Their voices were low, the discussion not meant for anyone beyond the judge, lawyers, and affected parties to hear. Bertha’s lawyer was quite animated as he spoke, and Beau repeatedly gave him a look of disdain. It didn’t take long for them to present the initial evidence, and then the judge was telling them he would allow the claim and giving them a date for another hearing to present their evidence. Both Beau and Rain came away looking displeased, while Bertha and her lawyer were all smiles. That didn’t bode well.
“I’m going to have to fight her in court instead of it just being tossed out,” Rain told me.
“I’m sorry, Rain. I told you this might happen. We just have to make sure we have all our ducks in a row. We’ve got thirty days and at least we got the judge to sign on to you maintaining your residence at the house until it’s settled. It’s your property to do with as you please for now, hopefully forever. We’re going to fight this,” Beau told her.
“OK.”
“Call my office and make an appointment to sit down with me in the next few days. Bring Jon. I want to get right on top of this now that we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“I will.”
He gave her a quick pat on the shoulder and walked away, leaving the two of us standing by the back bench. We followed him out and made our way down the hallway as Rain began to fill me in on what I had not been able to hear.
“She’s evil, Jon. She all but called me a flake and a whore. She even tried to have me removed from the house until this is resolved, but the judge denied the request when Beau put up a fight, pointing out that I was the executor of the property and had every right to be in it until the estate was fully resolved. She was so angry. You could see it on her face.”
“Are you sure it’s worth all this, Rain? I mean, are you even planning on staying here, or are you going back to LA?”
“I don’t want to lose the property. My grandparents worked hard to keep it, and I feel like I should too.”
I noted that she hadn’t really answered my whole question, but I let it go at that, instead addressing what she had said.
“She wouldn’t want you to keep it just because you feel like you have to. You were never completely happy here, not without your folks. She knew that. She’d want you to do what would make you happiest.”
“Then why leave it to me?”
“Maybe so you could sell it if you needed to. That property is worth quite a bit of money.”
“No. I don’t think so. It’s too much of it, and it’s in a town that doesn’t have a high property value. There’s no industry here, so people aren’t exactly clamoring to get a place.”
“You’re right, but there’s timber on the property that can be cut down and sold off. Then it can be broken down and sold off in smaller lots. A rural subdivision would bring in people who work in Moseley but want to live a little more off the grid in the country. I’d bet good money that your Aunt Bertha knows that and would do exactly that with it rather than keeping it to give to any of your cousins.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Yes. I do think so.”
“I would never do that. I don’t know where I want to live. Things are bad in Los Angeles, but I left this place for a reason. Still, it’s home, and I like the idea of having it to come back to when I need a break from the hustle and bustle. Plus, I have so many memories here. Good memories, not only of Grandma, but of Mom and Dad when I was young. I can remember Dad pushing me on that old tire swing that still hangs from the big oak tree out back and splashing around in the spring that runs along the backside of the east meadow with Mom.”
“Memories are always good.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully and looked at me. “How about you, Jon? Do you have any good memories of this place? How’s your dad? I haven’t heard you mention him.”
“You know, it’s been a long road back for us. He had a hard time accepting certain things about me, and he turned me away when I needed him. We’ve both had a lot of forgiving to do, but we’re good now. We aren’t on the phone in our curlers every night running down the local gossip, but we’re solid.”
“That’s good. Your father always loved you so much.”
I knew what she wasn’t saying. My father had been broken when I disappeared, just as she had. I was there one day and then I was gone and didn’t come back for years. My father had even gone to the police to file a missing person report initially but retracted it after I called him while all strung out, cursing him and demanding he send me money. It’s not one of my prouder moments, but you can’t run from your past. That was an unfortunate part of mine.