Ford gives me one more regretful look before following his brothers.
Ms. Rubio closes the door behind them and pulls in a deep sigh. She resumes her place at the table and gives me a look that is half pity, half business. “You are no doubt surprised by the contents of the will.”
“Very.” My voice comes out quieter than I intended.
“Over the course of our working relationship, Vivienne and I became friendly with each other. She was a pistol, with a kind heart.”
I nod—that’s the Vivienne I remember, too.
“While your parents wouldn’t allow you to have a relationship with her, she did pay attention to your life, where she could. She cared deeply for you.”
“I should’ve looked her up.” I shake my head. “She’s the one person who I thought might care, but after the rest of my family sort of abandoned me, I felt like I didn’t have any claim, I guess. Or maybe I always thought I’d do it later, that I had more time.”
I’m babbling, sharing too much personal shit with a stranger. I force my mouth closed.
Ms. Rubio gives me a sympathetic look. “Everything you’re saying is very, very common.”
“I just wish…” I blink back tears, angry with myself because I have no claim on grief. “I just wish she knew I cared, that she knew she was special to me.”
“She knew.” Ms. Rubio’s voice is gentle.
“All due respect,” I say, “but you can’t know that.”
She chuckles. “But I can. Vivienne hired a private investigator—just to check on you, not to spy. She wanted to make sure you were housed, healthy, all that. And in a photo taken by the PI to reassure her that you were well, Vivienne saw that.”
Ms. Rubio points to the ring on my right hand—the star sapphire.
“So she knew where I was, and she didn’t reach out to me, either?” I’m not sure what to do with this revelation.
“She was somewhat shy. Also, she didn’t want to overstep.” Ms. Rubio shrugs. “She had your best interests at heart, all the time. She knew your parents are—I apologize. This isn’t my place.”
I can only chuckle. My parents are shitheads. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Great-Aunt Vivienne clocked that, savvy as she was.
“At any rate.” Ms. Rubio smiles and shuffles in her manila folder for some papers. “I have here the keys and deed to the house on Oak Street, paperwork that shows you have access to Vivienne’s savings account, and the key and paperwork for her safe deposit box.”
“This is surreal.”
“I can only imagine.” She passes several papers and envelopes over to me. “You can move in immediately.”
One of the envelopes is heavy and bulky. I look inside and see several keys.
This has to be a dream.
I shake my head, trying to clear it.
Ms. Rubio folds her hands together. “There is one hiccup, however. Ford, your cousin, has been living rent-free in Vivienne’s house on Oak Street. He was informed that he would have to vacate in the event of Vivienne’s death.”
So that’s what Crane was talking about when he told Ford, “She’s going to kick you out of your home.” Except I’m not doing it—Vivienne already did.
What a mess.
“Maybe I’ll wait a few days before moving,” I say.
“He should already be on his way out.” Ms. Rubio nods. “I just wanted you to be aware that if there are things left behind, or a mess, it is likely his doing. Although he doesn’t seem quite as…agitated as his brothers.”
I always thought Ford was a little odd, but overall, Ms. Rubio is right. He’s always been the calm one of the three.
“This is probably more money than you’re used to,” she adds, nodding at the envelopes I hold. “Included in the paperwork are numbers for financial planners I recommend. If you invest wisely, it’s possible you won’t need to work.”
