The lines around his eyes crinkled a little more deeply as he smiled. “Thankfully, that only happens in the movies.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Thankfully.”
Grace chose the chair directly across from her mother, and to the right of Mr. Minor. Still hung over with guilt, she kept her eyes on the attorney. A stack of papers was slid in front of her as Mr. Minor told her he had highlighted the important things she should note, the remainder being the customary legal mumbo-jumbo put in all wills.
Immediately, words jumped off the page at her as she read over the document.
Bequeathed. Living. Granddaughter. Grace. Assets. Morgan Manor.
The more she read, the more the room spun about her. Without a doubt, the others would be pissed. Even though he had left his four nieces and a nephew forty-five percent of his estate, they would only focus on what they didn’t get. Fifty percent he had left to her.
She tried to continue reading the highlighted words, but it was hard wrapping her mind around all that her grandfather had left her. Way before his passing, she’d only hoped for the car, and since he’d passed, the house, but only because she considered it to be her home. Words failed her. Her eyes suddenly focused on a name she hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Richard Morgan.
A name—and a man—she hadn’t seen in fifteen years. Her stomach lurched into her throat as her emotions churned. Obviously, she had no right to feel this way since her grandfather had the right to leave his assets to anyone he chose, but she couldn’t help it. Anger rose up from deep down within her, and her mother flinched with surprise as she flung the documents across the top of the table. “Are you kidding me? He’s going to be taken care of for the rest of his life even though he abandoned me and my mom?”
“Grace,” her mother said softly, surprising Grace that her tone wasn’t chastising, but sounded more empathetic.
Apparently accustomed to outbursts like hers, the attorney tried diverting her attention to a large cloth bag he laid at her feet. “Your grandfather also asked that I give you this. There is an envelope in the front zipper pocket. You don’t have to read it now, of course.”
Still seething and feeling more than a little betrayed, Grace jerked her head down and picked up an army green backpack. “A backpack?” she asked incredulously.
“I’m sure the envelope reveals the reasons, Miss Morgan.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she snapped. “Are we done?” She stared the attorney down, the manners her mother had drilled into her for all those years demanding that she wait to be dismissed. Grace had to get out of there. The walls were closing in fast, making it hard for her lungs to suck in air.
“Unless you have any questions for me.” That sounded like permission to leave to her. She shot up from the seat, grabbed the bag, and stomped toward the door. “I stuck a copy of the will inside the bag for you,” he added. “Please let me know if you have any questions.”
“Sure,” she said, without glancing back.
Quickly, Grace made her way to the elevators. She heard the clack of footsteps sounding behind her, but kept her face to the doors.
“Grace?”
“What!” she snapped, turning to face her mother.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” Laney reached out a tentative hand to touch her arm, but drew it back and held it tightly against her stomach. Concern pinched her brows together, and Grace could see what looked suspiciously like tears forming in her eyes.
“No,” Grace said, trying to calm herself. “I’m fine.”
Laney didn’t say any more as they both stepped quietly into the elevator. Just before the doors opened up on the first floor, Laney spoke up softly. “I’m sorry, Grace.”
Without looking at her, she replied, “Me too.” She then walked out of the building to her car and drove away.
Several times Grace glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure her mother wasn’t following. She flipped a quick turn into the park down the road, and drove into an area not visible from any roads going in or by the park. There was a baseball game in progress in a field close by, but no one was near the parking spot she chose at the far end of the lot. Still stewing, she slammed the gearshift into park, and smacked her palm against the