“Where’s my phone?” She pushed her hands into her hair, pulling it away from her face as she circled, looking haphazardly around the room before she started collecting her clothes.
“I put it in my front pocket last night,” I said as she took a deep breath and retrieved my pants from the floor. Hastily she rummaged through my pockets until she found her phone. When looked up at me I knew she wasn’t ready to deal with all the shit that came along with handling her grandparents’ estate. I reached out and she came over. I wrapped my top sheet around her as she sat on the edge of the bed, opened her antiquated phone, and pressed the play button before putting it on speakerphone.
Chapter Nineteen
~ Wilson ~
“Good evening, Miss Mooney, this is Dax Fuller from Fuller, Karts and Associates. I’ve been trying to reach you for a couple of days. I’m calling because we have discovered a sizable discrepancy in your grandparents’ estate. Unfortunately, if it isn’t addressed before the end of this year, it may push the estate into probate and it could cost you a considerable portion in taxes. I really need you to return my call ASAP. My number at the office is….”
But I didn’t hear anything he said after that. All I could hear was a buzzing in my ears, something that was self-induced by the pressure in my head. What did he just say? What does it mean? The whole messed-up idea that I was going to have to become that responsible girl really twisted the pain in my gut. I just wanted to have a little while longer where nothing mattered but the here and now. But the look on Max’s face told me I couldn’t. He didn’t even have to utter a word. I knew what he was going to say. So I scrolled though the numbers and called Mr. Fuller back.
Max pushed his lips to the side of my head as the ringing from the speaker on my phone filled the room. Three long rings before a high-pitched, singsong ladies voice answered with her long-ass welcoming spiel.
“Hi, this is Wilson Mooney, Mr. Fuller called—”
“Oh, yes, Miss Mooney, Mr. Fuller is expecting your call. Please hold while I connect you,” the woman’s extra perky voice interrupted, spinning me back out of my head. I had barely worked out my whole long opening before she put me on hold. Suddenly there were a couple of clicks on the line before the speaker on my phone struggled and became distorted with the classical “hold” music blaring, filling the room.
I felt my body vibrate. My cheeks flushed and my hands perspired, making holding the phone a chore. Max noticed, and slipped around behind me. He cleared my hair off my shoulders, adjusting the strands so his hands were massaging the bend of my neck, right where all the stress of the phone call seemed to migrate.
“Oh, babe, your muscles are so tight,” Max mumbled before he pressed his strong, thick thumbs on either side of my spine just above my shoulder blades. His fingers curved around the top of my shoulders and splayed across my clavicles. It felt like his fingers were pushing release buttons across my shoulders. I dropped my head and moaned. Even though it hurt, it was a good pain; a pain with purpose.
The classical music was still blasting through the phone when I decided I should just hang up. At this point I’d been on hold for a couple of minutes—too long in my mind.
“I think I’m gonna hang up,” I posited as Max continued to work the knots out of my shoulders. I heard him take a massive breath before the screeching violin music abruptly stopped and the scuffle of the phone receiver being picked up took over.
“Hello, Miss Mooney, so glad you decided to call me back. Basically, the nuts and bolts of the situation—oh, wait, let me back up. You’ve gotten my previous messages right?” he huffed.
“Yeah, I did. I wasn’t able to call you back right away,” I said as I swallowed hard. Guilt flooded my mind and I felt like the biggest ass-hat for not calling him sooner.
“Well, when your grandfather expired over six months ago, he was in the process of transferring all of his possessions into your name. But because he failed to file a quick claim or transfer of ownership on the house, it’s created a sticky situation, to say the least. The good thing is, it’s not like we are dealing with a multi-million dollar estate or anything; but what we are facing are certain tax ramifications and a threat of probate if we don’t get the proper papers signed and recorded by December 31st, midnight…”
In a matter of a couple of words, I could feel my head fill with pressure and I just wanted to crawl into a hole. How dare he say my grandfather was expired! This guy was talking about my grandpa like he was a gallon of milk or yogurt. This is my gramps, for God’s sake! The man who stepped into being my father when I didn’t have one. The man who did everything in his power to give me everything he and my grandma couldn’t give Candi.