CHAPTER THIRTY–SEVEN–Behind Closed Doors
“How dare you!” Uncle George sputtered. “I was there for her when Roger passed. Where were you? Off on your cruise, If I recall correctly!”
“That’s quite enough!” Mr. Goldstein’s voice boomed out, silencing the squabbling siblings. “If you cannot control yourselves, 1 will have security remove you from the premises. ”
Laura sank lower in her seat, wishing she could disappear. She caught Jen’s eye, and they shared a look of mutual embarrassment and disbelief.
Mr. Goldstein shuffled his papers, clearly trying to regain his composure: “Now, mowing on. To my great–niece, Laura Thornton, I leave the sum of $80,000.”
For a moment, Laura thought she had misheard. She sat up straight, her eyes wide with shock. Around her, the room erupted into chaos
“What?
“Laura? Why Laura?”
“That’s not fair!”
Laura felt all eyes turn to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Congratulations, honey,” her mother said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. But Laura could see the questions in her eyes.
Before anyone could demand explanations, Mr. Goldstein pressed on, his voice rising above the din. “And finally, to my beloved companion, Mr. Whiskers, I leave the sum of $500,000, to be held in trast for his care and comfort for the remainder of his natural life,
The room fell silent for a beat, then exploded.
“The cat?” Aunt Susan screeched, leaping to her feet. “She left half a million dollars to a cat?”
In her haste, she knocked into a side table, sending a priceless Chinese vase crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering porcelain was lost in the uproar that followed
“This is ridiculous!” Cousin Steve yelled, las face purple with rage. “I’m contesting this will!”
“You can’t contest it, you idiot,” Mike shot back. “You’re not even mentioned in it!”
Steve lunged at Milos, and suddenly the two were grappling on the floor, sending chairs and other relatives flying.
Laura watched in horror as the scene devolved into utter chaos. Aunt Patricia was sobbing dramatically about the china, while Uncle
George and Aunt Mildred were engaged in a shouting match that seemed to encompass decades of family grievances.
In the midst of it all, Uncle Frank staggered to his feet, swaying dangerously. “I have something to say!” he slurred, attempting to
climb onto Mr. Goldstein’s desk.
“Sir, please get down from there!” Mr. Goldstein pleaded, trying to protect his papers from Frank’s unsteady feet.
Frank’s foot slipped, and he went careening backwards into a towering bookshelf. Laura watched in slow–motion horror as the shelf teetered, then toppled, sending a cascade of legal texts raining down on the warring family members.
Just as Laura thought things couldn’t get any worse, the door burst open. Two burly security guards rushed in, followed closely by a pair of police officers.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” one of the officers demanded, surveying the scene of destruction.
Mr. Goldstein, his toupee hanging askew, stumbled towards the officers. “Thank goodness you’re here,” he gasped, “I want them all removed, Now!”
Laura found herself being herded out of the room along with the rest of her family. As they were escorted through the building, she could feel the stares of the other office workers, some gawking openly, others trying to hide their amusement.
Outside on the sidewalk, the family began to disperse, many still grumbling and shooting accusatory glances at one another. Laura stood next to Jen, feeling shell–shocked.
“Well,” Jen said after a moment, “I guess we can scratch “lawyer off the list of family–friendly career options.”
Laura let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “I can’t believe that just happened. Any of it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY–SEVEN ichind Closed Doors
“Including your surprise windfall?” Jen nudged her sister. “That’s pretty amazing, Laura.”
Laura nodded, still trying to process everything. “Yeah, I guess it is. I just wish it hadn’t come with all this drama.”
As they walked back to their hotel, Laura’s phone began to buzz incessantly. She glanced at the screen to see a barrage of messages and missed calls from various family members.
“I think I’m suddenly very popular,” she sighed, showing the phone to Jen.
Jen rolled her eyes. “I bet. Want me to run interference?
Laura shook her head. “No, I should probably deal with this myself. But maybe after a very large drink.”
Back in their botel room, Laura spent the next few hours fielding calls. Some relatives, like Aunt Mildred, were genuinely happy for her. Others, like Cousin Steve, seemed to be fishing for loans or handouts. And a few, like Uncle George, were openly hostile about the ” undaimess” of it all.
By the time evening rolled around, Laura felt emotionally drained. She flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling “You okay?” Jen asked, looking up from her book.
Laura sighed. “Yeah, just… overwhelmed. I never expected any of this when we decided to come to the funeral.” Jen snorted. “No kidding. It’s been like a soap opera, but with worse acting and more property damage.”
Laura’s phone buzzed again, and she groaned. Without even looking at it, she reached over and switched it off. “That’s it,” she declared. “I’m done for today. The rest of the family can wait until tomorrow to yell at me or beg for money”
Jen grinned. “That’s the spirit. Now, how about we order some room service and find a terrible movie to watch? I think we’ve earned it.”
Laura was rummaging through her suitcase, trying to decide what to wear for her last day in Phoenix, when her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket, expecting another message from one of her disgruntled relatives. Instead, she saw a name she hadn’t thought about in years: Jacob Anderson.
“Huh,” she muttered, opening the message.
“Hey Laura! Heard you were in town. Want to grab coffee and catch up? – Jake”
Laura stared at the screen, memories of her awkward middle school days flooding back. Jacob had been one of the few bright spots during that time a goofy, kind–hearted kid who’d always made her laugh.
“Who’s that?” Jen asked, peering over her shoulder.
Laura quickly tilted the phone away. “Just an old friend from middle school. Jacob Anderson. Remember him?
Jen’s eyebrows shot up. “The kid with the braces and the Star Wars obsession? Didn’t he have a massive crush on you?”
“What? No, he didn’t,” Laura protested, feeling her cheeks warm.
“Uh–huh,” Jen smirked. “So, are you going to meet him?”
Laura hesitated. She’d been planning to spend the day helping her parents around the house before leaving tomorrow. But the thought of reliving old memories was tempting
“You know what? Why not,” she decided, typing out a quick reply.
As she hit send, their mother’s voice floated up from downstairs. “Laura, honey? Could you run to the store for me? I need a few things
for dinner.”
Laura glanced at Jen,
en, who waved her off. “Go on, I’ll cover for you with Mom and Dad. Have fun on your date!”
“It’s not a date!” Laura hissed, but Jen just winked and sauntered out of the room.
Shaking her head, Laura grabbed her purse and headed downstairs. She’d do the grocery run first, then figure out what to wear for her not–date with Jacob
The next morning, Laura stood on the front porch, feeling oddly nervous. She smoothed down her sundress for the tenth time, wondering if she’d overdressed.
A sleek red sports car pulled up to the curb, and Laura’s jaw dropped. Jacob Anderson stepped out, looking nothing like the gangly teenager she remembered. He was tall, tanned, and undeniably handsome in a casual button–down and jeans.
