8. Renee
Renee
The lawyer’s conference room smelled like furniture polish and defeat. Renee took a seat near one end of the long table, while the rest of her family filed in around her.
“You don’t have to look quite so severe,” her mother said from the next chair.
“I’m appropriately grieving your sister,” she said, not caring whether the dig stung.
It didn’t.
“You should be grateful to be here, at least.” Her mother set her bag beside her in the large chair, her long red hair shining and perfectly blown out for the occasion. “She will have most certainly left a little something for you. She did love you very much.”
“I know.”
She couldn’t manage more than that. Renee was in no mood to spar with her mother that Friday morning. It had been a long week that was punctuated by a will reading. So she didn’t care much if her mother thought she looked too severe.
But her week hadn’t been all bad. Besides going through her aunt’s house and the tedious surveillance and managing her business remotely, she’d had a surprisingly enjoyable time yesterday.
At the dog park, of all places. The enjoyable aspect, of course, had more to do with her company than with the dogs or even the park on that hot but gorgeously sunny day.
Despite her distaste for custody cases and indifference to dogs in general, she would never turn down the request for more work. Not that it was for the money, although she did need it. Business had been slow lately.
She would never turn it down because of those big hazel eyes pleading with her for help.
Apparently, she was a sucker for a woman in need.
Not that she was in the market to take on anyone’s needs.
She’d been on the business end of too many separation jobs to even think about jumping into a relationship with anyone.
Not when they all seemed doomed from the start.
The only reason her parents’ marriage had held up was that they didn’t much like each other and carried on separately as such.
So, no. There wasn’t anything in it for her to help Jessica besides a paycheck.
Still, she’d enjoyed sitting there with her while her dog played around in that cage.
Despite the heat, she found herself not wanting to leave that park bench or the beautiful brunette who smelled like sunshine and sandalwood.
Her two aunts and her many cousins were all talking loudly amongst themselves, as if this were just some normal family gathering where chips and dips and veggie trays would be spread across the table at any moment.
They didn’t need to be there, of course.
The lawyer had assured them that attendance was not necessary for the reading, and that he would be in touch with any beneficiaries.
But most of them came anyway, even the ones from out of town.
They smelled blood in the water. Knowing that while Aunt Ellen never made a show of her money, she had squirreled it away in various accounts.
All funds she’d acquired over the years as an attorney herself.
In fact, the young man in the immaculately tailored dark blue suit who sat at the head of the table now had been one of her aunt’s colleagues before she retired early, and he looked just as severe as Renee apparently did.
“I’d like to begin by saying how sorry I am for your loss,” he said, meeting each one of them with his gaze. “Ellen was a wonderful woman, and I’m lucky to have had the opportunity to work with her.”
Everyone nodded solemnly around the table, all making a show of their performative grief.
He lifted a small stack of papers and put on reading glasses. “I’ll now read the will, and if anyone has any questions, I’ll take those once I’m done.”
The aunt across from Renee sat up a little straighter in her chair. They were all silent and giving the lawyer their full attention now.
The document opened with a bunch of lawyer-speak that Renee could barely digest. She doubted any of her cousins knew what was being said either.
Then he got to the part they’d all shown up for.
Aunt Ellen left three of her investment accounts, one to each of her sisters, with instructions that the money was to be divided equally between Renee’s aunts and their children.
The cousins’ faces contained a mix of excited greed and fear, as no one knew the amounts held in each of those accounts yet.
Could be barely enough to divide up. Could be enough to pay off their houses. Who knew at this point.
Her mother at least had the decency to look somber at the news. It wasn’t as if she needed the money, but if Renee had to guess, there was probably an element of entitlement at play.
Then, he got to the part about the house and splitting it between them all.
Except that’s not what was actually in the will.
The lawyer read deliberately in his calm, monotone voice that the house should go to Renee.
No other names were mentioned.
“Wait, that can’t be right,” one cousin said from across the table.
“There must be more,” one of her aunts said.
“I’m sorry,” the lawyer said. “I need to finish reading the whole document and address your questions at the end.”
He continued, although there were now hushed murmurs as he read.
Renee couldn’t make out any of the conversations, but if she thought about it, she could guess what the gist of the talk was about.
She was barely aware of the voices around her, though, as the lawyer’s voice ran on a loop in her head.
She was inheriting the house.
Alone.
Just her.
The whole house.
Not to mention the rest of her estate, which apparently amounted to her checking and savings accounts plus a money market account at the bank.
It just didn’t make any sense. Why would Aunt Ellen do that?
She didn’t think that was a question the lawyer could answer. In fact, as he finished reading the will and opened to questions, he had to admit exactly that as her aunts and cousins immediately pounced, seeking an explanation.
Oakview home prices weren’t like Baton Rouge prices, but the house and property still had to be worth close to half a million. She knew this because her mother the realtor had mentioned it at least twice since Aunt Ellen died, and multiple times while she’d been alive.
It really was a beautiful house by any standard. And the property was rather large and was dotted with live oaks, pecan trees, crepe myrtles, and gorgeous azaleas and hydrangeas, among other things. Plus, the house had been fully renovated over the last several years, adding to the market value.
And somehow it was hers now.
“Renee.”
She shook her head and looked around to find a collection of glares and stunned faces. It was her mother’s voice, however, that had brought her back to reality.
“What?” She turned to face her mother, who was now the one with the severe expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“I said,” her mother repeated, with her lips pressing tightly in the pause, “do you have any questions for the lawyer?”
Questions? She had a million of them. None of which she was sure he could answer.
She waited for a break in the barrage of questions, then raised her voice to ask, “Does all of this mean the estate will go into probate?”
She didn’t know much of anything about estates and wills or any of this stuff, but Ben had briefed her on the potential for probate and how that could jam things up. Most notably, potentially jamming up her exit from Oakview.
“Not necessarily,” he said. “If she named you all as the beneficiaries on these accounts, that will simplify things. With that and with you as the sole inheritor of the house, I think we can get away with a fairly simple succession.”
There it was again. Sole inheritor of the house. It still didn’t make any more sense hearing it a second time.
A hand squeezed the top of hers on the table, and it took her a moment to recognize that the foreign gesture was coming from her mother.
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you sell the place. It’ll be easy. We can clean it out and put it on the market in a month.”
The last thing Renee wanted to do was discuss the details of selling her aunt’s house. She especially didn’t want to talk to her mother about all of that. Not here. Not now.
The lawyer was talking about the things he would need. Statements from the investment accounts showing the value at the time of her death. Documentation on the beneficiaries for each account. Probably more stuff Renee couldn’t process.
She pulled her hand away and pushed back her heavy chair to stand. “I need to get to the house.”
“Are you sure? We could go to lunch and discuss more details. I don’t have to drive to Mandeville just yet.”
“No.” It came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but the sentiment was accurate. “I need to go take care of Bartholomew.”
That did it. Like her, Renee’s mother wanted nothing to do with anything that wasn’t bipedal, or that had fur, feathers, or scales.
“Well, I’ll be in touch. We can discuss things later. But don’t wait too long. We’ll want to take a good look and see if we want to make any improvements before putting it on the market.”
Renee couldn’t help noticing the overuse of “we.”
As much as she hated to admit it, though, she was going to need her mother’s help. She would need a lot of help. But if she was going to have lunch with anyone right now, it wouldn’t be with her.
Renee looked around the room and realized none of them were paying attention to her anymore, so she grabbed her bag and made a swift exit from the room, pausing only briefly to give the lawyer her number to call her if he needed anything from her.
Then, once she was out in the reception area, she sent a desperate text to her best friend, asking him to meet her somewhere for lunch. Anywhere that wasn’t the house and didn’t have her mother as part of the deal.