Page 12 of Raising Love
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Our footsteps echoed as we made our way down the long, narrow corridor.
“And here we are,” Carla, the woman who greeted Ivy and me when we arrived, said as she gestured into the office. “Mr. Grant will be with you shortly. Can I get you two anything?”
I shook my head in response as I entered and took a seat.
“We’re fine,” Ivy said, trailing behind me. “Thank you.”
The last four days had been a blur—a literal lapse in time that seemed to happen completely out of my control. I hadn’t slept right since getting the news. Every time my phone rang after a certain hour, my heart would jolt in my chest.
Ivy sighed as she slumped in her chair beside me.
Neither one of us had been okay. I had a game the day after getting the news about Tyrell and Kendra. I played like shit, which was to be expected. Instead of my coach getting at me for my terrible performance on the court, the man just hugged me after the game in the locker room.
Everyone I knew, both professionally and personally, had been very understanding. And while the sympathy was appreciated, the only person I felt truly understood what I was going through was the woman sitting silently beside me, her shoulders slumped in her chair.
For the past four days, she and I had spoken on the phone for hours—sometimes saying nothing, just sitting in silence and listening to each other breathe. That simple sign of life had become a source of comfort for me.
I still couldn’t believe this had happened. My boy, Tyrell, gone. Just like that.
“Good morning,” a gentleman said behind us as he entered the office. “I’m Mr. Grant. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
Ivy and I both sat up in our seats.
We’d gotten a strange phone call the day before—first her, then me. It was from a woman who identified herself as Carla Carey, the same woman who walked us into the office. She’d called to ask for our availability to meet with Kendra and Tyrell’s estate lawyer.
I had no idea they even had an estate lawyer.
I was pressing my hands into the arms of the chair when Mr. Grant held up a hand. “Please, Mr. Vanguard, you don’t need to get up.”
The phone call had been to set up a meeting for the reading of Kendra and Tyrell’s last will and testament with Mr. Grant.
“Very nice to meet you two,” Mr. Grant said, extending his hand first to me, then to Ivy. We both shook it in turn. “I’m sorry we are meeting under these circumstances, but I’m happy you were able to meet me on such short notice. My condolences for your loss. Sincerely. I’ve known Kendra all her life, having also managed her parents’ estate. And Tyrell seemed like a great guy as well.”
“Thank you,” Ivy replied. “Kendra and Tyrell were great. The best.” She glanced at me briefly before turning back to Mr. Grant as he took a seat across from us at his desk. “I think I speak for both of us, though, when I say I have no idea why we are here.”
“Oh.” Mr. Grant wrinkled his bushy brows. “Did my assistant Carla not detail to you?—”
“Oh, no.” Ivy held up a hand. “She did. She explained that today’s meeting would be for the reading of our friends’ wills, but I’m not understanding why we are here and not their parents.”
“Yeah,” I concurred. “Although Ivy and I are like family to Kendra and Tyrell, we aren’t actual family.”
“The meeting with their parents occurred yesterday,” Mr. Grant informed.
That made me tilt my head slightly.
“This reading of the will and testament is specifically for you two,” he revealed. “Only you two.”
“Really?” Ivy quizzed.
“Yes,” Mr. Grant replied, his attention lowering to the filing folder he’d brought into the office.
The door opened a second later, and Carla stepped in holding a similar folder.
“As you know, this is Carla, my assistant,” Mr. Grant said. “She’ll be present during the reading and will handle document management.”
Ivy and I glanced at each other before focusing back on Mr. Grant.
