course, the people.

Do you want to be an actress? Eliza asked, looking at this beautiful young, vital woman.

No. Shanon grinned. I just graduated from college. I want to teach kindergarten.

You are an educator, a notable profession. What university did you attend?

I graduated from Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska.

I am familiar with that university. If I am correct, there is a noted law school and medical school on campus as well.

That’s right. I hope the education I received will serve me well for the children I will be teaching in a few weeks.

My dear, I have no doubts that you will indeed shape the minds of all children who come into your classroom. Your education will continue with knowledge gleaned from those bright-eyed children. Your role in their lives is of great importance. Young teacher, you have the power to shape and inspire a great future. That is the extraordinary gift you will provide. Eliza placed her ice cream on the counter then wrapped her small hands around Shanon’s.

Shanon was speechless, moved as her soul expanded in the aura of this mighty woman. Eliza ignited a renewed fire within Shanon’s being. Never in that moment or the time to come could Shanon anticipate the legacy that accompanied those words of motivation. Looking into this wondrous woman’s eyes, she found a home where past and future would meet.

I assure you, I will work diligently to accomplish what you have conveyed so eloquently.

Eliza reached up and stroked Shanon’s cheek. Honey, I don’t doubt whatsoever that you will be an exemplary educator. What is your name, honey?

Shanon extended her hand. I’m Shanon McNally, it is an honor, and you are? Eliza with gold rings of diamond and emerald on her tiny fingers embraced Shanon’s hand with strength.

It is lovely to meet you. I am Eliza Rosenbaum. I am confident you are of Irish heritage, not only your name, but also there is no denying such thick, wavy deep red hair and dark green eyes. Eliza reached out and touched Shanon’s unruly hair. Child, I know many women who would pay handsomely to have such gorgeous hair.

Shanon shook her head and giggled. Thank you for your compliments. In actuality I hated my hair color and hair most of my life. My grandmother, who also had red hair, convinced me not to hate my hair.

Your grandmother is a wise woman.

Yes, she was wise and very accomplished. Shanon’s eyes moved slightly from Eliza as her voice trailed slightly.

Eliza instinctively knew it was time for a new topic of conversation. She looked down at Shanon’s grocery items. Is that your lunch?

Not only lunch but breakfast as well. Shanon smiled.

No wonder you are so thin; an apple and soda is not a meal.

I thought the vitamins from the apple would counter the sugar soda.

Eliza paid for her ice cream then waited at the end of the counter for Shanon to purchase her items. She rested her hand on Shanon’s forearm. Together they walked out to the sidewalk.

Shanon, how would you like to join me at my home for lunch, something a little more substantial than what you purchased?

Shanon hesitated momentarily. Yes, I would love to have lunch with you, but you have to let me help with the preparations.

Not to worry, child. I have a wonderful chef, Rosalina. Perfect, then lunch it is. See that young man in a suit walking toward us, he is my chauffeur.

Yes, I could not miss him. He is a foreboding force.

Miles is a kind man. Simply protective. Eliza smiled, patting Shanon’s small hand.

Does he think I am going to mug you? Shanon asked. Miles moved in long stride toward them.

No, honey. I like to get out and do my own shopping. This is a beautiful day. Had I not wanted ice cream I would not have met you. I want you to always remember this. Nothing ever happens in this world by mistake.

Shanon could not at that moment comprehend the gravity of that statement and how those words would profoundly affect her world from that moment forward.

2

Shanon stepped off the elevator into the Park Avenue penthouse, a castle against the Manhattan skyline. An Italian marble foyer welcomed endless dignitaries, members of New York’s elite and various senators. The first object of Shanon’s attention was a massive cherrywood staircase leading to the second floor with a view of many doors. The furniture throughout the castle was Louis XIV with marble sculptures and priceless works of art adorning the walls.

Eliza led Shanon into the library. Mahogany shelves from floor to ceiling supported volumes of books from literary first additions, law library, finance, and history. A desk of distinction in deep mahogany sat next to immense windows with breathtaking view of Central Park. A tall black leather chair still positioned at the desk waiting an occupant.

Opposite the desk, two thick leather couches face each other with a large mahogany table dividing both that served well for meetings or a luncheon.

Please sit down. I need to give Rosalina our lunch plans. I see your eyes tracing all the books, help yourself.

It is an extraordinary library, Shanon spoke softly.

Eliza returned, closing the sliding wood doors of the library. Her spark, perfect posture, and command reminded Shanon in some respects of her grandmother, Elizabeth.

Did you find something you wanted to read, Shanon?

Shanon smiled. Of course, endless volumes, so many first additions, but right now I would prefer to talk to you.

The sound of the intercom broke through the room. Eliza lifted the phone. "Yes, tell him to meet me in the library. Thank you, Constance.

Shanon, please excuse me for just a few minutes. Jack needs to speak to me. Eliza rose from the sofa, walking briskly to the library doors opening, with the same ease she closed them.

Shanon glanced from the literary collection toward the door. It was a glimpse changing a life imprint from self-protected one dimensional life to one of possibilities. A man bending down to listen to Eliza incited every emotion to surge through her being.

Jack Smith’s eyes could leave enemies frozen in paralysis then transform into hypnotic splendor giving home to the most defiant. Jack’s ability to shift emotions was as natural as going from darkness to light in seconds.

This was the moment of conception, establishing the keepers of the light legacies. Nine years would pass before the start of Jack and Shanon’s journey. Jack placed an envelope in Eliza’s hand, gently kissing her cheek. As he moved from Eliza, his eyes met Shanon’s briefly. In an instant he was gone.

I’m sorry for the interruption Shanon. Jack is a longtime family friend. A handsome man don’t you think?

Shanon’s soul and mind still imprinted with his image let off guard and off task. She paused to gain repose. Yes. He is quite handsome. Shanon crossed her legs and sat back on the sofa.

There must be another handsome man waiting for your return.

No…no. I concentrated on my education, no time for relationships. Now that I have graduated, my professional goals in terms of meeting and exceeding…I do not have time for a relationship. Shanon looked directly into Eliza’s eyes.

Eliza smiled in experience and superior instinctive nature. When you find him, you will be ready. No goals, professional or personal, will interfere.

Shanon could not counter with argument or defense.

3

April 2001

Shanon had just returned home from teaching. She checked her voice mail to find an urgent message from the condominium manager to pick up an express mail from her office. Rushing over to the office before the close of business, Shanon picked up the letter and small package, walking back to her condo. She looked at the return address and smiled. It must have been a special note from Eliza.

Placing her keys on the snack bar, she began to open the letter, sitting on the sofa, placing the package in her lap with her tiny Yorkshire terrier Sammy next to her.

Dear Shanon

With deep regret I must inform you, Eliza passed away peacefully at home early Sunday morning. I would have phoned except Eliza kept your number in her memory.

Over these past ten years you forged a very special relationship. You became a daughter, one she loved deeply and was most proud of. You were always a source of constant love.

In the enclosed box you will find her charm bracelet. It was her wish that you receive this. In a few days, Mr. Pettybone will contact you. He will at that time give you information of the time for the reading of her last will.

Sincerely,

Janice Pettybone

Shanon dropped the letter as her eyes burned with cascading tears. Her body trembled as she tried to hold tight in control of grief, loss, which had been the only constant in her life.

Noooo…I love you so deeply Eliza.

In quiet and silence Shanon wept, holding close her Sammy. The only consolation knowing she was reunited with her beloved Ezra. Ezra had passed two years prior to their first meeting in the small market off Park Avenue.

What stood out most in Shanon’s mind was Eliza’s constant optimism. She survived the five years in the death camp of Auschwitz during the Holocaust which never once caused self-pity, bitterness, prejudice, or an excuse. Nothing in history or experience stained Eliza’s purpose. A quintessential philanthropist who supported the arts, human rights foundations, and numerous individuals whose cause empowered all humanity. She last spoke to Eliza on Friday evening. Eliza had plans to take on a new cause.

Shanon used a tissue to dry her swollen eyes then looked down at the box still in her lap. Slowly she opened the box, removing the packing. There lay the everlasting elegance of Eliza’s charm bracelet, a gift from Ezra on their wedding day. Tenderly, Shanon placed it on her wrist, promising she would never remove it.

Memories captured played in Shanon’s mind of monthlong summer vacations in Eliza’s city.

"Eliza, how could you be gone? This world still needs you. You were the conscience of those in power with your hand on the pulse of humanity. Who will carry on for you?

"We shared ten beautiful years. I will miss our nightly conversations. You were nine years old when you arrived at Auschwitz, just a child who saw constant atrocities and watched those you love die horrible deaths.

"I will remember every lesson you graced my life with. I will not forget our words: ‘In order for democracy to sustain its fragile life, it is your duty to never ignore injustice even in its most silent form. If the citizens of this nation become complacent, a different, more perilous Holocaust will take hold. The members of this mighty country are bound to lift their voice if any source of authority uses power to corrupt even one stone of this democratic foundation.’ I remember Eliza.

A Jewish woman and Irish woman found a bond that will remain throughout all time. Thank you, Eliza, thank you.

Shanon looked around at the many oil paintings created by Eliza that stood on her walls and the many miniature lighthouse replicas sent to her by Eliza. Eliza knew Shanon was passionate about lighthouses. They represented to Shanon mystic, eternal strength, and hope. In her mind, these diplomats of the sea offered a place of surpassing sanctuary. The beam of protection served as an illuminating reminder of those who returned home and those who did not return from the salty waters.

May 1, 2001

Molly, the roving associate, walked into Shanon’s classroom smiling at the children embroiled in math facts.

Shanon, Mr. Pettybone is in Katharine’s office to see you.

Thank you, Molly. Shanon was taken off guard. When she spoke to Janice after receiving the letter, Janice was vague regarding pending details of Mr. Pettybone’s arrival.

Arthur Pettybone, brilliant estate attorney, nervous by nature. His stature was comical at first impression. A man of short stature, bald with tiny black-rimmed round glasses, his slight build, milk-colored complexion fit with his wife’s prim lines and matron personality.

Mr. Pettybone, wound tight, appearing to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown, adorned in worn pressed gray pinstripe suit, crooked tie, and wholesale faux leather slip-ons. He stood up quickly when Shanon walked into the office.

Shanon extended her hand. Mr. Pettybone, it is a pleasure.

He grasped her hand with his moist hand.

Shanon, it is a pleasure to meet you. I want to apologize that we were not able to contact you in time to attend Eliza’s funeral. Pettybone wiped his brow with starched handkerchief. Ezra and Eliza have no living family members. Seven years ago Eliza amended her will, naming you executor of estate. In as much every staff member Eliza chose as beneficiaries. She saw each as family members. It is imminent to settle her estate as soon as possible although they are still on salary soon that will be held up in probate.

Mr. Pettybone, Eliza would never want her family members to lose their salaries to probate. I am shocked she chose me to be in that role. Every other member had been with Ezra and Eliza for more years than I was given the gift to be in Eliza’s world. I do not understand why she chose me to be the executor.

I cannot give you that answer, Shanon. Of course Eliza loved her staff as family. However, we need to settle this estate as soon as possible. You have to be present for the reading of the will and sign all documents.

Mr. Pettybone, the last day of school is May 26. I would like to be here to dismiss my students for the final time.

Shanon, I can empathize with your dedication, but the estate needs to be addressed on May 26. I purchased your ticket. He reached into his briefcase, handing Shanon an envelope.

Opening the envelope, according to the itinerary, the flight departed at 7:00 a.m. on May 26. Shanon did not understand the urgency or his inability to give her an answer.

Eliza left you a cottage in Seabrook, Maine. Decisions must be finalized for all involved.

Mr. Pettybone, Eliza never once spoke about a cottage in Seabrook, Maine.

Eliza was quite insistent about the cottage. It was her wish for that to be your new permanent residence.

New residence, Mr. Pettybone, my home and career is here.

I understand, Shanon. You need to see the new residence before you make a decision. After the reading we will fly to Seabrook. Pettybone was overtly edgy as perspiration beaded upon his head as he again wiped his brow.

Shanon looked at him, trying to find remote confidence in his expertise. She was taken off task wondering why Eliza, who supported her career most, would ask her to walk away from her passion to move to Maine. Her head was swimming from too much and not enough information.

I will see you then, on May 26, in my office. Pettybone stood up.

Yes, I will be there. Thank you. Shanon again extended her hand. He smiled as his right eye twitched slightly.

Miles will pick you up at the airport.

It will be wonderful to see Miles.

Goodbye, Ms. McNally.

Good day, Mr. Pettybone.

Shanon placed the ticket on the desk then sat back in the chair. Eliza never once mentioned a cottage in Maine. How could she have purchased that property? She stopped traveling over sixteen months earlier. How can I move? My home is here. Why would she want me to move there? Never did she ask me to relocate to New York City.

Her mind besieged in unanswered questions. She dialed her lifelong friend Maggie.

Maggie, do you have a moment?

Sure, it is a quiet time at the office.

Eliza’s attorney, Mr. Pettybone, just left.

Did she leave you a million dollars? Maggie laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

No. She left me a cottage in Seabrook, Maine, and it is her wish that I move there.

That does not make sense, Shanon. She lived in New York City. Where does this connection come into play?

I have the same question, Maggie.

I trust you will find out the answer, Shanon.

I need to ask you a favor, Maggie. Will you come to New York with me for the reading of the will?

Of course, I just need to know the date so I can request time off work.

Thank you. The flight leaves at seven a.m. on May 26.

Shanon, I have never traveled out of Iowa. I look forward to this trip.

We will also have to go to Maine after the reading of the will.

It’s an adventure. Shanon, I want to remind you, on more than one occasion you told me that Eliza had a purpose for every decision made. She has a purpose and plan for you in Maine.

Maggie and Shanon have been lifelong friends. More than friends, their bond was as sisters. Maggie was married with a devoted, loving husband and four beautiful children. Each came from separate worlds, yet their connection knew no boundaries or limits.

4

The following four weeks passed quickly. Shanon’s students were anxious for summer vacation. After nine months with the students, saying goodbye was always bittersweet. One day prior to the final day of the year, she hugged each child, explaining there was an appointment their teacher had to keep, regretting not being there on their final day of class.

Due to Eliza’s inspiration, Shanon returned to college, receiving a master’s degree in education. It was never Shanon’s aspiration to be an administrator. Through Eliza’s support, Shanon received Teacher of the Year award in her fourth year of teaching.

From the inception of Shanon’s dream, it was her desire to give to each student a platform to rise, know acceptance and reach, then ride on the unlimited of dreams. Shanon chose to teach to enlighten, inspire, support, and provide a place of refuge from neglect, poverty, give special care to those with needs. She provided support and services counter to formed processes and limited services. Shanon purchased materials with her own finances and through the trust fund established by her fraternal grandmother.

The Reading

Shanon and Maggie walked into the main terminal of La Guardia Airport. Shanon saw Miles towering about the crowd. A smile of affection broke onto Shanon’s face. Rushing to him, how time had changed everything. Remember her first impression of this larger-than-life man who at first sight was foreboding and intimidating.

Shanon opened her arms, reaching up to him as he bent down, smiling upon her, embracing Eliza’s child by choice. Miles, I missed you. Shanon’s voice broke.

In the past nine years, arriving at La Guardia meant Miles would meet her, escorting her to Eliza’s limo. This time Eliza was not waiting in the limo.

Ms. Shanon, it is good to see you. His eyes of compassion knew she was here for the family members of Eliza’s design as he knew Shanon’s devotion and respect for Eliza was without compromise.

Miles, this is Maggie Martin. Maggie, Miles Caufield.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Maggie. Is this your first time to the city?

Nice to put a face to the family Shanon found in your city. Yes, it is my first time visiting New York City.

I will help you with your bags, missus. Mr. Pettybone awaits us.

Miles loaded Shanon and Maggie’s bags into the trunk. Much less luggage than Shanon had brought during summer and holiday visits. Shanon slid into the backseat automatically. The front seat would always be Eliza’s. Maggie followed Shanon’s lead.

Shanon was quiet, her mind and eyes following the memories.

Ms. Shanon, Manhattan by way of the Brooklyn Bridge? he asked, looking in the rear mirror. He knew Shanon was immersed in sorrow but held strong.

Shanon smiled. Of course, Miles, the Brooklyn Bridge, thank you.

As they entered the city, Shanon pointed out many of the historic sites to Maggie. Maggie had never left Iowa. Her eyes and senses were on alert. She came to understand why Shanon loved this city.

Miles, could we stop at Corner Garden on Park Avenue? I want to pick up an arrangement. I have to visit Eliza’s resting place after the reading before we go to Maine.

Certainly, Ms. Shanon. Mr. Pettybone already made the arrangements for your visit with Eliza. An attendant will be waiting at the mausoleum.

Shanon crossed the threshold into Eliza’s favorite florist. She created a bouquet of Eliza’s favorite multicolored tea roses and baby’s breath. Holding the arrangement close to her chest she entered the limo.

Miles parked in the underground garage of the brick office building off Park Avenue. He took Shanon’s hand as she exited the vehicle. Maggie looked over at Shanon with a radiant smile in the dark, damp garage. Her radiant smile enlightened the mood and physicality. Her bright pink dress accentuated natural curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The brilliant colors of Maggie’s wardrobe reflected an open, positive disposition. Her devotion to her friend who lost more loved ones in her life than those remaining in her life were the impetus to bring light.

Maggie was the color of Shanon’s life. A beauty with long legs, five feet seven of voluptuous curves, the contrast of Shanon’s stature of five feet five, small boned. Maggie’s color pallet of vibrant pink, orange, yellow was a start contrast to Shanon. Clearly Maggie was the opposite and light to Shanon’s life.

Stepping off the elevator to Mr. Pettybone’s conservative, void-of-light office. His secretary, dressed in gray with hair pulled sharply in a bun, greeted them. She was the force of contrast against the nervous attorney, leading them into Pettybone’s office, darker office, large space.

Pettybone sat in a worn high-backed leather chair. It was a comical contrast, a petite man with overassuming props. His enormous cherry oak desk lined with documents and law books in chaotic disarray.

Shanon stopped short in front of the desk, past two green obsolete high-backed velvet chairs that belonged in an antiques shop. To the right of the chairs, a brown distressed leather sofa. Pettybone stood up, extending his hand.

Ms. McNally, thank you for being prompt.

Shanon shook his hand. Mr. Pettybone, this is my friend, Maggie Martin. She will be sitting with me during the reading, then accompanying me to Maine.

Pettybone forced a sincere smile. Ms. Martin. He took her hand.

Ms. McNally, we are waiting for Constance Martinez and Rosalina Larson. They are on the elevator.

Shanon turned, facing the office door. Rosalina crossed the threshold first. Her deep brown eyes framed a jubilant face. She was still dressed in fresh white uniform with thick gray hair in relaxed band tucked under her collar. Rosalina saw Shanon, arms open.

Shanon rushed to her, embracing the woman who had been with Eliza longest. The one Shanon believed should have been the executor. Tears welled in Shanon’s eyes, a mixture of sorrow and guilt.

It’s all right, child. Eliza is where she wants to be. Missus missed her Ezra in quiet and courage. She gave me a message to give to you. You will not understand her wishes but know she had a reason for every choice.

Shanon kissed Rosalina’s cheek. Rosalina, you were her closest companion for thirty years. I may not understand her choices, but I understand her motives.

Constance walked into the room, moving to Shanon and Rosalina. Rosalina took her seat on the sofa to give time to Shanon and Constance. Shanon wrapped her arms around Constance, looking into her large dark eyes. This small Latino woman whose face had deep laugh lines, thick lips dressed in a smile, embraced missus’s daughter by choice.

We are doing well, Ms. Shanon. You do not need to worry about us. We carry her in our hearts. Remember, you brought her much love. In her heart you will always be her daughter.

Shanon kissed her cheek. Constance, you, Rosalina, Miles were her family, and we are her family. Eliza was every love of my life from now through eternity.

It is time to proceed, if everyone would take their seat.

This is the last will and testament of Eliza Rosenbaum on May 26, the year 2000. To the Jewish Holocaust Association, I leave the sum of five million dollars. To the Center for Jewish studies, the sum of ten million dollars.

To my dear Constance Martinez, I leave you three million dollars. Constance, you always admired my pearl necklace, earrings, and ring. They are yours as the gold music box you kept free of dust.

My Rosalina Larson, the sum of three million dollars, the silver service, and blue china set. You loved those dishes. Enjoy them.

My dear Miles, I leave you the Bentley, Mercedes, and two million dollars. If you desire, Miles, you may live rent-free in apartment 12A of my building.

Constance, Rosalina, Miles, you are my family. The penthouse will remain the residence for both Rosalina and Constance. The deed to the building will be under the care of Shanon McNally. Mr. Pettybone will handle all legal concerns and managerial acts for the property. If or when Shanon chooses to sell the property, she has the option one year preceding my death.

My dear Shanon, you will not understand this request at this time. I am confident you will come to realize clearly my request. I leave to you Seabrook Manor. I ask that you live in the residence for one year. If at the end of that time you choose to return to your home, you are free to sell the property.

On the property is a groundskeeper. The salary for the keeper falls under the responsibility of the estate. The manor is completely furnished as is decorated in the schemes you were most fond. Mr. Pettybone will turn the deed to the property over to you.

Shanon, I leave to you my entire art collection and library. Your love of literature and passion for knowledge will serve you. I believe you will find endless choices and opportunities in Seabrook, Maine. Remember, Shanon, nothing in this life happens by accident, and it is always for our greater good.

I leave you the balance of my estate in the amount of ten million dollars. As you know and have experienced, there are many, mostly children, who need guidance, love, and means to achieve.

Shanon, thank you for being the daughter I dreamed. Trust in what you cannot see, and never forget we are only limited by our thoughts. Love is unlimited, and courage will never define us but will elevate and give us the strength to do what we never imagined.

This concludes the reading of the last will and testament of Eliza Rosenbaum. Thank you for your patience. After Ms. McNally signs this document, I will authorize checks, registrations, and documents, which will be ready by Friday.

Shanon stood up slowly, with shock, guilt in the forefront. Eliza’s family of staff deserved everything. Eliza took care of each member in love, honor, and respect. She embraced each one in apologetic expression. In quiet confidence she spoke to them.

I did not dream Eliza would be so gracious to me. Eliza completed my life. She was my mentor, surrogate mother/grandmother, and confidante. I am who I am today because she loved me. Constance, she spoke of each of you with love, passion, respect, and devotion. I will never sell the building, penthouse, it is yours. I promise in Eliza’s name I will use this money to advance every cause she committed, every passion she inspired.

Miles took Shanon’s hand. We are all satisfied and gifted. It was our pleasure to serve the grand dame of all, Eliza Rosenbaum as Ezra. You know, Shanon, Eliza had a plan for all.

Rosalina took Shanon’s arm. Honey, you are her greater purpose, and she always had the plan, past, present, and future. You are going to carry on her work. We each received more than we will ever need.

After signing all the documentation, Mr. Pettybone insisted they make their way to the airport to Seabrook, Maine. After leaving the law office, Mr. Pettybone instructed Miles to stop at the Bank of New York. Pettybone escorted Shanon inside to the bank manager. Shanon signed the documents receiving ATM card and account information. Shanon wondered why Pettybone was rushing through all the formalities as if he was under some unforeseen critical timeline.

Shanon was silent on the drive to the cemetery. Her mind moved to the first time she met Eliza. One small decision, a life path forever altered. As they entered the cemetery, Mr. Pettybone phoned the representative to have the mausoleum unlocked. Shanon picked up the bouquet of flowers as Miles wound through the many narrow curves, finally parking.

Looking over to Maggie and Mr. Pettybone, her eyes fell upon the bouquet. I would like to go in alone, she spoke softly.

Miles opened the car door, taking Shanon’s hand. His eyes rounded in empathy. Shanon exhaled slowly, smiling softly at the elderly man at the entrance of the stone building. Walking inside, flowers cradled in her chest. The small shiny white casket with glowing brass accents next to Ezra’s final resting place. Tenderly, Shanon placed the flowers upon the casket.

I am here, Eliza, of course, you know this. Tears raced from Shanon’s eyes as a slight smile dressed her mouth. "I love you, Eliza. You brought me into your brilliant world, and each day was a gift. I learned more from you than I dreamed possible. I still hear your voice. I feel you, constant around me. I will live in Seabrook, Eliza. You have a reason, and I hope to figure it all out.

"I did not want your money, library, real estate, or this beautiful bracelet. Rest assured I have not and will not remove this bracelet from my wrist. I love the gift of the library. One day, I will read many of those books to my children. I will tell them of the amazing woman who graced my life. All I wanted, Eliza, was to share your world.

Eliza, the wealth you bestowed upon me, I will donate to elevate lives. You and Ezra created a legacy of selfless support. I will carry on in that support.

Shanon bent over and kissed the casket. A cool breeze flowed through the mausoleum. Shanon inhaled the fresh air and smiled, wiping away tears, looking up.

Yes, Eliza, I remember…there is no time for sorrow.

5

Shanon, Maggie, and Mr. Pettybone walked out of Portland International Airport. A cold burst of air greeted them. In late spring, the trees covered with buds, not leaves as in the Midwest. The bright chill cut as a sharp awakening blade through Shanon and Maggie’s thin spring attire.

They climbed into another limo destination, Seabrook. Seabrook was located in the northernmost part of Maine with the Bay of Fundy separating the United States from Nova Scotia. As they drove for hours, Shanon noticed signs designating Bay of Fundy.

What is the Bay of Fundy? Shanon inquired.

The driver laughed. Miss, it is known as the world’s largest bathtub. The water rises and falls as much as fifty feet each day. It is 170 miles long, straight sided, somewhat funnel shaped, which splits as its northeastern head into two narrow bays. It will be at our back door, miss.

Shanon and Maggie looked at each other, amazed by three-foot mounds of snow dotting Route 1A. Shanon was in awe with the breathtaking view of the rocky seacoast, hundreds of fishing and lobster boats lining the waters.

Maggie looked at Shanon laughing. You live next to the world’s largest bathtub.

Shanon grinned. I don’t know if I am more fascinated or curious.

The driver turned off the highway onto a long paved driveway shadowed by trees on each side. The driveway ended stopping in front of a majestic Victorian home. Shanon was mystified. This was not the description on the legal documents. This was not a cottage.

The home held three levels, white, trimmed in black accents. Two large bay windows on each side of the wide front door, each window framed with black shutters with two brick adjacent chimneys climbing past the roof. A large elm spread its budding branches on the left side of the home, on the right, smaller in stance oak trees. Surrounding the perimeter of the property from the driveway turnoff perfectly tailored bushes, with the east side of the property dotted with large pines and cedars. The height of the home obscured the view of the back property.

This is not a cottage, Mr. Pettybone.

"Ms. McNally, this is a type of cottage. In the late 1800s, a prominent sea captain constructed this home. There are six bedrooms. The master suite runs the length of the third floor. There is a large library on the main floor, and Eliza’s collection fills many of the built-in cherrywood shelves. The home is up to current specifications, still intact is the original woodwork with vaulted ceilings and many other historic attributes.

What you cannot see from this vantage point, the Bay of Fundy. If you will follow me to the back of the property, you will understand the reason Eliza purchased this property.

As they departed the vehicle, Shanon leaned into Maggie. What am I going to do with six bedrooms? This property must sit upon at least two acres of quiet beauty. Look at the woods, how lush and dense, directly across from us, maybe two hundred feet.

Shanon, remember Eliza wants you to live here. This is breathtaking. The historic Victorian cottage, meticulous landscape, this property and home is a mystic place. What history this property must hold.

It’s me and a Yorkshire terrier. What in hell are we going to do with this vast expanse of home, built in park?

Live in this place of paradise, Shanon.

Maggie, I have no reason or understanding why my entire world is to be changed.

Maggie wrapped her arm around Shanon’s shoulders. You will know, Shanon, when it is time to know.

A stiff breeze from the Bay washed over them. Maggie’s beautiful long, blonde curly locks whipped in the breeze.

I am freezing, Maggie, are you?

Yes, this is more like January in southwestern Iowa.

Shanon smiled. I guess we are not in Iowa anymore.

Ms. McNally, if you will follow me to the east side of the property, Mr. Pettybone spoke in his monotone voice.

They walked the equivalent of half a city block to the back of the property. Shanon looked to her left as a smile burst from her face. A garden of enchantment with buds bulging from the weight of new birth began at the base of the back door extending outward twenty feet. A row of perfectly manicured hedges surrounded the garden.

The back edge of the yard looked over the Bay. A sharp twenty-foot drop ended with the beach below. There were no trees in the back to impair the view of the mighty waters. Without reason or cause, encompassing warmth filled Shanon’s mind, body, and senses. Her heart raced as joy washed through her spirit. She turned her head slowly to the right, freezing in stunned bewilderment. Out on the point seated atop the rocks, a grand lighthouse facing the water in all its majesty. Tears of elation filled her eyes. One question now answered. This was home.

Shanon touched Maggie’s hand, still transfixed on the magnificent lighthouse.

It is spectacular, Shanon whispered with tears silently slipping from her eyes.

It is her perfect gift to you. Look up at the walkway surrounding the light, with the four windows perfectly placed. Your lighthouse resembles a tall snowman with buttons.

Every time I look up or out of the residence, I will think of her.

Shanon hid her emotions, turning to Mr.