Bequeathed

Chapter Two: The Will Part I

Claire and Rob walk into the lawyer’s office, their hands connected, fingers laced together.

“I’m here to see…” Claire scans the area around the receptionist’s desk, trying to spot stationery or a monogrammed door. “The lawyer.” She gives up. Claire removes her sunglasses. “I’m here for the reading of the will. I’m Claire…Claire White.”

“Good morning, Ms. White. You can have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Simms know you’re here.”

Simms. That’s right, Simms. Claire takes the seat that Rob leads her to. He sits next to her, rubs her knees. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks. He gives her knee a gentle squeeze.

Claire shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m sure she hasn’t left me much. I don’t think she ever really liked me. She took care of me when my parents passed because she felt obligated to. She put me through college then that was it. Completely cut off. In the end, we only did the bare minimum…birthday texts. Calls on Christmas.”

“You wouldn’t be here if she didn’t leave you something. She considered you enough to put you in her will. Whatever it is…” Rob takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. “....Whatever it is,” he continues, “you should treasure it.”

Claire smiles. “I’ll settle for anything. Even those awful souvenir cats.” Claire laughs. “They could cover a few months’ rent.”

Rob releases Claire’s hand, clears his throat. “We’ve talked about this, Claire. You can move in with me. Or I can move in with you and share the rent.”

“Yes, we have talked about this. If you want to help with my rent, help. I’m not stopping you. But I like the way things are now.”

“We’re together almost every night.”

“Yes, in your apartment or mine. Things change when it becomes ‘our’ apartment.”

“How long do you-”

“Ms. White.” A tall, slender man is standing at the receptionist’s desk. He looks much younger than Claire would expect her aunt’s lawyer to look.

Claire rises to her feet. “That’s me.” She teeters on her heel. She smooths her black dress and walks over to Mr. Simms. Mr. Simms ushers Claire into a conference room and to a table in the center of the room. Claire pulls out one of the six chairs and takes a seat. Quaint.

“Let’s get right to it,” Mr. Simms says.

“Let’s.”

“Your aunt has left everything to you.”

“What? What do you mean by everything?”

“Everything. The house, all her other assets, all the money. She essentially left all that she was worth, to you.”

“Why? Wait. I need to think. She has never given me anything. Why wait until she died to try to do right by me.”

Mr. Simms lifts his brow. “I was of the impression that she raised you, sent you to college.”

“She did. But-”

“Before you get too excited, there are conditions.”

“Ah. There it is. The trick.” Claire sighs, leans back into the chair. It swivels a little and moves away from the table. She pulls herself closer. “Let’s hear it. What are the conditions?”

“Well,” Mr. Simms says, “there’s really only one condition.”

“Cut the suspense. What is it?”

“You have to get married.”

“Is this a joke?” Claire studies Mr. Simms’ face, waiting for the laugh, searching for signs of mirth.

He shakes his head. “I’m very serious. In order for you to inherit all that your aunt has left, you have to get married.”

Claire laughs. “Rob will love this. To go from not wanting to share an apartment to marriage. Aunt Bev does know how to apply pressure.”

Mr. Simms sticks his index between his collar and neck; he slides his finger back and forth, creating space. “I’m afraid any marriage won’t do. Your marriage is to be arranged.” Mr. Simms examines the paper in front of him, sliding the top of his pen down the page. “Ah. Here. You’re to get married to a Mr. William James.”

“Who?”

“William James.”

“You said that already.” Claire drums the table with her crimson nails. “Who is he? How did Aunt Bev know him?”

Mr. Simms examines his papers again. “I haven’t contacted him. I figured you would need some time to process all of this. You have two weeks to consider, and another month to get married.”

“Or else?”

“The estate will be liquidated, divided into equal shares, and donated to the animal shelters in the area.”

“This is all too much. So if I don’t marry this William person…I get nothing? That’s what you’re saying.”

“Yes. If you do not marry Mr. James, you will inherit nothing.”

Claire gets up, kicks her chair into the wall behind her. “This is just like her. She has to control everything.” Claire storms to the door.

“You’ll need to keep the cats as well.”

Claire scoffs.

“It’s not a condition but it’s highly recommended that you keep them.”

Claire tries to open the door to the conference room. She pushes and pushes; the door doesn’t budge,

“Pull, don’t push,” Mr. Simm says. “You have two weeks to consider Ms. White. After that, I will start liquidating.”

Claire slams the door behind her and stomps past the reception desk over to Rob. Rob stands, reaches for her hand. Claire pulls her hand away. “Let’s go.” She marches ahead of him to the elevator, jabs the button, one, two, three, four times.

“Is this a moment I should push you to talk to me, or should I leave it for later?” Rob asks. The elevator doors dings; the doors open. “Not now, Rob.” She steps in, Rob enters behind her.

“Okay. We’ll talk later.” Rob reaches for Claire’s hand again. This time she lets him hold it though her fingers are limp. Her hand simply hangs there; she’s not actively holding on to him. They exit on the first floor and head to the main entrance of the building. On the outside, Claire pulls her hand away completely. “Maybe you should stay at your place tonight,” she says while shouldering her red clutch.

“I don’t know what just happened in there…” Rob points to the building at Claire’s back. “...but I know you shouldn’t be alone.”

"Let me rephrase. Stay at your apartment tonight.”

“Suit yourself, Claire.” Rob hails a taxi and gets in, leaving Claire on the sidewalk.

***

It’s three days later and Claire hasn’t made a decision. Her window is closing and she hasn’t even mentioned it to Rob. He hasn’t been back to her apartment since they left the lawyer’s office. He hasn’t called either. She dials his number, loses her nerves, and hangs up each time she tries to call. Claire tries again, fails again. She sets the phone down on the kitchen counter, reads his name over and over. Each time the phone starts to fall asleep, she taps the screen. She taps the screen again and again. Ten, fifteen minutes pass. She finally calls. She loses her nerve when the phone starts to ring, but she waits for Rob to answer.

“Hey,” Claire says.

Hey.

“How are you?”

Good. You?

“I’m good.”

Okay. Do you want to talk about what’s been bothering you?

Claire laughs, forced, nervous. “Not really.”

So why did you call?

“To talk about it.” Claire draw circles on her counter with her nails.

Do you want me to come over?

“No.” She answers too quickly. She catches herself. “No. Thank you but no. It will be better to have this conversation over the phone.”

Rob exhales. Okay. Go ahead.

“Aunt Bev left me everything.”

Okay?

“But I need to get married in order to claim it. If I want to inherit any of it, I must get married.”

Oh.

Oh? What does “oh” mean?

Rob says nothing else. Claire counts his breaths.

Claire. You know I’d marry you in an instant. But I don’t want this to be the reason that you do it. I want you to want to spend the rest of your life with me.

Tears race down Claire’s cheeks. She rakes the sleeve of her sweater across her face. She has to rip the bandaid off.

“It’s an arranged marriage,” Claire says. “In order to get my aunt’s money, I have to marry some guy I don’t even know.”

Oh! Okay. Inhale; exhale; more wordless breaths. You’re considering it.

“I didn't say that.” Claire’s protest is feeble.

You didn’t have to. It wouldn’t have taken you three days to tell me if you weren’t considering it.

“He lawyer didn’t say I have to be married to him forever. Or that the marriage has to be real. I simply have to marry him.”

So what? You expect me to wait?

“He and I will only be married on paper. You and I will be together in all the way that matters.”

Are you kidding me right now? Claire?

“Rob, please. If you’d just listen to me.”

I’ve listened. I’ve heard everything that you’ve said. You want to be married to him but have an affair with me.

“Our marriage won’t be real. Wha you and I have is real.”

Don’t patronize me, Claire. If what we had was real, you wouldn’t be considering this.

“So what? I should give up all that money because of your insecurities? You know I need it.”

No, you don’t need hundreds of millions of dollars. You need to live within your means. That’s what you need.

“I can’t believe you. I called to talk this through. I didn’t call for a fight.”

Rob is silent; Claire gives herself over to the silence, counting her breaths this time. One. Two. Inhale. Exhale. Remember to breathe. Inhale. Exhale.

“I don’t want to lose you, Rob.”

You won’t lose me.

Claire exhales. “Good. I knew you’d understand. Think of all the things we could do with this money- “

You won’t lose me, Claire. You’ve already given me up.

The line goes dead. “Hello. Hello? Rob?” Claire tries calling him; it goes straight to voicemail. She tries again; voicemail. She wants to go to him, bury herself in his chest, but she knows she can’t make him any promises. This is finally her opportunity to get out of debt. To live the life she’s always dreamed of. The life that was promised to her when she pursued her degree. She searches for Rob’s number and blocks him too. He may reach out to her, try to convince her that she’s making a bad mistake. She can’t allow him convince her to give up the money.