It was Xeni’s turn then. She’d had more than enough time to find the words to join this parting chorus. So many things ran through her mind. How much her aunt had meant to her, the things her aunt had done for her, how complicated her aunts and her mother had made her life with their constant fighting, just how much she’d miss her. But Xeni kept all those things to herself, like she had done for most of her life. She swallowed the lump in her throat and said what she knew this particular group of people needed to hear.
“I want to thank you all for being here. I come from a family of singers, actors, public speakers, community organizers, and one thing I think we’ve perfected is the show. Everlys know how to perform and command a crowd, and my aunt was no exception. But I think when you’re so good at being on, a lot of people don’t get a chance to know the real you. My aunt was very intentional when it came to who she let into her life and how. It makes me very happy to know that she had you all and that she loved you all enough to let you in. As she would say, to be loved by Sable Everly was to be truly blessed.”
“Amen,” Lucy said.
“She lived an amazing life and all I want for her now is rest and joy.” Heat rushed up Xeni’s neck with the sudden, panicked realization that she’d been putting off for nearly three weeks. Her aunt was gone.
She didn’t wait for Reverend Pummel’s cue or whatever music Mason was going to play. She used the little bit of energy and composure she had left and slowly made her way to the very edge of the stream. She thought about the finality of it all. There was nothing anyone could do or say. No magic trick, no spell at the height of the new moon. No affirmation. Sable Everly had passed on and it was time for Xeni to let her go.
Xeni unscrewed the gold lid and carefully tipped the ashes into the swiftly flowing water. The small bits of grey and white and black were swallowed up and whisked away. Maybe they’d make their way out to sea, but Xeni hoped some forest creature like a deer or a bird that only sang in the early hours of the morning would drink them up and a piece of aunt Sable would live again.
She didn’t realize the ground was damp until she’d let her weight settle into the grass, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. She couldn’t be bothered with the small group of mourners who were watching her lose her shit. Xeni pulled her knees to her chest and then stared at the water. She wanted to cry, desperately needed to, but her body refused. Still, she needed just a moment to try and take it all in. She had about three seconds to pretend her pain was private before the unmistakable drone of bagpipe music rose behind her. Xeni had forgotten how fucking loud the bagpipes were. She closed her eyes against the sound and forced herself to breathe.
It was another ten seconds or so before Xeni realized what song he was playing. “Another One Bites the Dust” was a hilarious selection for a send off, but maybe not the most appropriate. Her head turned automatically. For some reason, she didn’t expect to see Mason looking back at her, his large brown eyes rimmed red. He continued to play even as she raised an eyebrow at him, questioning what exactly the fuck was going on, but all he did was shrug and roll his eyes, the sadness on his face disappearing for just a moment. Right. It wasn’t his song choice. He played about a quarter of the song Xeni hadn’t intentionally listened to since she was gifted Jock Jams on CD before shifting with shocking ease to “Let You Go.”
Xeni squeezed her eyes shut as the air left her lungs. She could hear her mom plain as day singing that song while she worked in the kitchen. Her Aunt Alice belting it out at a family reunion. She remembered the exact look on her Aunt Sable’s face when she found the notebook that contained her original lyrics. A love so strong, lost forever. The first hit that had landed the Everly Sisters at the top of the charts. They’d never sing it together again.
Mason played the final notes as Xeni continued to watch the flowing water, her breathing struggling to even out. She heard the sounds of footsteps heading back down the wooded path. After a while, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up at the kind and patient expression on Bess Thompson’s face.
“This is your place, for as long as you need it. Okay?”
Xeni nodded, then let out a deep, shaky breath. The breath carried a layer of pain with it. She’d miss her aunt for the rest of her life, but this was the way she wanted to say goodbye. This was the quiet moment she craved, away from the noise of her family. She knew the peace she felt was Aunt Sable herself, saying her goodbye, letting Xeni ago. She was still devastated, but grateful all at the same time.
She watched the water for a few minutes more, then she turned to Bess. “I’m starving,”
“Lucky for you, McInroy’s Cafe is open today and Mason is a good cook. Come on.”
Xeni stood and dusted off the seat of her pants. The damp spots would dry soon enough. She let Bess link their arms together and lead the two of them out of the forest.
2
“I don’t like that you’re there alone,” Xeni’s mother, Joyce, yelled through the phone. She didn’t quite grasp the concept of the car’s Bluetooth function. She didn’t need to raise her voice just because she was in the car.
“You could have come with me. I told you that.”
“No, I couldn’t. Knowing Sable, she’d have the locals waiting with shot guns at the town line just to keep us away.”
Xeni couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. “There were no guns for me. Just a man with two goats. I had to answer his riddles three before he was willing to get me to the town square. There, two witches with four goats waited for me. I—”
“Yeah, okay. That’s enough.”
“Everyone has been very nice and her friend Bess has been very accommodating.”
“At least someone has some kindness and common sense left in them.”
“What are you and Daddy doing tonight?” Xeni asked, changing the subject.
“Oh nothing. I’m on my way to pick him up from urgent care.”
“Is he okay?”
“Oh yeah, his shoulder is just acting up. I keep telling him he’s too old to be climbing up on roofs.” Xeni had to agree. Her step-dad was fit for his age, but he wasn’t young anymore. Roofing was tough work. A picture of her aunt’s house popped into her mind again. If she could sell it for enough, maybe her step-dad could afford to retire a little early. Or maybe they could keep it and use the rental income. She breathed out the compound guilt gnawing at her. She’d figure it out.
“That’s smart. Tell him to rest. I’ll call him later and nudge him to take it easy.”
“Please. He’ll listen to you. You find your grandma’s brooch yet?”
“No,” Xeni sighed. “I haven’t, and if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“There’s no if. I know she has it. Your grandmother told Hazel she could have it and—”
“Mommy, I know. As soon as I find it, I’ll let you know. I should go.”
“Okay. I love you. And remember, don’t feel guilty about whatever she’s left you. The house, a little bit of money. Your cousins already got their checks. I talked to Rosia before I left the house. I know your aunt left you a little more and the house and that’s yours. You do what you want with it.”
“I will.”
“But your grandmother’s jewelry—”
“Okay, I’m going!”
“Okay, okay. Call me when you're done.”
“I will.” She ended the call before her mom could go on another tear.
After she let out another deep breath, Xeni glanced up at the white, weather-beaten sign jutting out over the street. Bart Barber, Attorney at Law. Bess had already headed inside, but there were still a few minutes before their meeting with Mr. Barber began. She looked back down at her phone and opened the LetsChat app. She’d silenced notifications from the chattiest group in her phone, but she couldn’t miss the “36” backlit in bright blue next to the words INTERSECTIONAL FEMINISTS OF BENETTON.
Her thumb hovered above the screen for a few moments as she reconsidere
d jumping back into the conversation. Even though the girls were at work now, she knew it would only take a few moments before one of them responded. She wasn’t ready to do the catch-up and the debrief. She slipped her phone back in her bag and walked up the few worn stone steps into the brick Colonial. Inside, the only thing that made it seem like a converted office space was the furniture. Bess was sitting in one of the few chairs making up a small waiting area against the wall. An older White woman with dyed black hair sat behind a massive, cluttered desk next to a fireplace that looked like it had been built some time in the late seventeen hundreds.
“Martha, this is Xeni,” Bess said, motioning between them.
“Absolutely.” The woman stood, offering a bright smile. “Ms. Everly told me you were beautiful, but she undersold it. You are just lovely. And your hair!”
“Thank you,” Xeni said, sidestepping the woman’s curious grasp. She ignored the pained look on Martha’s face and waited.
“Yeah, well. Um, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll let Bart know you’re here.”
“Thank you.” Xeni lowered herself into a creaky wooden chair next to Bess. She looked around the office space, taking in the photos and the news clippings on the walls, and the old-timey maps of the town center. When she’d had enough of L.A., a quick trip to Palm Springs or Santa Barbara was usually enough to hit her reset button. Xeni couldn’t imagine moving to a small town like this, so far away from her friends and family.
“Martha’s harmless enough. They just—” Bess started to whisper.
“No, I get it. I get the same thing back home. I was in line at Whole Foods last week and this woman picked up her daughter and told her to feel my hair.” Xeni hadn’t done much beyond trim her ends in ten years. As a result, she had a gorgeous mane of long, thick natural hair. Fools from all walks of life were drawn to it.
Bess’s eyes sprang wide. “Mercy.”
“Used it as a teachable moment for the child, which her mother didn’t like. If you’re not going to tell your kids that human petting zoos are a thing of the past, I will.”
Bess chuckled quietly and patted Xeni’s knee. “I think Martha got the message.”
Martha reappeared a moment later, her bright smile refreshed. “Come on in, ladies. Bart will see you. Can I get you water or coffee?”
“I’m fine. Thank you, sweetie.”
“No, thank you,” Xeni added. She was already on edge. Lunch had provided the recharge she needed, but on the short drive back into the center of town, the gravity of part two of all of this finally hit her. She’d lost people before. Her grandparents, friends who had slipped away too soon. But she’d never been responsible for any part of the after.
She knew she could handle it. She was an Everly. She could handle anything. All she had to do was sit down with this Bart Barber and find out exactly what her aunt had left her. Then she was off to sit down with the realtor. Next came the biggest job, cleaning out the house and deciding what to do with it.
She tried not to think about work. The Whippoorwill School where she taught kindergarten had agreed to a three-week leave. She could negotiate longer if she needed, but beyond two months she would have to sit out the rest of the academic year. She couldn’t afford to do that and she didn’t want to. She needed to wrap things up here in New York, get back to her students, her family and friends, and get on with the rest of her life. It was how she coped with any level of extreme stress, looking forward and pressing on. She could and absolutely would do it. One step at a time.
She followed Bess and Martha down the hall into a conference room dominated by a large table. There was barely enough room for the twelve wooden chairs crammed around it. A pitcher of water and glasses were at the far end. Xeni took a seat next to Bess, both of them facing the door.
“Thank you again. I’m pretty overwhelmed right now.” Xeni said quietly.
“No need to thank me. Sable was always there when I needed her. And now I’m gonna be here for you.”
An older White man and a White woman in her late forties entered the room a few moments later.
“Mrs. Thompson. One day I’ll get you in here for the right reasons,” Bart Barber said. His tone was dry, but Xeni wasn’t entirely sure he was joking. Whatever was happening though, Bess was in on it.
“I’m not leaving my husband for you, Bart.”
“Yet. Miss Everly? This is Mora Jordan.”
“Your aunt’s financial advisor,” Ms. Jordan tacked on.
“Hello.” Xeni stood and shook both their hands.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry you had to witness the old folks flirting,” Mr. Barber said.
“I’ll allow it until Bess tells me otherwise,” she replied.
He shot her a firm nod before taking his own seat on the other side of the table beside Ms. Jordan. “We’re just waiting on one more person,” he said, “and then we’ll get started.” Almost on cue, Xeni noticed the atmospheric change of the front door opening. A second later she heard Mason McInroy’s voice.
“Been running late all day.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Martha replied. “Right this way.”
The moment she saw Mason’s giant frame fill the doorway, the wave of confusion that suddenly hit her was joined by another feeling she couldn’t explain. She watched as Mason actually had to duck and turn to squeeze into the conference room. She swallowed a weird pinch of anxiety and focused on why he was there.
“My apologies. Just had to get Shelby settled after the lunch rush. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Oh—” Xeni felt his gaze land on her. He seemed just as confused. “Should I come back?”
“Nope. We were just getting started. Have a seat,” Mr. Barber said.
Mason grabbed the back of the closest chair, then clearly had second thoughts as he pushed it back in. The width of the chair’s arms were not enough for him to sit comfortably. And that was if he could fit his legs under the table.
“I’ll stand if you don’t mind.”
“Fine by me,” Mr. Barber said as he nodded in Xeni’s direction.
She cleared her throat, a frown clouding her face. “Is there somewhere we can go where Mason can sit?”
“Oh, um,” Mr. Barber froze. The town was smaller than a gnat. Xeni doubted that he hadn’t seen Mason around, at the very least. He should have known that the cramped conference room wouldn’t accommodate him.
“Don’t worry about it, love. I’m fine. Plenty of headroom up here.” Xeni noted the high ceilings, but it still didn’t make it okay.
“Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Mason dipped his chin, then crossed his arms over his broad chest. The muscles of his forearms were kind of distracting, but she forced her eyes back in Mr. Barber’s direction.
“Right. We have a lot to cover, so I don’t want to say this won’t take long. I just want to clarify that. Ms. Everly asked that we speak to you both at the same time. We are here to clearly express her wishes and answer any questions you may have. Do either of you have any questions before we begin?”
Xeni had several dozen, but she knew it was best to let Mr. Barber get started. “No, I’m fine. Please go on.” Mason shook his head as well, then motioned toward the files Mr. Barber and Ms. Jordan had set out on the conference table.
Ms. Jordan began. “Ms. Everly had what most would consider to be a sizable estate. Mr. McInroy, she’s leaving to you a gift of one hundred thousand dollars.”
The air was immediately sucked out of the room, most of it going right to Xeni’s lungs, if the sudden tightness in her chest was any indicator. She glanced over at Mason and quickly discovered he had no poker face to speak of. One of his eyebrows was nearly in his hairline and his cheeks and neck were turning a stark shade of red. Both of them kept their mouths shut and let Ms. Jordan go on.
“Ms. Everly is leaving her daughter, Xeni Everly-Wilkins, the remainder of her estate. The property at Fifty-Four Maple Court in Kinderack, New York, a Mercedes E-
class sedan, a Toyota 4-Runner, the property at seventy-three Terry Lane in Oak Bluffs, Massachusetts. There are additional assets all valued at twenty-three million dollars. The properties are held in a trust. That means—”
“I’m sorry.” Xeni paused, struggling like hell to gather her thoughts. “How much? All of this is worth how much?”
“Twenty-three million dollars,” Ms. Jordan replied calmly, like that wasn’t a metric shit-ton of money to just drop on someone. And what was this about another house? “There is more. If you—”
“I—there has to be a mistake. I know my aunt has a little bit of money, but not that much. And she never mentioned a house in Massachusetts.”
“Miss Everly, I’ve been working with your aunt for nearly ten years now and my father was her advisor for the twenty years before I came on. I can assure you that this is an accurate accounting of Ms. Everly’s estate and we spoke at length about exactly what she wanted passed on to you.”
“Well, something isn’t right. You have me down as her daughter. I don’t know if there’s some legal loophole that says only her kids are entitled to all of this stuff, but I’m definitely not claiming that kind of money just to get caught up in some fraud charges.”
Ms. Jordan fell silent for a moment before she glanced over at Mr. Barber, but it was Bess that covered Xeni’s hand with her own.
“That part is also true,” Bess said.
“What are you talking about?” Xeni asked. She looked up as Mr. Barber stood and held out a piece of paper. It was a birth certificate. She looked it over and all the information looked right. Her name. Her place of birth, the right hospital. The spot for her father’s name was blank like it had always been. Her birthday was the same, February ninth. But one thing was off. Joyce Everly wasn’t listed as her mother. She blinked and focused harder on the dark ink. The name Sable Everly stared back at her.
Xeni Page 2
