“Absolutely.” The woman stood, offering a bright smile. “Ms. Everly told me you were beautiful, but she undersold it. You are just lovely. And your hair!”
“Thank you,” Xeni said, sidestepping the woman’s curious grasp. She ignored the pained look on Martha’s face and waited.
“Yeah, well. Um, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll let Bart know you’re here.”
“Thank you.” Xeni lowered herself into a creaky wooden chair next to Bess. She looked around the office space, taking in the photos and the news clippings on the walls, and the old-timey maps of the town center. When she’d had enough of L.A., a quick trip to Palm Springs or Santa Barbara was usually enough to hit her reset button. Xeni couldn’t imagine moving to a small town like this, so far away from her friends and family.
“Martha’s harmless enough. They just—” Bess started to whisper.
“No, I get it. I get the same thing back home. I was in line at Whole Foods last week and this woman picked up her daughter and told her to feel my hair.” Xeni hadn’t done much beyond trim her ends in ten years. As a result, she had a gorgeous mane of long, thick natural hair. Fools from all walks of life were drawn to it.
Bess’s eyes sprang wide. “Mercy.”
“Used it as a teachable moment for the child, which her mother didn’t like. If you’re not going to tell your kids that human petting zoos are a thing of the past, I will.”
Bess chuckled quietly and patted Xeni’s knee. “I think Martha got the message.”
Martha reappeared a moment later, her bright smile refreshed. “Come on in, ladies. Bart will see you. Can I get you water or coffee?”
“I’m fine. Thank you, sweetie.”
“No, thank you,” Xeni added. She was already on edge. Lunch had provided the recharge she needed, but on the short drive back into the center of town, the gravity of part two of all of this finally hit her. She’d lost people before. Her grandparents, friends who had slipped away too soon. But she’d never been responsible for any part of theafter.
She knew she could handle it. She was an Everly. She could handle anything. All she had to do was sit down with this Bart Barber and find out exactly what her aunt had left her. Then she was off to sit down with the realtor. Next came the biggest job, cleaning out the house and deciding what to do with it.
She tried not to think about work. The Whippoorwill School where she taught kindergarten had agreed to a three-week leave. She could negotiate longer if she needed, but beyond two months she would have to sit out the rest of the academic year. She couldn’t afford to do that and she didn’t want to. She needed to wrap things up here in New York, get back to her students, her family and friends, and get on with the rest of her life. It was how she coped with any level of extreme stress, looking forward and pressing on. She could and absolutely would do it. One step at a time.
She followed Bess and Martha down the hall into a conference room dominated by a large table. There was barely enough room for the twelve wooden chairs crammed around it. A pitcher of water and glasses were at the far end. Xeni took a seat next to Bess, both of them facing the door.
“Thank you again. I’m pretty overwhelmed right now.” Xeni said quietly.
“No need to thank me. Sable was always there when I needed her. And now I’m gonna be here for you.”
An older White man and a White woman in her late forties entered the room a few moments later.
“Mrs. Thompson. One day I’ll get you in here for the right reasons,” Bart Barber said. His tone was dry, but Xeni wasn’t entirely sure he was joking. Whatever was happening though, Bess was in on it.
“I’m not leaving my husband for you, Bart.”
“Yet. Miss Everly? This is Mora Jordan.”
“Your aunt’s financial advisor,” Ms. Jordan tacked on.
“Hello.” Xeni stood and shook both their hands.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry you had to witness the old folks flirting,” Mr. Barber said.
“I’ll allow it until Bess tells me otherwise,” she replied.
He shot her a firm nod before taking his own seat on the other side of the table beside Ms. Jordan. “We’re just waiting on one more person,” he said, “and then we’ll get started.” Almost on cue, Xeni noticed the atmospheric change of the front door opening. A second later she heard Mason McInroy’s voice.
“Been running late all day.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Martha replied. “Right this way.”
The moment she saw Mason’s giant frame fill the doorway, the wave of confusion that suddenly hit her was joined by another feeling she couldn’t explain. She watched as Mason actually had to duck and turn to squeeze into the conference room. She swallowed a weird pinch of anxiety and focused onwhyhe was there.
“My apologies. Just had to get Shelby settled after the lunch rush. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Oh—” Xeni felt his gaze land on her. He seemed just as confused. “Should I come back?”
