Rula Sinara - Almost A Bride

She turned on the kitchen light, set the water to boil and checked messages on her phone while her laptop booted up on the breakfast table. A few messages were from new acquaintances at work letting her know about where they were planning to meet for Friday night happy hour. She ignored them. One was from Lana, her college apartment roommate and friend sending her sympathy from New York. She’d met her through the same master’s program. Mandi sent her a quick reply. She scrolled down and almost missed the one from a name she recognized as Nana’s lawyer and old friend.

She had forgotten all about that part of dealing with a loved one’s passing. She was supposed to meet him this morning at nine regarding Nana’s will. He was confirming the time. She’d be there, but she dreaded it. Hearing Joel read off Nana’s will would only grind in the reality that had hit her today at the funeral.

She stared at the message for a second. Nana’s will. She knew she would have to help sort through her grandmother’s personal items, but in her mind, she pictured the house and everything in it as staying the same forever. But for what? Her father? He’d likely inherit it, but he had his own place on the sound side and never really cared for the cottage. He claimed that it was a money pit in need of too much restoration and repairs, especially after hurricanes. True, the salty air and frequent storms had weathered the place and it needed constant upkeep, like most homes along the Outer Banks, but it had charm and told a story, like the lines on the face of someone who’d experienced more than their share of life. Someone like Nana.

But Mandi wouldn’t be able to argue with her dad if he wanted to sell it. He never listened to her anyway. She certainly couldn’t care for it herself, not just financially in terms of repairs—she was still new at her job and had tons of college debt to pay—but logistically, too. She wouldn’t be around. A sadness enveloped her. This cottage held a lot of memories. Memories that hadn’t been captured in Nana’s journal. Sometimes a person didn’t have a choice in life. Letting go was a part of living, wasn’t it? That was one lesson she’d learned in life, so far. And if she wanted to honor her grandmother’s wish and find success in life, she’d have to let go of this place, too. She closed the lawyer’s email and held the phone to her chest. She didn’t care what was in the will. It didn’t matter.

She didn’t want to gain anything from Nana’s death. She just wanted her back.

* * *

THE LAW OFFICE of Joel Burkitt occupied a space on the second story of what was the original Turtleback volunteer fire station. The station had been moved to a more accommodating space fifteen years ago, partially funded by the sale of the original. The ground floor housed a yoga studio that most people in town claimed stayed afloat only because Joel, who owned the building, was sweet on the instructor.

Mandi noticed her father’s car parked along the street in front of the yellow building. Joel hadn’t mentioned having them both show up together, although it made sense since Nana didn’t have any other family in town. Mandi figured Joel would just give her a copy of the will, review any mention of her in it, and that would be it. That’s what she’d hoped would happen. Nothing formal or staged like in the movies. She pulled up behind her dad’s car and went inside, noting the studio had only two students in it, currently in mountain poses. She climbed the steps to the Burkitt Law Office and knocked before entering.

“Mandi, thanks for joining us. I’m sorry that I didn’t catch you yesterday at the service,” Joel said, waving her in.

“No worries. Hi, Dad.” She shook Joel’s hand and sat on the empty chair next to her father.

“Mandi.” John nodded his welcome, then motioned around the room. “Hard to believe you could have been sharing this practice with Joel by now. A shame, really.”

“Seriously, Dad?” She couldn’t believe he was embarrassing her by bringing up the fact that she had refused to go to law school and, according to him, had thrown away an opportunity he’d set up for her to work with Burkitt and eventually take over his practice when he retired.

Joel cleared his throat.

“Law isn’t for everyone, John. And not everyone makes it in,” he said, barely raising a brow as he looked over at her dad. “Although, I’m sure if Mandi had wanted to and had applied, she would have been accepted.”

Wow. Had her dad been rejected from law school back in his day? Why hadn’t she heard about that? Did Nana know? Or had her son applied without telling her...in case he didn’t make it in. It would be just like him to go about things in a way that allowed him to cover up failure and save face. John dropped the subject. That said something.

Joel took a third chair from the corner of the room and placed it next to her. Mandi frowned. Her father uncrossed his legs.

“Is someone else joining us?” he asked, sitting straighter.

“Sorry if I kept you all waiting,” Gray said, as he entered the room without bothering to knock.

Neither Mandi nor John said anything. Joel greeted Grayson by his full name and motioned for him to sit. Why did Gray’s being here surprise her? Of course Nana would have left something for Gray to remember her by. She had treated him like family and he’d been good to her. Mandi would always be grateful that he had been a good neighbor to Nana and had kept an eye out for her. It was just that... Mandi hadn’t expected to see him today. Seeing him did things to her. It shook the ground beneath her feet. Gray’s eyes met hers and she quickly looked away and focused on Mr. Burkitt.

“What’s he doing here?” John asked, not bothering to mask his disapproval. Joel shot her father a professional smile.

“Everyone here is mentioned in the will and, although I had intended to meet with Dr. Zale separately, I realized late last night that your mother had specifically requested a group reading. Dr. Zale was kind enough to adjust his schedule this morning at the last minute. Today is about your mother’s wishes, John. Not yours. And now that we’re all here, let’s get started. This shouldn’t take long.” Joel shuffled through some papers, straightened the ones he needed, then began reading the initial formality and a list of animal and children’s charities she had bequeathed money to. “For you, John, your mother left you the sum of ten thousand dollars.”

“Ten?”

Mandi and Gray exchanged looks. Her father wasn’t shocked in a positive way. Nope. His face turned a purply shade of red. The sum total Nana had given to charity was more than twice what she’d give to her own son.

“That’s what it says, John. As for you, Mandi, you now own half of her house and all of its contents, including—your grandmother has specified—the antique pottery bowl handed down from her side of the family and all of her jewelry.”

The color rose in her father’s neck and his expression tightened. Direct mention of that bowl was a definite dig on Nana’s part. She knew her son well and he’d nagged her one too many times about getting it appraised and possibly selling it. After all, a chunk of pottery didn’t really serve a purpose in his eyes. He didn’t value history. He only worried about the future.

“I assume, then, the other half of the house is mine,” John said. He seemed mollified enough. Half a house softened the blow the measly ten grand had given him.

Mandi didn’t understand him. She never would. Ten thousand would make a huge dent in her graduate school debt, not to mention credit card. Not that she’d take it even if he offered. Money gave him control. She did learn from history and she wasn’t letting him ever have a say in her future.