Can’t say I blame them, but this is the last thing I need this morning.
Mom was already too much. Add in Violet fucking with my head more than she already has, and I’m ready to say screw it all and buy another bottle of Jack to replace the last one.
I know it won’t solve my problems. Despite the possibility of addiction running through my veins, I know I can’t continue to turn to it when life feels like too much. I don’t want to end up like Mom or even her dad, but I don’t know how else to cope with all the loss.
Resting my back against the wall next to the door, I focus on the fancy fluorescent lighting. Chandeliers that cost more than an entire year's salary for most hang overhead, shiny metal leaves welded onto it and stretching out like they would on a branch.
Little time passes before the door opens and a man in one hell of an expensive looking suit strolls into the room. He’s about my height but older. Way closer to Uncle Thad’s age. He has a thick, dark beard with grays mixed in.
“Hello,” he greets, addressing me the second he notices me near the door. “You must be Colson. Stewart Langlon,” he introduces as he extends a hand and props a folder under his armpit. “Circumstances be damned, it’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”
I swallow down my thanks and give his hand a firm shake before sinking mine back into the pocket it was in a second ago.
He undoes the button on his suit jacket before gesturing for me to take a seat. I’d rather walk out of this room than sit and listen to all the legal jargon that’s about to be crammed down my throat, but I remind myself that this is what’s left of Mom.
I owe it to her—and myself—to mind my manners and get this over with.
“Let’s get right to it, Stewart,” Uncle Thad encourages. He’s barely said a word today, but that’s how Uncle Thad is, light on his words. “It’s been a long morning already.”
Stewart smooths his palms down on the table before opening his folder where an abundance of paperwork lies. My attention skates over the pages covered in text. My head swishes with this funny feeling. I chalk it up to not eating since midday yesterday. Stomaching food isn’t exactly easy after losing a parent and going through a breakup.
“Right,” Stewart agrees. “I can imagine.”
“Just a few signatures and we should be set?” Aunt Bess reaffirms with her question. She’s looking a little worse for wear this morning, too. I couldn’t see it earlier. My head was too far up my own ass to notice, but I see it now. It’s there in the little lines creasing around her eyes when she gives Stewart a brief smile. The way her shoulders slump even though she’s repeatedly tried squaring them and sitting straight.
“Well…” Stewart raises his bushy eyebrows. “There’s actually something we need to discuss. Something my paralegal found last night that I didn’t get a chance to call you about.” Aunt Bess glances at Uncle Thad, and my stomach sinks to an impossible depth.
My aunt claimed this would be easy peasy, but Stewart is making it seem like there’s a roadblock in our way.
“Why didn’t you call?” she asks.
“It was late.” He waves his hand in the air while rifling through a few pieces of paperwork until he plucks one out. “I didn’t want to disturb you and figured we could discuss it this morning.”
“What is it?” Aunt Bess questions, her tone lacking patience.
Stewart looks up, and I gotta say, my entire body twists into knots with the way his expression suddenly falls. He was doing a decent job at keeping his spirits up for the sake of us, but now that we’re getting down to business, he wears his emotions on his sleeve. It’s the exact opposite of reassuring. I file it away as one of his flaws.
“When I work with families who have lost someone, I typically have my paralegal dig a little deeper into family history. Distant relatives have the tendency of coming out of the woodwork like roaches. We’ve known each other for a long time, Bess, and you know I like to be prepared for everything. When wills land in my office and relatives insist that part of what’s in itbelongs to them…well, normally, it’s pretty simple to handle. If your name isn’t on the will, you get nothing.
“What’s problematic is when a loved one passes and there’snowill. No legal document that binds certain family members to what remains.”
“Mom didn’t have a will?” Then again why would she? Her attention was always elsewhere.
Aunt Bess clears her throat. “I tried getting her to sign off on one after your grandmother died, but she wouldn’t do it.” A grim line draws between Aunt Bess’s brows. “What are you saying, Stewart?”
Yeah, Stewart, get to the fucking point.
Stewart slides the piece of paper in his hand over to my aunt and uncle while briefly giving me a look of…remorse?
I swallow my nerves and flick my eyes back over to my aunt, who suddenly has a look of horror on her face. That’s the best way to describe it. Along with the fleeting gasp that rolls out of her mouth onto the table in front of us.
“The point is that we initially thought Colson was next of kin for your sister. As you can see on that paper there, he’s not.”
What the hell is he talking about?
Mom doesn’t have anyone else.
I drop into the chair next to Aunt Bess and rip the paper out of her hand.
