My brows furrow. What a strange demand.
“She also asked that a celebration be made in her honor, with all her close friends and family present.”
“That’s done already,” Keira says.
“I wasn’t there,” I respond.
Keira ignores the comment, and Mr. Nelson doesn’t seem to want to get involved.
Another wave of grief hits me, and I squeeze my thighs tight enough to leave nail welts in order to keep my cool. She wanted one last party, and I didn’t even attend.
You’re fine.
“Then, for the estate.” He scrolls further. “I will read what she said, so there’s no misinterpretation. ‘To Keira, I leave my books, so she rediscovers the magic of this world. And to Cassie, I leave my scrapbooking material, so she can start seeing life from a new perspective.’”
Keira turns to me with a strange look, but I’m just as lost. I don’t even know what the second part of that statement means. I’ve never scrapbooked a day in my life. At least Keira was always a big reader.
“‘As for the house, I want it to be sold, as well as all the items in it, unless my granddaughters decide on objects they would like to keep. What isn’t sold should be donated. Each girl shall receive ten thousand dollars from the sale. The rest shall be donated to the charity of their choice.’”
My sister’s jaw drops. She didn’t expect this any more than I did. And yet, once again, I should’ve anticipated it. Ruth was never one for material things. Everything in the house was bought in antique stores or garage sales. The kitchen chairs have always been mismatched, two contemporary and two in a Victorian style. The house had been passed down from generation to generation—otherwise she never would’ve been able to buy an oceanside property—but I’m not surprised she didn’t want to give it to us. She knew she could change lives with that kind of money, and being generous, both with her time and money, is something that’s so Ruth, I have to blink away the emotion clouding my eyes.
“‘Moreover, all the steps must be done together, and all final decisions require agreement from both Cassie and Keira.’”
“When did she write this?” Keira asks, her voice poignant. “Twenty years ago?”
Mr. Nelson looks to be hating his life so much right now. “She had it edited a few months before her death.”
“Ridiculous,” she mumbles. “This will take an eternity.”
“I have time,” I say. “I can do most of it.”
“Were you not listening? We need to both be there, all the time.” She turns to the lawyer. “Is there any way we can do only parts of her requests? What happens if we don’t?”
“Then the court will elect someone to do it.”
“No way,” I say. “Ruth wanted us to do this, so we’ll do it.”
“Oh, now you want to be sentimental?”
“Stop it,” I grit out. “We’re not doing this right now.” I can’t believe she wants to air out our dirty laundry like this. “And this is not about me. It’s about her.”
Her jaw ticks, then she turns to Mr. Nelson. “Fine. We’ll do it, if we have no choice.”
I exhale as Mr. Nelson says, “Thank you. And I’ll be there to help you along the way, or if you have any questions.”
“Is that all?” Before he’s even answered, she’s on her feet.
“Sure,” he says, allowing her to leave without another word.
“Thank you,” I tell Mr. Nelson before running after my sister.
“Hey, wait up!” I shout once I’m out the door, seeing her silhouette almost to her truck.
“There’s nothing else to discuss.” She pulls her keys out of her purse. “We’ll deal with this shit, and that’s that.”
I feel like she’s just slapped me, and after the whiplash this entire morning has been, I’ve had enough. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” She takes a step toward me. “Are you seriously asking me that?”
