Within minutes her phone rang. “Hello, Fran.”
“What the hell happened? For the love of God. One simple estate. How difficult could that be to handle? Do I have to do everything?”
“Not exactly. Mom and Dad’s estate is larger than we imagined. You, dear sister, are now required to take part.” Claire stiffened her spine. The words she wanted to fling at her sister went unspoken, sawdust on her tongue, and her face burned.
“I don’t like your tone. So unlike you. What’s wrong? Stress, well yes, you’re stressed.” Fran was trying to use her corporate management techniques.
Claire’s back was against the wall. “Do you want part of the estate or not? Right now, the valuation of the estate is over a million.”
“Excuse me? Did you say one million, as in dollars?”
“Yes. So, if you want your part you’d better come home and help with the estate. I’ve got a career too, and I don’t expect to have my life interrupted while you go on with yours.” There, she’d spoken her mind and exhilaration surged within her veins. Finally, her darn critic was doing backflips. Claire’s neck and shoulders relaxed instead of reacting like curdled milk. Every other time she spoke with Fran, her muscles tensed and she’d ended up with a headache if she tried to negotiate a position that involved standing up for her rights.
“Fine. But I expect to arrive and not have a fight on my hands. If you have something you want to say, then now’s the time, sister. You seem to have a large chip on your shoulder ever since arriving home.”
“It’s high time you learned to compromise and get along. I’m not your serving girl. I’d appreciate your help with the estate. As I’ve said, it’s more complicated than what we first believed. You stand to inherit a nice sum, and your involvement isn’t asking too much. I don’t know if I want to sell the house. I’m more than willing to buy your portion or we can own it jointly as long as you’ll agree to the upkeep. I think an estate sale is ludicrous. Nothing is really worth much, and I’d think Mom and Dad would rather donate what little there is than try to make a few pennies.”
“Hah. That’s how little you know. In estate sales, even the household cleaners are sold. People are scavengers and will buy anything if they think it’s a good deal. How do you think I make my money? Put on a price tag and hang a sale sign and buyers will come. But that’s your choice. I’ll have an estate consultant come in and determine what everything’s worth. Afterward, we can decide if you think it’s worth selling or if you want to buy out my share.”
“You’re going to sell me things like the plates, glasses, and rugs? Should I clean out the refrigerator or should the condiments be included in the estate?”
“Don’t be crass. Yes, please clean out the refrigerator and whatever perishables are around. Otherwise, we’ll have to spring for a pest control company to come out. Mom never would have allowed her home to be dirty. Why start now?”
She didn’t want to continue bickering with Fran. Her sister would just keep going to get the last word. She’d already planned on cleaning out the kitchen, and nothing needed to change on that front.
“Call me and let me know when to expect you.”
“I’ll have my assistant make arrangements and let you know. Probably just email the itinerary, if that’s fine with you.”
“Yes. I’ll look for it. There’s another appointment at the attorney’s office day after tomorrow. We need to sign some legal documents for the probate court. It takes about sixty days to hear back and then another thirty days or so for the estate to be finalized, taxes paid, and the money disbursed. Shall I let Bob know you’re coming?”
“Bob Chase, Sr. or Jr.?” Fran had softened her voice.
“Bob Jr.” Claire closed her eyes. Dustin was right. Fran had dated around. She’d been less than interested in her sister’s activities during high school. They’d hung out with separate crowds and didn’t go to the same parties. Dustin hadn’t been part of either group but sometimes hung out with her friends. Then she couldn’t recall seeing him in any group. He became a loner of sorts, hanging out with some guys who raced motocross. Well, she certainly knew now what Fran had done to make him drop out of sight. They’d both been trapped. Well, not anymore.
Chapter Seven
Claire hung up and walked out the front door. She approached the gate between her house and Dustin’s property and lifted the latch. The white wooden boards had been recently painted and the gate swung back on some kind of spring. Stepping stones and pavers formed a walk between Dustin’s home and the barn. The siding on Dustin’s house no longer dipped and splintered. He was right about fixing up the house. Raised, landscaped beds of shrubs and flowering plants were mulched and landscape lighting had been installed. New shutters were up. The back porch opened up to a tiled patio equipped with a new gas grill and wrought iron furniture.