Page 5 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow
Ms. Jimenez clears her throat.
Gail straightens. “Sam needs to leave. Her part is done—”
“Her grandfather required that she stay until the end.”
“It’s her mother,” Gail says.
“If it’s an emergency, we can postpone this and reconvene tomorrow.”
“How much longer?” I say.
She flips through her pages. “Ten minutes?”
I nod, even as I simmer. The lawyer moves on to the disposition of property, and if some desperate corner of my soul hoped for a scrap, it is disappointed. The house—probably worth a couple of million—will be divided into thirds, one going to my uncle, one to Gail, and one to Caleb. That’s another reason why I’m here. If my cousin was entitled to a share, I would have been, too.
Gail reaches to squeeze my hand, her look promising me half of hers. I won’t take it. I can’t. She’s thirty-six, recently divorced, andconsidering in vitro fertilization for the baby she’s always wanted. I won’t steal that dream from her.
I still smile back. What matters is that the will is almost done. Mom’s last “excellent” day, where I truly had my mother back, was two months ago.
My foot starts tapping. Gail gently touches my knee, and I grimace an apology.
“And now we come to what I suspect you’ve all been waiting for.”
The end? Yep, definitely waiting for that.
“The dispensation of the Paynes Hollow property.”
I go still. Shit. I’d forgotten about that. Willfully forgotten.
As the founding family, my ancestors had taken the best land and passed it down intact from oldest son to oldest son. My grandfather owned over three hundred acres of prime land stretching along the coast of Lake Ontario.
I haven’t set foot on that land in fourteen years.
“I am supposed to share this.” The lawyer lifts a piece of paper and adjusts her reading glasses. “During Mr. Payne’s recent illness, he received an offer from a development firm.”
My gut clenches as I envision my childhood summer paradise destroyed for high-end condos. Only it’s not a paradise anymore, and it’s certainly not mine.
“Mr. Payne wished for me to read the offer, which is valid for his heirs.”
I check my watch. Then I tuck my phone under the table to text Vickie.
“That offer is…” Ms. Jimenez pauses. “Ten million dollars.”
Aunt Ellen squeaks. Caleb fist-pumps, as if we’re at a damn sports game.
Gail has gone pale.
Ten million dollars?
That’s a joke. It must be.
No, actually, it makes sense. Three hundred acres. Forget condos, that could be a full-on subdivision. A hundred lakefront lots and more within a short walk of the water.
Ten million is not outrageous at all.
“It’s divided the same as the house property, right?” Uncle Mark says. “Three ways. Me, Gail, and Caleb?”
I grin at Gail. I’m thrilled for her, but I also must admit to the rising hope in my heart. Even after taxes, she’d have two million. A sliver of that would solve all my problems, and she’d barely notice the loss.
