Page 52 of My One
“Then we’ll come back when we can take the little one to Disneyland.”
“You just want to go to Disney.” She chuckled.
“Maybe. It is the most magical place on Earth.”
“The Bahamas was better.”
I laughed. “Touché.”
Two hours later, we were pulling into Ms. Johnston’s garage at her building.
“Your dad drove all this way to his practice daily?”
I shrugged. “When we lived in Ventura, we were closer. I have no idea what he did since moving to Santa Barbara. Maybe he only worked a few days a week?”
“I would hate to drive all this way daily.”
“You’d get good audiobook time in.”
“True.”
Once we were up in Ms. Johnston’s office, we sat in the waiting room like we had in Slade’s office. This one was fancier with floor to ceiling windows and what looked to be expensive art on the wall. If I had to see one more attorney, I might lose my mind, and that just might be the case depending on what my father’s will said.
“Mr. Scott?” a lady with short brown hair said, coming from around a corner.
“Avery’s fine.” I stood.
She stuck out her hand. “I’m Andrea Johnston.”
We shook hands. “This is my wife, Nicole.”
“Pleasure.” She nodded her greeting. “Right this way.”
Nicole and I followed her into her corner office and sat in the chairs in front of her desk. “Again, I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” Ms. Johnston stated. “Your father’s office manager had a copy of his will and contacted me yesterday. It’s just tragic.”
I smiled tightly. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t know him that well, but this town is small, and he had a reputation for being one of the best plastic surgeons in California.”
I almost snorted at her comment. He might be the best at changing people’s appearances, but he wasn’t the best father. He never played catch with me. Never told me I played well. Never rewarded me when I hit a home run. It was always:“You can do better.” “You were dropping your shoulder. Keep it up and follow through with your swing.” “You can run faster than that.”Blah. Blah. Blah. I didn’t reply to Andrea because I wasn’t going to confirm or deny anything about that man.
“So,” Ms. Johnston continued as she grabbed a manila folder from the corner of her desk—just like Slade had done. “This is going to be short and to the point.”
I blinked, not understanding what that meant. How could it be short? They had a lot of property and money.
“Your father prepared his will fifteen years ago.”
“Okay …”
“He bequeathed everything to your mother.”
“But, she was in the accident, too,” Nicole reminded her.
“And that was why I called you. You’re next of kin, Avery. That means you’re the beneficiary now.”
“My mom had a will too,” I stated.
“Oh?” Ms. Johnston cocked her head to the side.
