Just as Mrs. Webb had predicted, Rose received a call from her mother’s attorney early the next morning, insisting on meeting immediately. Charlotte got her mother on her cell phone and helped negotiate on behalf of Rose. Then the strange three-way call was over.
“So, did your folks figure anything out?”
“My mom was being strangely coy, so I think she may have something up her sleeve. She did say she needed to make a stop, but she’ll meet us at that guy’s office. She insists on representing you personally.” The blonde girl hugged Rose. “I’m so happy you two are friends now. It was driving me crazy having the two most important women in my life fighting.”
“Well, friends may still be a bit off, but I don’t think we’re enemies anymore. So, what do you wear for things like this?” After ignoring most of Charlotte’s suggestions because they involved thongs and leather, she got dressed and the two of them headed to the law offices of Robert Jones. They waited in the parking lot for Mrs. Webb to arrive. Annabel had a quirky little grin on her face, but refused to explain what she had on her mind. They went inside and sat down.
“Well,” said Mr. Jones, “my client has produced the proof of marriage required. Barring the existence of a will, by state law Mrs. McGuire is entitled to an equal share of her former husband’s estate.
“You’re right,” said Annabel. There was silence in the room. They had expected the top-notch lawyer to come out swinging. For a brief moment, Rose was wondering if she had been duped. “Though if we go to court, I’m sure I can the amount your client is owed reduced due to my client’s personal investment in maintaining the house. But I’m sure she will be entitled to something.”
Jones looked worried. He may have been a rat in a silk tie, but he knew a trap when he smelled it. “So you have no problem with getting an independent party to assess the value of the remaining belongings, house, vehicle and property to determine how much my client should be receiving?”
“Not quite.” Annabel looked awfully smug, and suddenly Rose found her smile again. She sensed a great big ‘but’ coming on. “But you seem to have overstepped your bounds. Your client is not entitled to any profits regarding the property itself. The house, yes, but not the property.”
“Don’t be absurd. If the property belonged to the late Mr. McGuire, then . . .”
“Well, it did belong to a late Mr. McGuire, but not your client’s husband.” She pulled out the stack of files she had gotten from Rose’s filing cabinet, as well as a much newer, cleaner looking file. “While the recently deceased Charles McGuire left no will, HIS father, a Mr. Samuel McGuire did.”
“What does that old freak’s will have to do with this?” piped in Beatrice.
“Shut . . . your . . . mouth,” said Rose coldly. Her grandfather had been a quack, but at least he had treated her like family, unlike either of her parents. Her mother sat back and stayed silent. She instinctively knew that her daughter was more than capable of kicking her fat ass.
“Actually, ma’am, it matters a great deal. While the elder Mr. McGuire’s will did leave the house and some other things to his son, the rights to his property had an unusual wording. His land holdings were left to ‘his next surviving blood relative.’ A tad eccentric, but his records showed him to be a little unusual.”
“I’ll say,” started Beatrice. “The man was a . . .” Her tirade was cut off when Rose started audibly cracking the knuckles of her good hand.
“Well, your husband never actually claimed any of the property.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Apparently, because your father-in-law ‘neglected’ to tell him about them. It seems your husband was seen as something of a . . . well, failure for his father. All your husband had to do was go talk to the administrator of his father’s will, and he would have been told all about it. But apparently your husband was too pathetic and lazy to do that. Well, as Rose McGuire’s attorney, I did just that. Charles McGuire probably thought that the house was all the inheritance he was going to get. Well, since he is no longer alive to make a claim, the rights and deeds to all Samuel McGuire’s properties falls solely to his sole remaining blood relative. That would be my client, who will be finalizing HER inheritance this afternoon. And since the house and truck themselves are not in particularly good condition, the amount YOUR client can expect will be minimal. Most of the value was in the property itself, which Beatrice McGuire has NO claim to whatsoever. When you are ready to assess the value of the remaining items, let ME know. Do not contact my client directly anymore. We will work out any payment owed to your client at that time. Since it is proper for one party to accept a cash settlement equal to their share of the inheritance, that is what we will do, so there will be no need to sell the house. After the assessment, my client will pay your client the agreed amount, and formal ownership of the house will fall to her. Oh, and in the meantime, if you or your client step foot on Rose McGuire’s property for any other reason than to take part in the assessment process, it will be considered trespassing and both of you will be arrested. Good day. Girls, shall we go?” Rose and Charlotte got to their feet and followed Mrs. Webb out the door. Once outside, Annabel said, “God that felt good!” Without warning, Rose caught the elder Mrs. Webb in a breathtaking hug, and Charlotte joined in as well. “I seem to be up to my armpits in young women. Now, let’s go get lunch and then you can go take control of your land.”
They had lunch at a ritzy, upscale restaurant where the drinks cost more than most meals Rose had ever consumed. But Mrs. Webb was apparently a favored client at that establishment, and she was picking up the tab.
Rose was confused on one issue. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, but how am I going to make a cash offer to Beatrice? I don’t have that kind of money, even if it is for just half the house and half the truck.”
Mrs. Webb finished off her iced-tea. “Well, it really isn’t that much. The value of the house will be minimal without the property rights. You might have to sell some of your property to . . .” She stopped when she saw that Rose was just staring at her blankly. “You really had no idea . . .”
“No idea about what?”
“Your grandfather may have been a little ‘off-his-rocker,’ but he owned quite a bit of property. Did you ever wonder why no one ever tried developing the land around your house?”
“I just figured no one wanted it.”
“It’s near a large university. Everyone would want it. Your grandfather owned close to one hundred acres of forestland surrounding your house.”
Rose almost spit her diet-Pepsi all over the table.
“And that’s not all,” Annabel continued, sounding obviously excited. “He also had plots of land all over the city and all across the state. He had been inheriting land from your ancestors for almost a century. Some of that acreage is in prime locations. You could sell just a couple of deeds and have enough to pay that bitch-mother of yours, open your own business and have plenty of cash left to spend. Young lady, you just became very wealthy.”
Rose was stunned. Her life had taken another startling turn, and she wasn’t sure how to react. So Charlotte showed her, first by hugging her tightly and then by kissing her repeatedly all over her face.
——————– —————————–
When that evening rolled around, Rose was exhausted. She had spent all afternoon signing papers and negotiating the sale of some of her new property in the southern portion of the state. She had gone from “barely scraping by” to “rolling in dough” in the course of a day. Charlotte had gone home for a few minutes to excitedly help her mother explain the day’s events to her father. Before they had gone their separate ways, Mrs. Webb had given Rose a genuinely warm hug, and gave the young woman a note that had apparently been left in the care of his attorney. He had left it for Rose, on the off chance she was able to claim his legacy to her. It was short and to the point, just the way her grandfather had liked things. She had tears in her eyes as she read it a second time.
“Dear Rose,
I’m writing this note because I realize my health is failing, and I’m not good enough with words to tell you face to face what I’m thinking. I realize you’re only nine years old at the time I’m writing this, but you’re smarter and wiser than your years suggest. I look at your father, who has selfishly and foolishly squandered everything in his life, and nothing more so than the delightful young girl who is his daughter. Your whole life, you’ve shown yourself to be a fighter and a free spirit. I remember visiting you one day after you had been sent home from school in the second grade. You had beat up a boy who had made fun of your hair. I was so proud of you, though I guess I shouldn’t have encouraged you to go picking fights. But you showed more spunk in that moment than your worthless father did in his whole life. I just knew you weren’t the type to lie down for anyone, and I hope that hasn’t changed by the time you read this.