Until Series(46)
On that thought, I go to his room and make the bed, clean up the bathroom where all my stuff has gathered then I collect all of my clothing from his closet and pack up. I gather Beast and we go to my dad’s place so he can go with me to the lawyer.
I am stunned. I mean, this kind of thing doesn’t happen to people every day. I am sitting across from Mr. Stevenson and I can’t find my voice. My mouth is moving and I’m sure I look like a fish out of water.
He sits forward in his chair. “Are you okay, darlin’?” Mr. Stevenson asks. It has to be a trick question. I mean, I am a millionaire. That’s good, right? Everyone wants to be rich. I just don’t know what to think about being told that I will be one million five hundred and thirty-six thousand dollars richer by the end of the month. Part of me wants to tell him that I can’t take it, but then a bigger part of me realizes how many people I can help with that money.
“Um, I—I just need a minute to process this,” I tell him honestly.
“Take your time.”
I look at him then over at my dad. He is holding my hand and his face looks shocked as well.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Of course,” he says, sitting back in his chair. He looks like he belongs in an old movie. He has on black slacks with a button up shirt but instead of a tie, he has one of those silver pendants that have two pieces of leather hanging from it. On his feet, he has cowboy boots and I know that he wore a cowboy hat because it is sitting on his desk.
“Why did they leave it to me and not my mom?” Why would they leave me anything when I don’t even know them?
“I’m not sure of their reasoning. A few weeks before the car accident, they came in and changed their will so that you would be the sole beneficiary of their estate at the age of twenty-five. Now, your mother contacted me about their estate shortly after the death of her parents and I explained the situation to her. She was upset, but said she understood why her parents left their estate to you. I’m surprised that she never told you about this.”
I’m not surprised she didn’t tell me. We aren’t close and she never talks about her parents. Maybe she doesn’t talk about them because they left me the money. That might also be why she treated me so poorly growing up. She feels that I took something away that should be hers. I decide I am going to call her later and tell her I will give her half of the money. They were her parents and I’m sure they would want her to have some of it.
“Are you okay, baby girl?”
I turn towards my dad. His eyes are concerned, and I know I’m so lucky to have him. His love is unconditional. No strings, no stipulations. He just loves me. He doesn’t even care that I now have money. And I know that if my mom was sitting where he is, she would be mentally spending every penny.
“Yeah, Dad. I think I need to call Mom later and talk to her about this.” I squeeze his hand. I can tell by the look on his face that he wants to say something.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, baby girl.”
“Dad, I want to tell her that I’m going to give her half the money.”
“No, that’s your money. You are going to keep every fucking penny. That bitch is not getting one cent of that money.”
“Dad,” I whisper. “They were her parents. No matter how you feel about her, they gave her life. I feel like they would have wanted her to have something from them.”
“Fuck, no. They left it to you, not her, and they did that shit for a reason.”
“Dad—”
“Baby girl, I want you to think about this for a week. Seven days. Then, you decide what to do about it. But don’t call her yet. Wait a week and see how you feel.” I feel tears sting my eyes and I know my dad hates my mom for what she took away from him. I also know he wants me to make a good decision.
“Okay, a week,” I agree. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me close.
“I love you, baby girl. Never forget that.”
“I know, Daddy.” I hug him tighter.
“Okay, November,” Mr. Stevenson says, bringing my attention back to him. “Since that is all out of the way, I’m going to have Nick call you in a few days when I have all the papers ready to be signed. Once that’s done, we can talk about the accounts and I can help you get things sorted so that it’s more manageable for you to handle on your own.”
“That would be great,” I tell him. He stands and Dad and I follow. Mr. Stevenson comes around his desk and shakes my hand.
“We’ll be in touch,” he says, walking us out to the front of the office where Nick is sitting behind a desk, typing away at a computer.