by Stella
“She succeeded there. But hey, if you get to parts you don’t understand, you have the lawyer’s number.”
“I’m sure it’s not that complicated.” At least I hoped it wasn’t. If I had to call the attorney with a ton of questions, then it defeated the point of my handling this, to begin with.
“I hate to cut it short, but I’ve got to get downstairs. Try to stay awake today. And tell my little man I love him.”
“I will.”
“And make sure you give Mac plenty of attention while I’m gone. I think Stevie’s made her feel a little unwelcome. There’s definitely a jealous streak a mile wide running through the garage.”
“I’m not driving that car, Gage.”
“Poor thing, she’s going to feel like the redheaded stepchild. Maybe you could just go out and sit in her. You know, turn her engine on to warm her up, twist her knobs a bit.”
“How is it that you have the ability to make everything sexual?”
“I didn’t tell you to do it naked.” The brow above his dual-colored eye quirked. “But if you decide al fresco is the way to go, make sure you FaceTime me. And if it’s during the game…never mind, you’ll be glued to the TV.”
“If your head gets any bigger, we’re going to have to name your ego.”
“Speaking of names. Now that we know I was right”—telling Gage we were having a boy proved to be a chance for him to gloat at every turn—“have you considered any of the ones I’ve suggested?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
We’d had this discussion over and over. I refused to name our child after his bromance with Coby. It didn’t matter how many different ways he could mix the letters up, it was weird.
“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” I tossed that shiny penny in the air hoping it would catch his attention.
“Oh, shit. Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Hopefully, we won’t find out.
“Pay someone to follow you around and handle your crap the way you have for years before me.”
“That wasn’t nearly as personal. This works much better.”
“Never slept with Bill, huh?”
“Negative. Have you seen that guy? He’s covered in more hair than a wooly mammoth.”
“But with a decent wax job, you might consider it?” One of the things I loved most about Gage was the playful banter he never took seriously.
“It would take a lot of wax.” He appeared to contemplate the idea while staring at the ceiling. And then—as if someone had smacked him—he remembered, again, that he had somewhere to be…and that wasn’t on the phone with me. “I’ll call you tonight if it’s not too late.”
“Good luck.”
He winked and disconnected. I lay there for a few minutes, still holding my phone and staring at the screen, enjoying the smile he’d left on my lips. When things were like this with Gage, the time alone seemed bearable and worth the sacrifice.
“The will isn’t going to read itself.” I hoped that talking to myself during pregnancy was normal because I’d taken to doing it quite often. I tried to pretend I was talking to the baby, but he frequently failed to respond.
Typically, whenever Gage was in the room, or he could hear his voice on FaceTime, he’d turn in circles like my womb was a merry-go-round. It didn’t bode well for me that Gage excited him in utero. I didn’t even want to contemplate what I’d face when the two of them could have conversations, and God help me when they could plot behind my back. Parents were supposed to be their children’s voice of reason—Gage would be the instigator. Even though I knew before he got here that I’d have to be the bad cop in the parenting duo, I couldn’t wait to see my son play with his father.
I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress and pulled my hair down to retie it. I didn’t have anyone to impress, but Medusa wasn’t a good look even if I was alone. And bedhead was a real struggle with curly hair. “I hope you don’t get Mommy’s hair.”
There was a little kick to my ribs, but it felt more like he was telling me to leave him alone while he slept than the excitement of starting a day.
I still hadn’t bought any maternity clothes—sweats worked just fine if I never left the house—so I slipped on the last pair Gage wore while he was home. I glanced in the mirror, pleased with my reflection. The fitted white tank top showcased the boobs the baby blessed me with and accentuated my protruding belly. Gage’s pants hung low on my hips, under the bulge. Rolled up, they didn’t look half bad. My hair was a disaster, but my cheeks glowed a soft pink. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought I looked good without makeup.
With my hands on my stomach, I pressed my chin to my chest. “It’s going to be a good day. You ready to get working? Of course you are.” It was official—I’d lost my mind. Pregnancy had stolen the final working brain cell. It was one thing to talk to myself, it was quite another to respond.
The hardwood floors were cold on my bare feet, but putting socks on already took more effort than I cared to exert. I bopped down the stairs and into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Gage thought he had me fooled putting decaf in a regular bag—any true coffee drinker can smell the difference long before the first sip hits their taste buds. It wasn’t my first choice, but it was better than nothing at all.
While the coffee brewed, I grabbed the envelope off the counter that I’d picked up from Granny’s attorney. After sticking the metal bracket under the nail of my thumb and dancing around with my finger in my mouth, I finally pulled out the stack of papers. The power of attorney was on top, fully executed. Then the final will and testament, which Gage was right, must have been half an inch thick. A plain white envelope slipped from the stack and fell to the floor. Nothing was on the outside, so I put it with the power of attorney.
With a fresh cup of coffee in hand, I went to the living room and took my spot on the couch. The blanket on the back found its way onto my feet, and then I flipped the first page to start reading the will. I was only three pages into it when I yawned. The couch was probably not the place to do this—far too comfortable. At this rate, I’d be taking a nap before noon. The kitchen counter offered zero amenities, although it was close to the coffee pot, so that worked in its favor.
The first few pages were straightforward and easy to understand. There was a statement of her desire for natural death and the events that might lead to it—no longer relevant. It was followed by her health care power of attorney—again, not important here. Her funeral and burial had already been handled. A list of debts and expenses followed that along with information on filing her taxes after her death. All of it was straightforward. With no minor children or grandchildren that she’d had to consider, there wasn’t much left. The final segment addressed her division of assets, but even at that point, I was only halfway through the document. I flipped through the pages to see amendment after amendment as she’d changed her will over the years.
I dog-eared the page to mark my place and stopped to find a pen and piece of paper to make notes. The first thing I needed to check on was whether or not Gage had filed her taxes for last year, or had someone else do it.
My stomach growled, and the baby kicked in agreement. “All right, all right. Give me a minute.” I rummaged around in the fridge and took out leftover pork chops and vegetables. “Does a little piggy—” I stopped myself mid-sentence. The baby didn’t get to vote on lunch. And until there was actually a child in my arms, I vowed not to use the word piggy again.
I cut up the pork and tossed it in a bowl with the veggies to throw in the microwave. Simple worked for me, and the fewer dishes I had to wash the better. It was all going to the same place anyhow. When the timer rang, I pulled out my lunch and grabbed a fork. Confident I could read and eat at the same time, I propped the pages open with my coffee mug on one side and the sugar container on the other.
Midway through the first paragraph I nearly choked on the food in my mouth. This couldn’t be right. I reread it three tim
es before I set the bowl on the counter and dropped the fork in it. Frantically, I flipped through the following pages, but there was nothing. No explanation, no date, no amendment to indicate when it was added. I flipped it over, double-checked the manila envelope the will came in, zilch.
Cell phone. I needed my phone. I raced up the stairs—no longer able to take two at a time—holding the rail with my right hand and my belly with the other. Once I reached Gage’s room, I threw the pillows on the floor and ripped the comforter off the bed. I couldn’t grab it fast enough, and my fingers fumbled with the screen, touching the wrong apps and opening things I didn’t intend to open before I finally found the contact I searched for.
The receptionist put me through, and I held my breath waiting for the call to connect.
“This is Cort Lancaster.” Later, I’d laugh that Gage’s wealth management guy was named Bill, and his attorney was named Cort—just not now.
“This is Katie Crisp. I’m helping Gage Nix—”
“Of course. I know who you are.” Great, another asshole who’d seen the news and believed everything he saw on television. “Gage speaks very highly of you.” Or not. “How can I help you, Ms. Crisp?”
I stammered through the question I tried to ask before I was able to spit out. “Are you sure the division of assets is correct?”
“Yes. Mrs. Nix changed her will a few years before she passed away. I was actually the one who wrote in the changes for her. She was very specific about what she wanted.”
“There has to be a mistake.”
“No, I assure you there’s not. If you tell me what you’re struggling with, I can certainly clarify it for you.”
“I understand the language, I don’t understand the reason.”
“Did you not get the letter with the paperwork you picked up?”
I got whatever was in the package. “I’m not following you. You’ll have to excuse me, I’m a little overwhelmed right now.”
He chuckled, although, for the life of me, I didn’t know what he thought was so funny. “There should have been an envelope with the documents you picked up. Start there. It should answer your questions. But feel free to call me back if you don’t find it. We have a copy of the contents on file.”
“Umm…okay. Thank you.”
Clutching my phone to my chest like it was a coveted piece of property, I slowly proceeded down the stairs, unsure I wanted to know what was inside the other envelope. I contemplated telling Gage the next time he called that the will was too complex and that I didn’t understand it just to avoid breaking that seal. But the thought of disappointing him or letting him down outweighed my fear. I needed to have all the information in order to consider how to handle it. Burning it wasn’t an option—Gage would just get another copy. And I doubted I could convince him the dog ate it since we didn’t have a pet. As tempting as the garbage disposal was, it would only delay the inevitable.
My hands trembled when I picked up the envelope and slid my finger under the flap. There wasn’t a name on the outside, so I could only hope I wasn’t about to open something that wasn’t meant for me. But the moment I unfolded the paper inside and saw her handwriting, my name stood out like a beacon.
My sweet Katie,
Her voice rang in my ear as though she were standing next to me holding my hand. Tears welled in my eyes, and I covered my mouth when I gasped for breath.
I never imagined when Gage hired you how special you were. Over the years, you became my closest friend and the daughter I’d hoped my own would grow into. Every day that I got to see your smile and hear you laugh made me grateful for all the joy you brought to my life. Your loyalty and friendship were worth far more than I’m able to leave you in return, but I hope you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just how much I love you.
If you’re reading this, then I’m no longer around to comfort you and reassure you that all will be well. But I promised you years ago that I’d make sure you were always cared for, and even if I’m not there, I wanted to make certain your needs were met. You trusted me with blind faith that day, and I hope I didn’t let you down.
Please know, careful consideration was made when I rewrote my will to include you. You will always have a place in my home and a seat at my table. And I hope you’ll consider staying even after I’m gone. While I know you and Gage are not close, he will need you the same way I did. He has a soft spirit and a gentle heart. Take care of him. He’s a good boy—I know he will struggle with my passing.
Don’t let your past define you or allow the world to drag you down. Live life to the fullest, and love without apology. Somewhere out there, maybe closer than either of us know, is a soul waiting to find yours. When it does, don’t be afraid to let those fireworks light up the night. You deserve the very best.
With all my heart,
Granny
I sank to the floor with the single piece of paper shaking in front of me. There, I read it again and again. I could feel her presence and hear her voice through each word. And I’d give back everything she’d left me just to have one more day with her, one more cup of coffee, one more afternoon on the front porch.
I hadn’t watched the game last night, and I’d missed Gage’s phone call when he got back to the hotel. It was after midnight, and I was asleep. Then when he called this morning, I was in the shower. Normally, I’d call him back, but there was no chance I’d be able to hide this from him. He’d see it all over my face, and I refused to risk telling him about Granny’s will while he was away. I couldn’t imagine how upset he’d be when he found out what she’d done. What I failed to take into consideration, was the lengths he would go to in order to track me down.
The doorbell rang once, and then seconds later, it chimed…over and over again. It probably wasn’t the smartest move to race down the stairs to whip the door open ready to cuss out whatever reporter stood on the other side. I should have thought it through, looked through a window, something. I scared the crap out of Corinne when I yelled, “What?” at the top of my lungs.
She instantly burst into tears, and I glanced at Ellie to see shock all over her face. I was a sight to behold, but that would have to wait.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I kneeled and pulled Gage’s best friend into my arms. “I’m so sorry. I thought it was someone else.”
“Eighty scawed me.” Her back jerked with each hiccup. She finally let go, and those big, blue eyes punched me in the gut.
“Will you forgive me?”
The tears stopped immediately, and she dropped her hands from her face. “Do you have a sucker?” This kid was good.
I chuckled at how easily she could be bribed. “Only if you don’t tell Gage.”
“He not wike suckers.” Corinne appeared confused.
“No, he doesn’t. But he would be very upset with me if he knew I’d scared you. Can it be our secret?”
“I won’t tell him. I pwomise.” She batted her eyelashes, and I wondered if Gage taught her that trick. “But you give Mama a sucker too, so she won’t tell.”
“We can probably arrange that.” I took her tiny hand and mouthed an apology over my shoulder to Ellie, who followed us and closed the door.
Gage kept a stash of candy in the pantry just for Corinne…right next to the Nutella. I pulled down the bag and let her pick which piece she wanted. I cringed when she grabbed the Blow Pop, envisioning all the things a three-year-old could do with a piece of gum coated with crystallized sugar.
“Can you put it in your pocket for later? It’s a little early in the morning for candy.” I hoped Ellie didn’t slash our tires on her way out for me not asking.
“Age never make me wait.” That was something she and Ellie could take up with Gage.
I looked at Ellie and realized I had no idea why either of them were here at nine in the morning, and then my heart strummed a rhythm in my chest that was so fast I thought I might pass out. “Is everything okay? There’s nothing wrong with Gage, is there?” I hadn’t answered his call
s, and it dawned on me he could have been trying to reach me for something other than idle chitchat.
“Oh, no. He’s fine.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “Well, unless you count him calling Coby panicked because he couldn’t reach you.”
“Ahh. And you got sent to check up on me?” I motioned for her to take a seat at the table while I started a pot of coffee and got out two mugs.
“You don’t look so good. Are you all right, Katie?”
“Her misses Age, Mama.” She’d totally ignored my request and peeled the wrapper off her sucker. I prayed she was a licker and not a biter—I didn’t want to go in search of where she’d left the gum when it ran out of flavor.
“I had a tough day yesterday and slept through his calls. I didn’t realize he’d send out a search party.”
“He’s nothing if not persistent. And he cares about you.”
I brought the sugar and creamer to the table along with the cups and pot of coffee. “It’s decaf, but once you get past the weak flavor and strange aftertaste, it’s not so bad.”
“Gage?” she asked as she filled her mug.
“How’d you guess?”
“Just lucky.” She stirred in the creamer she added along with the sugar. “So…what do you want me to tell him?”
The huff that escaped my lips was more dramatic than it needed to be. “I’m fine. I just didn’t want him to see me upset.”
“Is that what fine looks like in your world? Because it looks like emotional heartache in mine. I’m a good listener if you want to talk.”
She’d find out sooner or later. I got up and retrieved the letter I’d read yesterday and sat back down when I handed it to her. I watched as Ellie’s eyes filled with tears and she swallowed hard. When she finished, she just stared at me for several long minutes. “Do I want to know what she left you?”
“Everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she gave Gage the house, and everything else she owned, including all of her bank accounts, life insurance, stocks, bonds…it’s all mine.”
