I’m about to ring the bell again, when the large door finally cracks open.
My heart quickens, until I see the look of disgust on the face of my great-grandmother’s long-time housekeeper.
“Martha…” I smile weakly, trying to hide my uneasiness. “Uh, is my great-grandmother available? I really need to talk to her.” I try to peek over her shoulder.
The stern woman shakes her head.“I’m afraid not,” she says crisply.
The disappointment in her shrewd eyes tells me she’s revulsed by what I did. She sees what a letdown I am.“Oh, please, Martha. I just need five minutes to apologize. I really messed up, but I need her to know that I never meant to hurt her.”
“Please? Just two minutes? I’ll be in and out,” I beg, hands clasped in front of my chest.
Martha’s face of indifference doesn’t crack. Man, she’s a tough cookie.
“I’m sorry, but Mrs. Lannister is indisposed. She’s asked to not see any visitors at this time.” The housekeeper’s tone holds no room for argument, and she’s almost as scary as the lady of the house. “However, she instructed me to give you this.”
Martha stiffly reaches out, and I see the envelope from earlier—the one containing my trust fund check. She coldly presses it into my hand.
My jaw drops as I stare down at the crinkled envelope. “She...she just wants me to take the money and leave?”
Martha nods. “Mrs. Lannister said that the money was meant for your future. She hopes you use it to find the integrity you failed to show earlier today. Good evening, Ms. Julissa.”
Before I can choke out a response, Martha is firmly closing the door in my face, finalizing my dismissal.
Ouch.
I want Great-Grandma to come out here. I want her to yell at me. I want her to scream. To show that she cares. She’s the only one on this side of the family who has ever cared about me. Instead, all she’s offering at the moment is silence. Stinging, disappointed silence.
“Just anotherLfor Jules today,” I mumble to myself, standing alone on the steps of Great-Grandma’s mansion and clinging to the worthless check.
This stupid, stupid money.
It was once meant to be my key toward independence. Now it just feels…dirty.
My great-grandmother would rather hand over buttloads of money than see my deceitful face. My fingers fumble to open the envelope and pull out the check. My mouth goes dry when I see the amount. That’s an awful lot of zeros.
Talk about an expensive payoff to get rid of your scandalous great-grand-brat.My shoulders slump.
I’m finally rich. And now I’m totally alone.
I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this movie. Spoiler alert—it doesn’t end happily ever after.
But I think I’m finally starting to understand it. This is why Great Grandma drew up that marriage clause in our trust funds. She knew this would happen. She knew that money would lead to loneliness…unless we each had someone to share that money with.
I collapse onto the cold stone steps, pulling my knees up to my chest as I stare at the tainted slip of paper in my hand. I feel physically ill. And each time my eyes scan over the amount on this check, I only feel worse.
With an angry huff, I crumple the check into a tight ball and throw it as hard as I can into the wind. I watch as it tumbles down the steps and comes to an unsatisfying halt in a flowerbed.
Shoot. I don’t want to litter on Great-Grandma’s property. She pays Humphrey and his helpers good money to keep her yard pristine.
I pull myself up slowly, my legs and feet aching miserably from walking for hours. I retrieve the check from the garden, smooth it out, and then reluctantly pocket it. I’ll figure out what to do with this evil piece of paper later.
For now, I need to figure out the next destination on my sad walkabout.
I can't go home—it's Lincoln's house, and I need to process the ‘love’ bombshell he just unexpectedly dropped on me a few hours ago. I don’t think he’s thinking clearly. I don’t think he actually loves a sad, pathetic monster like me. I think he pities me, but I don’t even deserve his pity.
I can’t head back to my old apartment. Tammy’s got a new roommate who’s already moved into my tiny shoebox bedroom.
I can't go to my mom's house. There’d be too many questions to answer. After all, I betrayed her, too. I lied to her. She’s probably as disappointed as Great-Grandma is.
