Page 3 of Tinsel & Tools
“Norman Glynn’s law office,” a cheerful receptionist answered.
“Hi, this is Gavin Price. Mr. Glynn just left me a voicemail.”
“One moment please.”
After a brief moment of hold music, the same voice from the message came across the line. “Mr. Price, thank you for returning my call. I was reaching out regarding your grandfather’s estate.”
I blinked. “Grandfather? You must have the wrong number. My grandparents have been gone for years.”
“Are you not Harold Price’s grandson?”
At the mention of my father’s dad, it dawned on me. He meant the man my dad had cut off all contact with for abandoning his wife and kid decades ago.
“Oh,” I replied finally. “Him.”
“I understand there was an estrangement within the family,” Mr. Glynn continued, “but that didn’t keep him from naming your father as his heir, and in the case of his death any children he had would inherit the estate. From what I’ve gathered, your father passed away a few months ago, and you’re an only child, correct?”
“Uh, yeah.” I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around what was happening.
He rattled off some details about Harold’s death I wasn’t all that interested in, then began listing what I was inheriting. “The estate isn’t huge, but it does include a bed and breakfast in Brookhaven, New Hampshire, and a life insurance policy.”
“A bed and breakfast? That’s sort of a big deal. I don’t know anything about running a business like that.”
“It’s a small property. Only eight bedrooms. Plus, your grandfather had an employee, Jane Ross, helping him with the place. She’ll be able to show you the ropes once the inn is officially yours.”
“It still seems like a lot of responsibility,” I hedged, but maybe it’d be nice to own a place that could bring in some additional income.
The attorney chuckled lightly. “Harold seemed to enjoy it.”
That didn’t mean much to me. I didn’t know anything about Harold Price and whether we had similar likes and dislikes, but I was interested enough in the B&B to at least get some more information.
“Okay. So how does this all work? My parents had a living trust that made things pretty simple when they passed. Is it the same with a will?”
“Not quite,” he replied. “Because it’s a will, everything has to go through probate. The process usually takes about six months, but since you’re the only heir, we don’t anticipate any complications.”
“Six months?” I repeated. “Is there anything I need to do while we wait?”
As he started to go over the details, I grabbed a piece of paper from my desk and scribbled a few notes.
“Do you have any other questions?” he asked once he finished explaining things.
“Just one. What’s going to happen with the B&B in the meantime?”
“Mrs. Ross will continue taking care of the day-to-day operations until we get everything sorted with probate.”
A part of me felt as though I should ask more about my grandfather, but it was difficult to muster up any concern or curiosity for a man my dad deemed a ‘no good, cheating bastard’. Instead, I wrote down Mr. Glynn’s number, then ended our call. My head was spinning as I set my phone down, and I was still staring at my notes when Allie came out of her room.
“Everything good?” she asked as she passed me on her way to the kitchen.
“My grandfather died.”
She cocked her head to the side. “I thought you said your grandparents passed when you were a kid?”
I nodded. “My mom’s parents did. This is my dad’s father. My dad went no contact with him after he cheated on my grandma. She divorced him when my dad was sixteen, and she died of cancer a few years later. Dad never forgave his father for all the pain he caused.”
“Yikes,” Allie muttered. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah. Never would have guessed my grandfather would put any of us in his will.”
