The Good Atheist Read Online Free

there’s the rub. It’s tomorrow afternoon.” His tone was apologetic. “We’ve been trying to locate you since your grandfather passed away. Your mother refused any contact with your father’s side of the family and moved around a lot. You weren’t easy to find. ”
    “Where?”
    “Aylmer, in northern Vermont. Your grandfather lived there.”
    I stared at the envelope, not sure I wanted to open it. Abrams filled the silence. “I know this is very short notice. You don’t have to attend the funeral if you can’t make it tomorrow. But you will want to come up soon to view the property and go through the cottage. You will need to make some decisions about what you want to do with it before too long.”
    He looked at his watch and stood up. “I’m sorry to have to run, but if I don’t leave now I’ll miss my flight.”
    I remembered my manners and stood up with him. “Thanks for coming down.”
    “Do you have near field communication enabled on your phone?”
    “Yes, I keep it on.”
    “Then my phone has already sent my contact information over to your device so you’ll know how to reach me. I hope to see you tomorrow. There are a lot of people looking forward to meeting you.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “How’s that?”
    “We’ve known Ben for many years. He wasn’t just a client, but a close personal friend as well and he talked often about you. I already felt as if I knew you before I came down.”
    Richard put on his coat and we shook hands. “Let me know when you’re coming up and I will take you out to see the cottage.”
    I thanked him for coming, we said a final goodbye, and he left. When he was gone through the front doors I tore the envelope open. There was a single folded sheet of paper inside and I slipped it out. Unfolding it, I found a short, hand-written paragraph in very neat, surprisingly legible cursive in the middle of the page. I sat down to read it.
     
Jack, if you are reading this, then I’m no longer of this world. Your father and I never meant for things to happen the way they did, and I’m sorry that this letter found you before I could. I’ve left my cottage and everything in it to you. I believe you will find the answers you need inside the cottage.
     
    I wondered what he meant by ‘find the answers you need’. What questions did he imagine I had? I wiped the tears from my eyes and hurried to catch my bus home.
     
    • • •
     
    We have a studio apartment on the forty-second floor of a modern high rise, home to ten thousand other souls packed like sardines into the tower of steel and concrete. It wasn’t much, but at least we owned it, and we did our best to make it home. I even had a plot of land – a small planter hanging from the balcony railing in which I cultivated a tomato plant. Every now and then it managed to squeeze out some small round red fruit that I could harvest and slice up for sandwiches or salads.
    The living room was open with high ceilings and tall windows. A large lavender rug defined a living area in the middle, with a couch and chairs and glass coffee table next to the windows overlooking the city. On a clear day we could see glimmers of Lake Michigan beyond the downtown skyline. The kitchen was open to the rest of the apartment, with a counter and stools and everything I needed to cook, which I did as much as possible but not nearly as often as I’d like. Down the hall was a small bedroom with an en-suite bathroom.
    The house system recognized the chip in my finger and opened the front door as I approached. I stepped inside and a deep, throaty voice greeted me. “Good evening, darling. I’ve missed you.”
    “Ellie, is that you?”
    “Of course it is, hon. It’s so good to see you.”
    “You sound like a nightclub singer who’s been up smoking cigarettes and drinking scotch all night.” Last night her voice was high pitched and cowering.
    “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment, honey.”
    “Has Selene been messing with your