Chapter 61
Tilda
The law firm is small, just a waiting room area with a woman behind a reception desk and one office.
The door to the office is open, and my cousin Ralph is standing in the threshold, sneering like the rat he is.
I ignore him, making sure our shoulders don’t touch as I step into the office.
Everyone else is still standing, whispering to each other, so I circle around them and claim one of the four visitor chairs in the room.
A man about my dad’s age sits on the other side of the desk.
He nods at me. “You must be Matty.”
“I am. Nice to meet you.” I give him a tight smile.
The familiarity of hearing the name my uncle called me helps to settle some of my nerves.
I smooth my skirt over my lap. Being in a room with this much family is a nightmare. But knowing Ethan is waiting in the hall—that he’ll fly me out of here as soon as I ask him to—makes this all slightly more tolerable.
Ralph sniffs, like he’s fighting a cold, and leans against the wall nearest me.
Gross.
Mother takes the chair next to mine, then Ralph’s parents—Aunt Gunnie, who doesn’t like my yellow dress, and her ever-silent husband—take the remaining chairs. Everyone else stands behind us.
I keep my attention forward.
I just have to sit through a few minutes of the lawyer talking.
Just have to sit through them finding out about the house.
Then I’m out of here.
The lawyer clears his throat. “Thank you all for coming in today. I’m Richard—”
“Where’s your son?” Ralph scoffs, like he’s catching the lawyer in a sneaky lie.
Richard keeps his expression blank as he turns to address Ralph. “I’m the son. My father was also named Richard.”
I bite down on the urge to smile. Eat it, Ralph.
The lawyer returns his attention to the rest of the room.
“Jack requested that we have a formal reading of his will, and as all required parties are present, I shall begin.” He waits a beat, letting his eyes linger on my relatives, then looks down at an envelope on his desk.
“This is a letter written by Jack.” Richard picks up a golden letter opener and slices the sealed envelope open.
Then he unfolds the paper and begins to read. “Hello, dear family. Thank you for gathering here today, in the event of my death.”
I press my lips together because this would be an inappropriate time to laugh. But really, Uncle Jack?
Not that the dramatics of a letter should surprise me.
“Though I hate most of you—”
I can’t prevent my snort. Because really, Uncle Jack? But I lift a hand to my mouth as I half-heartedly turn it into a cough. “Sorry. Continue.”
Richard nods. “I feel it is important for you all to be here for this, so there are no misunderstandings. And I assure you, Richard has approved all my requests. There is nothing illegal, nothing that can be done by any of you to undo what I’ve set in motion.
So, please, sit there and take it.” The lawyer uses zero inflection, and it makes the whole thing that much more absurd.
And satisfying. “To my sister and neices, I leave you nothing.”
My mother and aunt gasp.
I suppress another laugh.
“To my brothers, I leave you nothing.” The lawyer continues. “To any others who have gathered, if your name is not Matilda Iris Wright, I leave you nothing.”
Satisfaction mingles with the nerves in my stomach.
This is the whole point. I knew this was coming. But with every pair of eyes on me, I internally brace myself.
“To my Matty, I leave you my house in the mountains. By now, you should already be residing there and familiar with the property. And I hope you’ve been drinking your coffee on the deck.
” I swallow, wishing I could tell them that I do.
That I love it. “To my Matty, I also leave you everything on the property. My truck. My belongings. And the check from my savings for twenty thousand dollars, to get you going.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Mother hisses at me, as though I’m the one reading the letter.
I keep my eyes forward.
“Twenty fucking thousand?” Ralph pushes off the wall and steps toward the desk. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The rest of the group erupts with sharp, angry words.
Richard pulls something small from his desk drawer, lifts it to his mouth, then presses the metal whistle between his lips and blows. Loudly.
Everyone shuts up.
I press my fingertips against my lips, physically suppressing my smile.
This is a nightmare but also satisfying.
Richard lowers the whistle and goes back to reading. “I’ve provided my lawyer with a whistle. Please don’t embarrass me in death and make him use it.”
I press my fingers harder against my lips.
“Before my final bestowment, I want to tell you all something. You didn’t break me.
Your snide comments. Your attitudes. Your remarks and put-downs.
You never broke me. I didn’t stay away because I was afraid of you.
I stayed away because I found a better family to surround myself with.
And if you weren’t such an unpleasant group of assholes, I’d hope for you to make similar connections.
But you are, so I won’t.” The lawyer pauses, turning just the slightest bit so he’s facing me directly.
“Except you, Matty. You didn’t let them break you either.
And with time, you’ll make your own family.
Through friends or children, I care not how, just that you do.
And to help you in your venture, my glorious little flower, I have one more thing for you. ”
My fingers tremble against my lips.
I will.
I will find my own family.
I’ll make my own happy future.
In Colorado.
I swallow. Wishing I’d spent more time with Uncle Jack in the past years.
The corners of Richard’s eyes crinkle. “Matty, I leave to you my investment account.”
My eyebrows lift.
There’s more? Beyond the twenty thousand?
“It’s already in your name. And will be dispersed to you, by my accountants, over four years. Each year, on your birthday.”
My heart thuds behind my ribs.
Today is Friday. My birthday is next Tuesday.
The room is silent. And from the edge of my vision, I can see everyone leaning forward. Waiting for the detail.
The how much.
“There is a catch, my dear. One I will insist on. And before you wonder your precious purple head about it, know that if you don’t comply, the money will go to them.
” Richard looks up from the letter and slowly sweeps his gaze across the room.
And I just know Uncle Jack wrote something telling Richard to do that.
He looks back down to the letter. “Before I tell you the what, ask me how much.”
The lawyer lifts his eyes to mine.
I lower my fingers to my chin. “How much?”
He holds eye contact. “Two million.”
I blink.
I swallow.
I choke on my inhale.
“Dollars?”
The edge of Richard’s mouth pulls up into a smirk. And that look… That look tells me he wasn’t just Uncle Jack’s lawyer. He was his friend. His family.
“Dollars.” He confirms with a nod. Then he lowers his eyes to the paper again. “Now ask me what you have to do.”
I can feel the outrage pouring off my family members.
Can feel the tension ready to burst through the room.
Two. Million. Dollars.
How on earth did Uncle Jack have two million dollars?
I slide my hand lower, until it’s covering my throat. “What do I have to do?”
Uncle Jack loved me.
He’s leaving all of this to me.
He won’t make me do something awful.
He just won’t.
Richard’s gaze slides over the paper as he reads. “You must be married. By your thirtieth birthday.”
My thirtieth birthday.
The one on Tuesday.
“What?” The question comes out quieter than a whisper.
I have five days.
If I can count today. And my birthday. I have five days to find someone to marry me.
I slump in my seat, squishing my little backpack between my body and the chair.
My mother stands.
Ralph steps closer to the desk.
Shouts fill the room.
But instead of listening, I close my eyes and focus on breathing.
Two million dollars.
I part my lips and pull in deeper breaths.
Two million, and if I don’t get married in the next five days, it goes to these people.
These horrible, selfish, greedy people.
He knew.
Uncle Jack knew.
If the money were to go anywhere else—charity, strangers—I wouldn’t stand in the way. I wouldn’t force some random person to marry me. I’d let the money go. I’d let it go literally anywhere. Except to these people.
These underserving, hateful people.
A sound gets trapped in my throat, and I don’t know if it’s humor or horror.
I shake my head.
Well played, Uncle Jack.
The movement dislodges something from my hair, and I open my eyes just in time to catch the sunglasses as they slide off my head.
I gently grip the shiny metal frame.
And I stare at myself in the reflection of the lenses.
Ethan’s lenses.
I pull in another ragged breath.
Uncle Jack gave me his house.
He befriended the park ranger next door.
He told Ethan about Matty.
He knew Ethan would come by. That we’d meet.
Uncle Jack hired Ethan to fly me to this meeting.
Hired him to drive me to this meeting.
This meeting, where I’d hear his demand of marriage.
Uncle Jack knew Ethan would be here with me.
Arranged it that way.
The sound crawls out of my chest again.
Uncle Jack knew exactly how this would go down.
He set it up perfectly.
Set me up perfectly.
I blink at my reflection.
Well played, Maestro.
Except… It only works if Ethan agrees.
And why would Ethan agree?
Richard blows his whistle.
Silence falls.
And everyone turns to me.
I sit up straight.
I lift my gaze.
I think about the way Ethan kisses me.
I think about the way he felt on top of me.
I think about the way he holds my hand.
And I decide to bet it all on Ethan Grant.
Clearing my throat, I stand. “Marriage won’t be an issue. My fiancé is sitting in the hall.”
The shouting starts again.