The will
994 Words
The will reading was scheduled for the next day. I’d met Grandmother’s attorney, Mr. Landry, at the funeral, and he’d suggested—almost insisted—that I be there. Granny didn’t have much, I thought. Just the house and some personal effects. Nothing worth making a fuss over.
I was so, so wrong.
The next day, the family gathered back at the house. One o’clock sharp, Mr. Landry would arrive. My mom, Aunt Vivian, and Uncle Luke were barely patient, pacing and checking their watches, already mentally dividing up whatever assets existed.
As soon as Mr. Landry showed up. They all sat at the large table in the dining room, looking expectant.
“This is Clara’s last will and testament,” Mr. Landry began, adjusting his glasses. “It is to be read only when all her children are present.”
“We’re all here,” Uncle Luke said impatiently. “Can we get on with it?”
“Good.” Mr. Landry opened the folder. “To my daughter Vivian, I leave my collection of porcelain pigs.”
Aunt Vivian’s face went slack with disbelief. “Pigs? Porcelain pigs?”
“To my son Luke, I leave your father’s pocket watch and knife, and my collection of handkerchiefs.”
Uncle Luke’s expression darkened. “That’s it? Handkerchiefs?”
“To my daughter Elaine—” my mother leaned forward eagerly “—I leave my encyclopedias and maps.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
“Before I continue,” Mr. Landry said calmly, pulling out a tablet, “There is a video.”
He pressed play, and suddenly Granny was there—alive, laughing, sitting in this very room. My throat closed up immediately.
“I bet you’re all thinking Mom has lost her mind,” Granny said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let me tell you why I’ve left these items.”
She looked directly at the camera as if she could see us all sitting there.
“Vivian, as a child, do you remember your pig crackers? The little cookies you loved so much? That’s why I collected those porcelain pigs—to remember the little girl you used to be before you forgot to visit.”
Aunt Vivian’s face flushed red.
“Luke, your father and his handkerchiefs. You bought him one every single year and sent it to him. All he really wanted was a visit, not another handkerchief.”
Uncle Luke looked down at the table.
“And Elaine—” Granny’s voice softened. “Your father used to beg me to sell this land and travel with you. Hence, the maps and encyclopedias. He wanted to see the world with his daughter. But you were always too busy.”
My mother’s eyes were shining with unshed tears.
“I love each and every one of you,” Granny continued. “I would have enjoyed more time and more visits from my children, but I understand—life happens. Now, Mr. Landry may continue with my will. I love you all.”
The screen went dark.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Mr. Landry cleared his throat. “To my granddaughter Elara, I leave this house and all the land—” he looked at me over his glasses “—all four hundred and seventy-three acres of it.”
My heart stopped.
He slid an envelope across the table to me. “She also left you a letter to be opened privately. Any money in her accounts is to be split evenly between her three children.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then all hell broke loose.“WHAT?!” Aunt Vivian shrieked, shooting to her feet. “She left everything to her? A child?!”
“This is insane,” Uncle Luke said, standing as well. “We’ll contest this. There’s no way—”
“Mom, you can’t be serious about this,” my mother said, though her voice was quieter, hurt rather than angry. “Elara doesn’t even live here. She has a life in the city. Why would you—”
“We will contest this!” Aunt Vivian’s voice was shrill. “This land is worth millions! You can’t just give it all to—”
“Do you think I want this land?!” I screamed, surprising myself with the volume. Everyone fell silent, staring at me. “I want Grandmother back! I want her here, not—not land and houses and—”
I couldn’t finish. Tears were streaming down my face, my chest heaving.
I shoved back from the table and walked out, the letter clutched in my hand.
Behind me, the shouting resumed.
Minutes later, I was sitting on the porch steps, trying to breathe, when footsteps approached.
“Hey, Sis.”
I looked up to find Liam and Chloe standing there, looking uncomfortable but genuine.
“It makes sense why you got it,” Chloe said quietly, sitting down beside me. “You’re the one person who actually loves this place.”
“The rest of them just see dollar signs,” Liam added, leaning against the porch rail. “But you—you always belonged here.”
I wiped my eyes. “I don’t know what to do with it.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Chloe said. “But listen, if you need any advice—about selling, about keeping it, whatever—just let us know, okay?”
They left shortly after, and I knew the truth: they didn’t want to help. They wanted money. Maybe not as desperately as the aunts and uncles, but they were hoping I’d sell and cut them in.
About an hour later, everyone was gone. The house felt cavernous and empty, filled with the ghosts of arguments and Granny’s laughter from the video.
I sat down alone in the study, surrounded by her books and her memories, and finally opened the letter.
- Writer
