Olivia chuckled. “She was always so cinematic, that lady.”
“True. The world lost someone very special. Magic, we can never get back,” Dave returned.
Olivia paused for a second. The heaviness of Marcia’s death smacked against her chest yet again.
“I’ll see you up there tonight, then?” he asked, as though he had expected her to try to get out of it.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Olivia replied. “I just finished up the last class. Only a few thousand papers to grade and then I can get out of here.”
“You work too hard, Liv,” her father said. “Just like your mom always did. Teaching can be such a thankless job.”
“Good thing I love it. Guess I’m a fool,” Olivia said as she smiled to herself.
OLIVIA HUSTLED BACK to her little house at 289 Captain’s Walk. She lived just a few blocks from the high school, which was convenient, as there was nothing Olivia liked more than to daydream while she walked both to-and-from school. Now, as her boots crunched through the snow, and still more large thick snowflakes floated around her, she turned the page back in her mind on a memory that, at times, felt painful.
The very first time she had ever kissed Tyler, they’d discovered her Great Aunt Marcia in the throes of passion with a stranger Olivia had never seen before. In the wake of that incident, Marcia and Olivia had had something of a connection — nothing they’d ever translated to anyone else in the family. Obviously, Olivia had told her best friends about the incident, but they had kept the secret hush-hush.
“Imagine being in your sixties and still sneaking off for a romantic escapade like that!” Michelle had said after she’d first heard the story. “I want to be just like that when I’m older—living wild and free with not a care in the world.”
The memory of these words cut through Olivia like a knife. Michelle had never lived past the age of seventeen.
It seemed entirely unfair that Great Aunt Marcia had been allowed about ninety years on the planet, and Michelle had only been given seventeen. Still, Olivia’s heart ached with love for both of them. The world was a sadder place without their souls, that was for sure.
Back at the house, Olivia looked at the calendar to see that Chelsea had a double-shift at the diner that day, which meant Olivia would miss her before she had to head to the reading of the will. The house felt dark and forlorn without her. Hurriedly, Olivia turned on the speakers to play a Beethoven symphony and then set to work on grading her student’s papers. When she glanced up again nearly two hours later, it was time to dress and prepare for the emotional event ahead.
Olivia donned a dark green dress with a high neck, styled her hair, and slipped on the earrings her Great Aunt Marcia had gifted her for her fortieth birthday the year before. When they’d met for coffee at the Frosted Delights Bakery on her birthday, Marcia had demanded when Olivia planned to “get back out there.”
“Darling, you’re still terribly young, you know. Just because Tyler took off to God-knows-where —”
“Aunt Marcia, I told you. He’s in Boston. It’s not God-knows-where, it’s just Boston.”
“Well, wherever he is, he isn’t here, is he? And it’s time for you to meet someone who will take care of your needs —”
“Aunt Marcia!” She’d clapped her hands on her ears and gaped at her. Of course, an enormous smile had been splayed out across her face.
“Come now, girl. We know each other. You know exactly what kind of life I’ve lived,” Aunt Marcia had told her then. “And it’s time for you to have the bravery to do the same.”
The reading of the will was held at Great Aunt Marcia’s rather large and historic home, located just off of Main Street in Edgartown. It was the same house in which Marcia had been born, over ninety years before, and it was the site of countless memories for Olivia, her brother, her sister, her father and her mother, and even the other Sisters of Edgartown. The place had been a near-constant passageway during beautiful Edgartown summer days and Great Aunt Marcia had always had desserts or wine on-hand for cozy, spontaneous chats.
These had been a blessing for everyone who had stopped past, but most of all, Olivia knew, Marcia had loved them dearly. All three of her children had left the island in their twenties and gone on to create very successful lives off the island. Her grandchildren, too, had wanted little to do with Martha’s Vineyard unless they came for a few weeks in the height of the summer season. Her family reeked of money but seemed to have little time to spend with one another.
It was basically the exact opposite of everything Olivia believed in.
She believed in family, love, and companionship. As a teacher on a teacher’s salary, with an ex-husband, Tyler, who hadn’t bothered to pay much in child support, Olivia hadn’t had the luxury of extra money. She hadn’t needed it.
Olivia entered the foyer of the old house to discover her brother, Jared, alongside her sister, Sara, who lived off the island. Olivia hadn’t expected Sara to return for the reading, and she hustled up to her and threw her arms around her. Sara cackled into her ear.
“Don’t be so boisterous. Aunt Marcia’s kids and grandkids will find a way to kick us out,” she teased.
Olivia chuckled softly and fell back to beam up at her older sister. There were only three and a half years between her and Sarah, but there was a full six between her and her brother, Jared. Olivia was the baby of the family. Sometimes, she still felt like it.
“What’s up? Have you talked to them?” Olivia whispered.
Sara shook her head. “Nope. But Dad says that Marnie is engaged to some developer guy who sees the island as a big-ticket to cash in on huge funds.”
“Great.” Olivia flared her nostrils. What was it with developer types wanting to come and mess up their beautiful Martha’s Vineyard ecosystem and take all the money themselves? “It’s not like Marnie even knows anything about the Vineyard or the Islanders or...”
“Didn’t you say that Jennifer got herself roped in with a developer?” Jared asked then. “He wanted to destroy the Frosted Delights, or ...?”
“Not the Frosted Delights!” Sara cried, glaring up at her brother.
“Don’t worry,” Olivia said with an ironic laugh. “You know Jennifer Conrad, don’t you? Well, Mr. Developer guy has fallen head over heels for her, and now the Frosted Delights Bakery will probably outlive us all.”
“That’s a classic Conrad girl story,” Sara stated. “I remember it before I left the island. If Jennifer or Michelle Conrad wanted something, the world found a way to give it to them. It was almost ridiculous.”
Olivia smiled sadly. Her sister squeezed her elbow as though to say; I hope my bringing up Michelle didn’t hurt you. But before Olivia could say another word, their father and mother walked past them and ushered them into the larger room.
“It’s time,” her mother hissed. “Don’t be late.”
“How many times has she told us not to be late to something?” Sara whispered as they eased along behind them to join the crowded room. “I swear, she can still guilt trip me, even at forty-four years old.”
“I don’t think you ever outgrow it,” Jared agreed. “It’s exhausting.”
Chapter Two
Great Aunt Marcia’s lawyer stood at the front of the large room. Behind him hung a beautiful portrait, which a famous painter had created of Marcia when she’d been in her early twenties. In it, she sat in a flood of beautiful light, a book stretched out across her thighs and a bright white dress billowed out around her, almost as if it was swallowing her. Of the painting, Marcia had commented, “I wanted to burn that dress after he had me sit in that position for so long. It was itchy and far too small for my waist. And beyond that, I spent very little of my twenties reading a book. Even after my children were born, I ensured I hired plenty of nannies so I could keep up my lifestyle.” After this, she’d winked.
“Good evening,” the lawyer announced as he looked around the room. “I suppose many of you don’t know me.
My name is Walton Beverly, and throughout the previous ten years, I have worked with the marvelous Marcia Hesson Sonders to ensure that her estate is passed along appropriately to the people who mattered most in her life.”
The room became deathly quiet. Olivia lifted her chin slightly to whisper to Jared. “See them? Casper and Chloe? Up at the front?” They were Great Aunt Marcia’s children, but Olivia hadn’t seen them in decades, it seemed like.
“They’re so old these days,” Jared returned.
“Mom and Dad’s age,” Olivia said.
“And there’s Marnie and Quintin,” Jared said, nodding toward Marcia’s grandchildren, Casper’s children. They gazed at the lawyer hungrily. “They’re about to make out like bandits, I guess.”
“Pretty sure they already have a pretty nice life,” Olivia mused with a funny smile.
“Marcia always said her grandchildren were scoundrels,” Jared said. “She loved them to bits, though.”
“She had a lot of love to give around,” Olivia breathed. “But I always thought she liked us because we stuck around.”
“She liked you,” Jared corrected as he looked at his little sister. “She usually looked right through me.”
Olivia rolled her eyes, even as she recognized the truth in his words.
“As many of you know, Marcia was something of a character,” the lawyer continued. “In that she wrote this letter and demanded that I read it word-for-word, to ensure that every last one of you had to hear from her one final time before you received your inheritance.”
There was light laughter from the audience. Olivia noticed that Marcia’s children and grandchildren didn’t even smile— they hardly knew anything about the woman’s character or sense of humor, for that matter. How awful.
“Shall we begin? Okay.” The lawyer cleared his throat and then continued. “If you are hearing these words, my beauties, then I have sliced my mortal coil and cast myself into that wonderful darkness of the next life. Assuredly, I have found a way to haunt at least a few of you — namely, my next-door-neighbor, Thomas, who managed to kill my Black-Eyed Susan flowers only just last summer, and also, my school friend, Tabitha, who once poured black ink over my favorite sweater. The fact that this incident was a mistake holds no bearing on my wish to haunt her. Tabitha, if you are truly in the audience — all ninety years of you — then hello, and no, I haven’t forgotten.”
A very old woman in the center of the audience cackled aloud. Jared and Olivia made heavy eye contact and whispered, “Tabitha!” They’d met the old woman several times over the years. Marcia had always introduced her as her “oldest school friend, but never the most loyal.” Naturally, everyone had known Tabitha had been loyal till the very end.
“In any case, we must begin with my children, mustn’t we? For if there’s anything this world cares about, it’s the idea that you’ve procreated and then must pass along your belongings to these creatures.
“To my children, Casper and Chloe. You were nothing if not tremendously disappointing. Naturally, my love for you remained firm and stalwart through every storm you brought. Chloe, when you were arrested for drug use in Thailand as a young, spontaneous twenty-something trying to find herself, and Casper, throughout each and every one of your failed business dealings, until you finally picked one that stuck.
“To each of you, of course, I leave one-quarter of my wealth, along with this house in which you stand now but on one condition, of course. The house must be kept in the family. You will not be allowed to sell it. My lawyer will watch you like a hawk on this. In fact, why don’t you set up shop here for a bit? Both of you are retired. It is time, my children, to return to the nest, to your island, to the world I brought you up in! If not now, then when?”
The mood in the room was very strange. Casper and Chloe both looked slack-jawed and embarrassed, yet quite pleased, of course, with their inheritance. The fact that their mother wanted them to return home was no doubt an annoyance, but one they would ignore. Olivia prayed the house wouldn’t go to ruin.
“Next, we have my grandchildren, Quintin, and Marnie upon whom I placed such hope. You will both receive one-sixth of my wealth, along with a number of items, which my lawyer will recite to you at a later date. I pray that, as you’re both in early middle age, you will find ways to better yourselves, your relationship with your parents, and your opinion of the world. I regret that I never had much say in your upbringing. I regret more that we never became very good friends.”
The lawyer cleared his throat and then continued the reading of the will. Olivia shifted her weight nervously and watched as the lawyer was forced to put various members of Marcia’s extended family and friends through hot water. This was her final trick, her final story. Olivia was fully impressed.
Toward the end, Olivia’s father was finally named.
“To my darling nephew, Dave. Goodness, you’re one of the good ones, aren’t you? Always there to lend a hand or listen to an old lady go on and on and on. I remember we bonded years ago over my record collection. We spent hours listening to all your favorites, like David Bowie and Led Zeppelin — things you told me, back then, weren’t appropriate for an old lady like me. I guess I never really got over that, did I? In any case, I’ve left you my tremendously large record collection, along with the stereo system and the antique commode in which I kept everything. Beyond that, I’ve left you the antique chessboard, which I know you loved a great deal. I can’t remember a single time I even nearly beat you at that godforsaken game. Your brilliance is unmatched.”
At this, Dave turned his head to catch Olivia’s eye. His were filled with tears. Olivia beamed at him and mouthed, “Fully deserved. She loved you so much.” He nodded back and gave a silly shrug.
Several minutes later, as Olivia’s stomach tried to eat itself from the inside with ravenous hunger, the lawyer reached the final stage of the will.
“Olivia Hesson, my beautiful great-niece. I don’t suppose you thought you would be included on this list, did you?”
Olivia jumped slightly. Jared muttered, “Told you so,” into her ear, as one by one, Casper, Chloe, Quintin, and Marnie turned their eyes toward her to deliver insidious dirty looks.
“But that’s just like you, Olivia. Already counting yourself out when there’s still so much to be done. You were always such a dreamer, a reader, a lover of things that existed only in your imagination. A long time ago, we had a chance encounter that makes me laugh to this very day. I won’t record it here; I know it’s essential that you keep some things from your parents, even into middle age.
“My grandfather owned one of the most historic mansions on all of Martha’s Vineyard. This was then passed to my father, who passed it on to me in the wake of his death. Over previous years, I have tossed around the idea of building it back to its former glory as a homage to my family and to the history of the island itself. I now pass along that task to you, Olivia. I know no one else more deserving that will give it the loving tender care that it so needs.”
Olivia’s jaw dropped. Now, her brother, sister, father, and mother stared at her with enormous, bright eyes. They were all just as stunned as she was.
The house—that beautiful, historic, daydream of a house, right next to the beach, and surely crumbling into oblivion after so long without the care it required. It was now hers. And Aunt Marcia expected her to build it back to its former glory.
How?!
“Oh, and also. I know you always craved those first editions of the Charles Dickens novels. You can have those, too, darling. To be honest with you, you’re assuredly the only person on this island who reads anymore. It’s a lost art, isn’t it? I pray you won’t spend too much time with them, though, Olivia. Please. Get out there and live without regret.”
Only a few more minutes had passed before the lawyer finalized. At this, the crowd burst forth into wild conversation. Olivia fell back against the wall and stared into the space before her. Several of Aunt Marcia’s old friends rushed toward h
er to congratulate her on the old house.
“That place has so much potential!” one woman said.
“I can’t believe it. We’ll finally see the old place in its former glory!”
They said it without fully recognizing that Olivia knew nothing about restoration. She knew nothing about interior design. The only power she had was a unique love for history and art. Last she checked, love for something was pretty useless in and of itself.
“Wow. I don’t even think I know where that place is,” Sara breathed as others continued to stream past them.
Olivia sighed. “I do. But I’ve only been there a handful of times.”
“Crazy she put this on you,” Sara said.
That moment, Marnie burst toward her. Beside her was a handsome, surly-looking man—a man who seemed to have been born from buckets of money. Marnie’s eyes scanned down Olivia’s wardrobe. True: Olivia wasn’t city-sleek, the way Marnie was. She supposed Marnie had a whole host of fashion complaints.
“So. The old broad gave you the mansion,” Marnie rasped.
Olivia cleared her throat. “It’s good to see you again, Marnie. I didn’t get a chance to speak with you at the funeral.”
Marnie rolled her eyes up toward her boyfriend. At this, Olivia slid her hand out to introduce herself. “I’m Olivia. It’s nice to meet you.”
The boyfriend looked at her hand like it was a dead fish.
“This is my boyfriend, Zach,” Marnie grunted hurriedly. “He’s a developer.”
“So I’ve heard,” Olivia replied.
“Yeah. Well.” Marnie swallowed and waved her hand back toward the lawyer. “We’re pretty sure Grandma was delusional in her last few years. We have a lot of plans for that old house and we’re pretty sure it’s within our rights to take the place for ourselves.”
Olivia arched her brow. This felt like a pretty empty threat; after all, Aunt Marcia’s lawyer had just read her last will and testament aloud in front of more than twenty people.
Still, Olivia didn’t like the glint in Marnie’s eyes.
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