8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Lizzie
“S o, Lizzie, how’s work going?”
It was Sunday night, and Ethan and I—along with our older sister, Mariah—were sitting in the corner booth at Amore Victoria, one of my favorite spots in Uptown. After picking her up from the airport earlier in the afternoon, Mariah had insisted I drop her off at a proper hotel rather than bunk together at my place—“ I’m thirty-two, Lizzie. Isn’t a slumber party a little ridiculous?” And then she asked if I’d thought about cutting my hair, as it would help me to look ‘my age’ .
So, yeah, that’s how that was going .
Not that any of this was a surprise. My sister was her mother’s daughter, no question—but the divide became even greater in our late teens, once she transferred from her college in Minneapolis to one thousands of miles away in Massachusetts.
We’d come off of a difficult year after losing Dad to a heart attack up at the cabin, and like the rest of us, Mariah just wanted an escape, a fresh start.
Four years later, she came back with a brand-new life, engaged to an investment banker/trust fund boy. Her upper-class world in Boston had been all about social events, fundraisers and living the carefully cultivated life of a socialite ever since.
Before all of that, though, she was just my big sister—and growing up, I had idolized her. Even back then, things seemed to come so easily for Mariah—beautiful, popular, well-liked. It was such a harsh contrast to how I saw myself, and hiding out in her shadow became my safe space.
But after things began to shift for our family, something fractured between us as well. I’d never understood why or how to return to the way things used to be.
And now, aside from making a couple of trips home during Mom’s cancer treatments, as well as attending the joint funeral a few months back, it had been over two years since the three of us had spent any time together on purpose.
But this homecoming couldn’t really be classified as a happy reunion, either. Our family attorney at Brooks & Morgan had finally assembled the wills and assets from both our mother’s and Grandma Cora’s estates—and as Mariah, Ethan and I were the sole inheritors for both, we were set to meet with Bill Hawkins to sort out all the details of their final wishes tomorrow.
“Work is… fine , I guess,” I said, shoveling another forkful of bolognese pasta into my mouth so I wouldn’t have to discuss it further. Mariah watched me chew, her nose wrinkling, before taking a dainty bite of her wedge salad—as if to provide further evidence that the only thing my sister and I shared in common was DNA.
I mean… who doesn’t like bolognese?
Dabbing at her mouth with her napkin, she continued. “Have you thought anymore about looking at Marcus & Associates in St. Paul? Brad would be happy to put in a good word for you—as I mentioned, their managing partner was his fraternity brother at Harvard. Last year, our families summered together at the Cape.”
I tried very hard not to roll my eyes at hearing about summers at the Cape or her husband being a Harvard alum for like the seven-thousandth time. I mean, I liked Brad well enough, but come on.
No, that’s a lie. My brother-in-law was an entitled douche canoe.
I smiled brightly at my sister. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’ve been debating shifting away from copywriting, anyway.”
Ethan, who’d been enjoying his lasagna without any sort of third degree, glanced over. “Really? You never mentioned that.”
I shot my brother a pointed look, trying my best not to glare. Apparently, our twin telepathy had malfunctioned. “Well, I’m… trying to diversify. Add more skills to my resume.”
I noticed Mariah studying my face, trying to sort out whether this was actually true or not. I kept my face neutral, grabbing my glass of Malbec and taking a huge swig before changing the subject. “Anyway, how’s Nora been doing? It’s been ages since we’ve seen any recent photos.”
Mariah offered one of her rare smiles—when she wasn’t focused on the next social soirée, we knew our sister lived and breathed for her five-year-old daughter, Nora.
Unfortunately, since Mariah rarely came back home to Minnesota these days, Ethan and I had only met Nora a handful of times. With strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes just like her mother—and a spunky attitude to match—Nora was already a force to be reckoned with.
“She’s wonderful, actually, and so excited about her first sleep-away camp this summer.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, at five? Isn’t that a little young?”
“Not at all. We could have started sending her last year, but she wasn’t quite ready yet. And it’s only two nights.”
“Sounds fun,” Ethan said, grabbing another breadstick from the basket between us as Mariah rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, I’m hoping to also get her in for some tennis lessons, too. Brad thinks she’s already got quite a swing.”
I knew she had to be delighted, envisioning another tennis protégé. “I bet that’ll be fun for her. Hopefully, she’ll have lots of time to just run around and get her hands dirty this summer, too?”
“Yes, we’ll see.” Taking another bite of salad, she set down her fork, clearly ready to move on. “So, for tomorrow’s meeting with Bill, I think we need to prepare ourselves.”
Now it was my turn to look curious. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Mom’s in-home hospice care and cancer treatments were expensive. Combined with the fact that she’d been unable to work at the clinic for the last year due to her illness, that likely ate up much of what was left behind from Dad’s pension from the state.” Mariah took a sip of her own chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc before continuing. “And as for Grandma Cora, well… she and Grandpa lived comfortably off his small medical practice, but I wouldn’t expect they had a tremendous amount left in their accounts. Plus, didn’t Mom mention the assisted living facility in Dearing Creek was kind of pricey?”
Our grandparents had lived in a nearby suburb to our family in the Twin Cities for most of our lives, only going up north to their Dearing Creek cabin in the summers. But after the three of us had grown—and both Dad and Grandpa had passed away—Grandma Cora decided to move up to Dearing Creek full-time, so she could be closer to her friends from the old days.
Ethan shrugged. “So? We’ve already put Mom’s house on the market and had that estate crew donate or sell most of what we didn’t want. As long as we can pay off the rest of the bills from both funerals and the hospital from the proceeds, we can split whatever is left. I never expected some big inheritance, anyway.”
Mariah sniffed, setting down her fork. “That’s not what I’m trying to imply here, Ethan… but it would be nice to know they left us something . All I’m saying is, I don’t want either of you to get your hopes up.”
Annoyed at my sister’s implication that somehow Ethan and I were the ones desperate for more money, I held back my words with another sip of wine. I didn’t have the energy to fight. “Agreed,” I said, glancing across the table towards my brother.
No matter how tomorrow’s meeting played out, the only thing I cared about was not inheriting even more heartache and complications than I already had.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m here.” I bustled into the conference room at the offices of Brooks & Morgan the next morning, ten minutes late and frazzled after being delayed by Constance on my way out. Apparently, she’d found it necessary that I print all the ad copy files from the past two years before I left the office.
Mariah, of course, looked annoyed at my tardiness. Ethan gave me a small smile before pulling out the empty chair to his right, and I took a seat to face our attorney.
Bill Hawkins had worked for both our grandparents and our parents as the family attorney for decades and was due to retire himself soon. For now, he sat across from us, shuffling through paperwork and looking about as excited as we felt to be stuck in that room on a Monday morning.
Even still, he offered a smile as he peered at me over the tortoise-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. “Glad you could make it, Elizabeth. Shall we get started?
We nodded, waiting expectantly as Bill picked up one of the documents that lay in front of him.
“Alright, we’ll start with your parents’ estate. I will read directly from your mother’s will, which includes assets from both parents.”
“‘I, Cynthia Blake, residing at 2112 Wayzata Way, Minnetonka, Minnesota, declare this to be my last Will and Testament, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils previously made.’”
Bill had just flipped the page to continue when my phone started ringing from my purse. Shit, I forgot to turn off the ringer. Pulling it out, I saw Constance’s name flashing across the screen.
I glanced up, all eyes on me. “I’m really sorry, but it’s my boss. I have to take this.” I scooted my chair back and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me as I answered the call.
“Hello?” I spoke in hushed tones, trying to find a quiet spot where I wouldn’t be disrupted. Thankfully, I spotted a kitchenette just around the corner.
“Elizabeth? Where are you? I just stopped by your office.”
I worked to contain the sigh that was fighting its way towards the surface. “Sorry, I had that meeting with our family attorney for the estate this morning. What did you need? If it’s not urgent, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Clearly, Constance didn’t feel the need to mask her own frustration as she heaved her own heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “This is all very inconvenient, but it’ll have to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but the firm has made the difficult decision to terminate your position.”
I felt the blood drain from my face as I stood there, unmoving.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
“Elizabeth, are you still there?”
Finally, I found my voice. “Um… what? I don’t understand…”
“It means you no longer have a job here, my dear.” Constance’s voice was slow, patronizing. “The managing partners have deemed it necessary to downsize each department, based on the firm’s performance in Q1 and Q2. Yours and one other position in marketing were determined the least crucial, so… there you have it.”
My brain was racing, trying to make sense of all of it. So that’s why she wanted those files before I left.
“Anyway, the decision has been made, effective immediately—with a generous, one month severance package. And, as you are not currently here at the office, I’ll have someone from security box up your personal effects. You may grab them when you turn in your badge, which you’re required to do by noon tomorrow. Someone from human relations will also be in touch regarding transitional benefits.” She paused. “Alright, I think that covers it. Do you have any questions?”
‘Questions’? I still couldn’t form one single coherent thought, other than the ‘holy shit’ screaming on repeat in my head. “I… no.”
“Well, then, Woodruff & Shay would like to thank you for your three years of service. Best of luck to you.” I heard a click as the other line disconnected, and I lowered the phone from my ear.
What the hell am I going to do now?
As if in a trance, I returned to the conference room, sinking back into my seat.
Ethan could sense by the expression on my face that something was wrong, but I shook my head. I couldn’t deal with this right now. “Sorry for the interruption, please continue.”
Bill nodded. “We continued on through the portion detailing funeral expenses and debt repayment already. I was just explaining to Mariah and Ethan that there was already an amount your parents had set aside for this purpose which more than covers everything, as neither parent had yet to retire or required skilled nursing care long term.
“Next, continuing on to the money, personal property and real estate portions…”
We sat listening as Bill detailed what remained of our parents’ designated personal items, savings, investments, and other assets. Their home had been paid off for a few years, which would mean full profit after the sale, divided evenly. Combined with their savings and current investments, each of us was to receive approximately $1.3 million, depending on the final sale price of the house at closing.
All three of us sat in stunned silence, not having any idea that we would be hearing figures anywhere close to that.
Then he set the document aside, moving on to our grandmother’s will. As he read through the list of investments, assets and real estate proceeds from the sale of our grandparents’ home a few years prior, our jaws were quite literally on the floor.
Apparently, our grandparents had amassed a small fortune during their marriage—whether it be from our grandfather’s medical practice or from crazy investments, we’d never know.
But all things considered, we were each to receive an additional $8.1 million.
Holy shit, indeed.
“How is this possible?” Mariah exclaimed.
Bill shrugged. “Your grandparents did very well for themselves… and it seems that for many years—through last year, actually—there were also automatic annual transfers of one hundred thousand dollars made to a separate investment account. The source of that transfer is confidential, with specific instructions not to be disclosed, however.”
Ethan just sat, shaking his head. “This is just so…”
“... unreal?” I murmured, finishing my brother’s sentence.
“Just wait, we aren’t quite done yet,” Bill said, handing us each an envelope. “These were written by your grandmother when she finalized her will a few years back. She asked that these be given to the three of you after she passed. I believe they are regarding a few personal effects.”
Taking our envelopes, we each sat reading in silence.
After a moment, Mariah slammed her letter down onto the table. “What do your letters say?”
Ethan cleared his throat. “She’s giving me grandpa’s gold bar and his antique gun collection.” I knew from the tears welling in his eyes that the gift meant a great deal to my brother. He’d been close with our grandfather and loved history, and had spent years admiring the guns he’d never been allowed to handle as a boy. “How about you?”
Mariah shrugged. “Grandmother’s china and her jewelry. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with all of that.” She leaned forward to look past Ethan as I sat in silent shock.
“Is something wrong?”
I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “She’s giving me the cabin in Dearing Creek and her book collection.” My voice was raspy, barely audible.
Bill nodded. “And I’ll have the deed transferred over to you by tomorrow, along with the authentication documents for the other items.”
“The cabin? I thought that was sold off years ago?” Ethan said, the shock evident on his face.
“No, it wasn’t. After your father died, your mother wanted to sell it… but technically, it still belonged to your grandparents. And Cora had explicitly stated that the cabin would never be sold, only passed down within the family, unless there were no remaining descendants to take on the property. In which case, it would then be donated to the community of Dearing Creek as a rental property for new families to enjoy.”
“This is bullshit.” Mariah whipped her head over again to look at the two of us. “How did we not know the cabin was still ours? And you,” she said, her gaze fixed on me, “Why did Grandma Cora choose you to inherit it?”
“I don’t know any more than you do, Mariah. This is total news to me.” Inside, my head was still buzzing— the cabin?
But Mariah was still shaking her head. “No, this is… not right.” She looked at Bill. “Can you do anything about this?”
Coming out of my fog, I turned to look at my sister. “What exactly are you upset about here? Grandma Cora and Mom just changed our entire lives with these gifts. Even if you don’t want or need the money, you should still be grateful. And you know if you ever come to Minnesota to spend actual time here, you can use the cabin, too. We’ll work something out.”
“I don’t need anything from you.” She stood up, looking across at Bill. “Is there anything I have to sign?” He nodded, sliding a few documents across the table towards her. She hastily scrawled her signature, then turned to grab her purse from the seat next to her.
“Where are you going?”
“To the airport. I’m done here.”
Ethan looked confused. “But your flight isn’t until tonight. Aren’t we going to have lunch, talk through everything like we’d planned?”
Mariah shook her head. “I can’t do this right now. I need to get home. I’ll just switch to an earlier flight.” She turned and walked towards the door.
“Mariah!” I called out to her as I stood up from my seat. She froze mid-stride but didn’t turn around. “This is ridiculous. Don’t leave like this. Please, stay.”
“I… can’t,” she said, and I heard a tremor in her voice. Then she walked out the door, closing it behind her.
“What the hell was that all about?” Ethan said as I sat back down, still reeling from, well, everything.
“I have no idea,” I murmured.
But if Mariah was feeling even a fraction as shell-shocked as I was in that moment, I couldn’t blame her for walking out.
Because my life, as I’d known it, had somehow been completely upended in a matter of months.
First, I lost my grandmother—the person I trusted more than anyone.
Then, my mother.
Followed by… my boyfriend.
And… my job , as of five minutes ago.
And now I was supposed to be some millionaire saddled with a risen-from-the-ashes lakefront property, tied to nearly every single one of my most precious memories?
The only thing I knew for certain was this: I needed a very, very strong drink.