I held up my glass in salute. “I’m telling you, it’s a mistake. She didn’t leave the farm to me.”
“But what if she did?” Jaime shot me an impatient stare before dialing the number listed on the papers. I returned to the sofa, half listening while she explained our situation to someone on the other end of the line. A moment later, she handed me the phone, saying, “They’re putting us through to the attorney now.”
I switched over to speaker as the line rang. Then, “Hello, this is Frank Silber.”
“Um, yeah, hi, this is Shay Zucconi,” I said.
“Miss Zucconi! We’ve been trying to track you down for a month,” he said, a laugh ringing through his words.
I turned over the envelope. No need to explain that he had my old-old address, the apartment where I’d lived before moving in with the ex. “Yeah, I recently moved.”
“Well, now that I have you,” he said, still with that jovial laugh, “I’ll explain the terms of your inheritance.”
“About that,” I said, ignoring Jaime’s arched brows. “I don’t think you have the right person. Lollie’s son, maybe, or her grandkids? I really don’t think I was supposed to get anything.”
“Your step-grandmother was very clear about her wishes,” he said. “She reviewed her will with me about three months prior to her passing. This is what she wanted.”
“Okay, but—” I didn’t know what else to say and Frank took my silence as an opening.
“Your step-grandmother’s estate names you, Shaylene Marie Zucconi, as the sole recipient of the residence, farm buildings, and agricultural land known as Thomas Twins Farm, commonly referred to as Twin Tulip, located at eighty-one Old Windmill Hill Road in Friendship, Rhode Island.”
“That’s insane,” I said. “I—I don’t understand why she’d leave the farm tome.”
“I can’t speak for Lollie but I do remember her saying on several occasions that you’d know what to do with the farm,” Frank said.
I glanced down at my sleep shorts and tank top. “Frank, I don’t even know what to do with myself. Acres of land seems like a lot of responsibility for me.”
He responded with a deep chuckle, as if I wasn’t being completely honest, and pressed on. “There are two important requirements that I have to explain. First, you must live at the property at least fifty percent of the year and—”
“But I work in Boston,” I interrupted. “I can’t commute from Rhode Island.”
“If you’re not willing or able to meet both requirements established by the trust, the property will be turned over to the town of Friendship,” he said.
Why would Lollie do this to me?
I met Jaime’s gaze, giving her a slow shake of my head.
She held up her hands, shrugged. “You could always return it to the Native Americans it was mostly likely stolen from.”
I muted the call while Frank went on about the town taking the farm. “She did that about forty years ago. Gave back a ton of land.” I paused as Frank shouted to his assistant. “It pissed off her family in a big way but she didn’t care.”
“I like this lady,” Jaime replied.
“And the second requirement,” Frank continued, “was most important to Lollie. Her family has lived and worked that land since the early 1700s and she wanted that family presence to continue. In order for you to fully inherit the property at the end of the provisional year, you must submit proof of marriage or domestic partnership to the estate within that year.”
“So,” I started, pausing for a gulp of my shameful sangria, “I have to move to Rhode Island, live on a farm,andget married? And I’m the only one who can do this? Not my stepdad’s kids or literally anyone else?”
It sounded like Frank was shuffling papers on his end. “That was Lollie’s choice. However, you’re welcome to cede the property to the town. It would end a three-hundred-year-old tradition of a single family working that farm, though I understand not every tradition was meant to continue for perpetuity. I’m sure Lollie understood that too.”
“I wasn’t even her real family.” It sounded like a pathetic excuse coming out of my mouth. It felt that way too. Grandma Lollie had been as real as it got for me. I’d never been close with my mother or stepdad. If I’d been anything for them, it was a logistical nightmare. I’d only met his kids a few times but they all had ten or fifteen years on me, and their lives were in different places. “She was mystep-grandmother.”
“As I mentioned, Lollie believed you’d know what was best for the farm.” Frank made a loud nasally, gargly sound. “If I understand correctly, Lollie’s other grandchildren have expressed limited interest in even visiting the family land.”
“I mean, we could check in with them again, right? Maybe they’ve changed their minds.”
Frank laughed. “I’m afraid estates don’t work that way, Miss Zucconi.”
“Okay. Since I’m not getting married and I can’t move to Rhode Island, I guess I can’t accept this inheritance,” I said, and those words stung. I hadn’t been to the farm in years, since shortly before Grandma Lollie moved down to Florida and leased it out to a young couple to manage the tulip growing, but it existed in my mind as a place that would always be there for me.
