Free Seize the Day by Curtis Bunn

vertically, slid them into my back pocket and covered them with my shirt.
    â€œHey,” I yelled out as I approached the top of the steps.
    â€œHey,” a voice yelled back.
    I became frightened. I had no idea why, but my first thought was that it was Walter, back from the dead, coming to get me for going through his belongings.
    My fear did not prevent me from moving slowly down the steps. I tried to mask my fear.
    â€œWho is that?” I yelled in a demanding voice.
    â€œWho are you?” came back the voice. It sounded like Walter’s voice, and I could tell he was moving closer to the stairs.
    Before I could get to the bottom, he slowly emerged from around the corner, and my heart pounded so hard I literally could hear it. I saw his foot first—a brown loafer, to be exact. I held my breath as he came into view. And I almost passed out when I saw him.
    It was Walter …or at least that was my first impression. He looked just like him and it jolted me so that I took a step back up the stairs. How could this be? I was so scared I could not move another inch.
    Our eyes met for several seconds before he said, “You’re Calvin, right?”
    My lips would not move. I was looking at a ghost and if I could have mustered the strength to run through a wall I would have.
    â€œI’m Donovan, Walter’s brother,” he added, and a relief came over me that was so strong I had to sit down on the steps.
    â€œMan, what the fuck ? You didn’t tell me you were coming this morning. And you didn’t tell me you looked just like Walter. You just scared the shit out of me. I thought you were Walter.”
    â€œOh, man. I’m sorry.”
    I placed my head into my shaking hands. Without lifting my head, I said, “What are you doing here?”
    â€œI came to figure out the financial situation,” he said. “I wanted to get here before my nephew.”
    I slowly raised my head then. I was angry. His brother was dead and he flew from California so he could “figure out the financial situation.”
    â€œThere is no financial situation to figure out. What needs to be figured out are his funeral arrangements.”
    â€œYeah, we’ll get to that. We’ll get to that. But there are other matters to tend to first.”
    â€œI don’t understand you—or your nephew,” I said. I did not care if he was offended or thought I was out of line. What could he do to me? I was already dying.
    â€œThis seems like nothing but greed to me. You didn’t talk to your brother, even though he tried to communicate with you, and even though you knew he was ill. And now that he’s killed himself, instead of feeling bad about not being there for him, you rush out here to find out about money? What kinda shit is that?’ ”
    â€œMan, this is none of your business,” he said, obviously angry, but a little embarrassed, too.
    â€œGuess what? It sure the hell is, because I found him. He wanted me to find him. And he e-mailed me. He reached out to me, probably because the brother he helped raise and his son that he did raise abandoned him. So based on Walter reaching out to me, I very much have something to do with everything.”
    I didn’t really believe that. It was family business and I wasn’t family. But I was there and I believed Walter did not want his brother for sure and maybe even his son to benefit from his hard work. I was anxious to read his will; it would tell the story. But I was not going to do it in front of Donovan. I wasn’t even going to let him know I found it.
    â€œThe bottom line,” he said, “is that he was my brother and his son and I are his only surviving family. So, whatever he does have is left to us. It’s just a matter of how much it is.”
    He spoke so coldly and dispassionately. There was no compassion for his brother. It was a business trip for him.
    It made me angrier. “Don’t