Page 14 of Grinch Girl

“Did you get the extra camera guys?” Sean asked, a worry line forming between his eyes.

“Yeah.” I sighed. Over the weekend we had the rather obvious realization that there was no way Sean could film all the dates going on simultaneously, even if we staggered the timing as much as possible. So Carol and I had recruited three other dudes, which hadn’t been easy since we couldn’t offer much payment. I’d be clearing out a lot of Greta’s beer inventory as thanks, that was for sure. “They’ll be coming by early on Wednesday to get a feel for the equipment.”

My phone chimed, announcing a new text. I expected my zillionth message today from Carol. But to my surprise, it was actually the lawyer handling Greta’s estate.Please come by my office at 1 today, Ms. Zielinski. There are some details I need to discuss with you regarding Mrs. Bradley’s final wishes.

Now? I’d been pestering him for months trying to figure out what was happening with Greta’s shop and he finally deigned to respond to me on the worst possible day? This morning I needed to prepare the shop for prime time and do a Geek Squad appointment to fix the printer at a plumbing office. There were still a dozen details I needed to tend to about the web series, all before I reported for a two p.m. waitressing shift at the Vienna resort restaurant.

But sure, let me drop everything and run to your office.

Lawyers.

*

“Sorry I’m late,”I called as I burst through the doors of Donald Schlender, Esq’s office, not sounding sorry at all. But the GeekSquad appointment had taken twice as long as I’d expected. Fixing the printer was easy, but the plumber had also asked me to take a look at his slow laptop while I was there, and that thing was an unholy mess of outdated software and virus vulnerability.

Mr. Schlender frowned and pointed to a chair in front of his desk. “Now that you’re here, I can describe the details to you both.”

Both?

Of courseBella was sitting in the other visitor chair. Suddenly, it all made sense. The lawyer couldn’t settle Greta’s estate until Bella was in town; all this time I’d been waiting on her. Well, that was a familiar feeling.

Bella was looking at me, blue eyes big and lips parted. But all she settled on was “Hey, Jane.”

I rolled my eyes, huffed, and slumped in the chair, glaring at the ceiling. I was almost grateful for the supreme irritation with both of them. Otherwise, I might be fighting back tears or the omnipresent Greta-lump in my throat.

Mr. Schlender picked up a piece of paper and looked at us over the rims of his glasses. “Mrs. Bradley had very clear and distinct wishes for her estate upon her death. The two of you are the main beneficiaries, although she bequeathed some specific jewelry and items in her home to her daughter, Angela.”

We both nodded dutifully. Bella’s hands twisted in her lap, and I wondered if she’d been over to Wontana to visit her mother yet. On her ultra-rare and ultra-brief visits to the area, she’d always stayed with Greta.

Mr. Schlender smiled at Bella. “To you, Miss Bradley, Greta has left her home in Falworth. I will give you all the paperwork, including the latest assessment, in case you choose to sell.” Bella nodded quickly, a tear spilling out of the corner of her eye. Wasshe staying at the house right now? I could barely make myself even drive by it, the old Victorian where we’d both grown up.

His smile faded into sympathy as he switched his gaze to me. “To you, Miss Zielinski, Greta had set aside a bank account.” I sighed, already knowing where this was headed. I saw Greta almost every single day. Fighting the illness had taken everything—including her savings. “But unfortunately, there wasn’t much in it at the time of her death.”

He sounded like he was making apologies for her, and I didn’t like it. “She needed the money for her doctor’s bills and to keep the shop afloat. No big deal. I don’t care.”

Bella whipped her head to me, forehead furrowed in confusion. “What? But—”

I really, really wanted to scream at her. Scream at her for not knowing exactly how sick Greta had been for so long and how much it had taken out of her. Scream at her for not helping Greta with her failing business. Scream at her for waltzing into town now with her sweet smile and a big bunch of money—both things that would have helped Greta six months ago.

But as infuriated as I was at Bella for not being there, I also suspected Greta hadn’t told her. Not about the struggling shop and not about the cancer, until it was inevitable. Protecting her granddaughter, giving Bella the life she dreamed of—that had been Greta’s raison d’être. She would not have wanted Bella to give up everything she’d worked so hard for to come back here.For what?I could almost hear her scoffing at me.To help me clean my shop? Give me my pills?

It had been a lot more than a little cleaning and pill distribution in the past year. But it didn’t matter. She hadn’t needed Bella. She’d had me.

“The last asset of note is Greta’s business. She owns the real estate, the building in the town center, free and clear. Thecurrent inventory as well. All of the associated licenses can be transferred.”

He paused, and I held my breath.It’s going to Bella,I warned myself. Greta’s life was that shop and Bella. Of course she would leave it to her.

But. But. But. I’d been helping her run it for more than five years now. I didn’t love the business, exactly, and it had never been my dream to own it, but the shop felt more like home to me than my own apartment. Plus, it was now a key part of my life improvement plan.

He sighed. “It’s complicated, but the gist of it is that she’s left the shop to both of you, fifty-fifty.” Next to me, Bella inhaled sharply and I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake. Greta deserved a good shake too.

Well played, Greta. From beyond the grave, you’re going to do the one thing you couldn’t do in life: make Bella and me talk again.There was no way we could figure this out without extensive conversation.

Or maybe…

I turned to Bella, cutting off Mr. Schlender discussing tax implications. “I’ll buy you out.”

She gaped at me. “What?”

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