Unexpected Inheritance

By Lee Green

Hannah, an ordinary 50-something, receives a large inheritance.

 

This is her story.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Green
• Release date: Oct 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393896982

Book preview

Hannah, an ordinary 50-something, receives a large inheritance.

This is her story.

UNEXPECTED INHERITANCE

by

LEE GREEN

Copyright © 2018 Lee Green

Kindness is contagious. Pass it on.

Chapter 1

It was mid afternoon and I was sitting at my desk in the living room looking at online job ads, none of which sounded very appealing, when my cell phone rang.

I picked it up and said hello. A deep voice asked, Is this Hannah Patterson?

Yes.

This is Ridley Markham with Markham, Smithson, and Tamerlaine, Ms. Patterson. I'm an attorney calling about a matter related to a client.

My brain had a hard time switching gears from job hunting mode to whatever this was about. But when I did, my first thought was to wonder if it were a scam of some sort. The voice sounded authoritative and reasonable, though.

OK.

Ms. Patterson, would it be possible for me to schedule an appointment with you for tomorrow afternoon? You've been left an inheritance by one of my clients and I'd like to tell you about it in person. I'm in Massachusetts at the moment, but my secretary and I will be flying to Albuquerque in the morning. We'll be staying at the hotel in Old Town and I'll reserve a conference room there. We can meet with you at your convenience any time after 1:00.

An inheritance! What?! I felt my heart start to race. From who? How much? Are you sure you have the right person?

Yes, I'm sure. You had a classmate in junior high whose name was Tim Whitfield. Do you remember him?

Tim? Yes, but I haven't seen him since. He died?

"Yes, unfortunately. He developed a fast-growing cancer that couldn't be treated. He had made a lot of money over the years and didn't have a wife or any close family to leave it to. Tim remembered you as his first crush and was curious about what your life had been like. At his request, we hired an investigator, and after he read the report, Tim decided he wanted to leave you part of his estate.

As it turned out, his remaining time was very short, and he ended up making you his primary beneficiary. He left a very substantial estate. He did leave some money to distant relatives and some to charities, but easily four-fifths of the estate goes to you. And, as I said, it is a very substantial amount.

My heart started thumping as soon as he said the words primary beneficiary, and, by the time he got to very substantial amount, I was feeling extremely light-headed, but I managed to ask, How do I know this isn't a hoax?

I don't blame you for being skeptical, Ms. Patterson, coming out of the blue this way. How about if we hang up, and you look up my law firm's phone number, and call me back? When my secretary, Rose Trumball, answers, ask for me. That should put your mind at ease. Let me repeat. I am Ridley Markham with the law firm of Markham, Smithson, and Tamerlaine, and we are based in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. Do you have that?

I had been scribbling furiously as he talked. My hands were shaking so badly, I could barely make out what I wrote. Yes, I'll call right back, I said hastily and ended the call. I keyed the city and firm name into my computer and when it brought up the website, I found the number and punched it into my phone, double-checking to make sure I got it right.

A woman answered. Markham, Smithson, and Tamerlaine. Rose Trumball speaking. How may I help you?

Rose, this is Hannah Patterson. Would you connect me to Ridley Markham, please?

Certainly, Ms. Patterson. He's expecting your call.

So, Ms. Patterson, the now familiar deep voice said. Do you feel reassured that this is on the up-and-up?

As much as I can, I guess. It's really hard to believe such a far-fetched thing, and I'm afraid of getting my hopes up, but at least you do seem to be a real lawyer with a real law firm.

Everything I told you is true. You are the primary beneficiary of Tim Whitfield's estate. I'd rather wait and tell you the details when we meet tomorrow, but if you'd like, I can transfer some money into your checking account right away. I'll just need the routing number of your bank and your checking account number.

I thought for a minute. If this were a scam, would having my bank account information be dangerous? I couldn't think how, so I said, Yes! That would be great! Just a second. I brought up the information in my computer files and recited it to him. After he had repeated it back to me, I asked, How long do you think it'll take for the money to transfer?

I'll have my secretary do it immediately. Give it an hour.

OK. That's wonderful! Oh, what time will you get to the hotel tomorrow? I wanted to meet him as soon as possible.

I should be checked in by 1:00. Would you like to meet then? I'll tell the front desk to direct you to the conference room.

I'll definitely be there at 1:00. Good-bye and thank you very, very much for the good news.

Good-bye, Ms. Patterson. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow.

My heart was racing. I was so excited, I felt almost sick with anticipation. Was there really going to be money in my checking account? How much money was there altogether? It had to be at least a million dollars or the lawyer wouldn't have said it was a very substantial amount. And he wouldn't be flying all this way to talk to me. Maybe more than a million!

I could have stayed home and kept checking my bank account online until the money showed up, but I was too nervous to be still. I decided to go to the bank, instead. And, besides, if there really is money in my account, I want to get some cash out, so I can feel rich!

I hurried into the bedroom and grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants from the closet, and underwear and socks from the dresser. In the bathroom, I hung my shirt and pants on a hook on the door and set my underclothes on the counter. I opened the shower door and reached in to turn the water on. By the time I had taken off and folded my pajamas, the water was hot. I adjusted it slightly so I wouldn't get burned and stepped in, closing the door behind me.

I had been feeling pretty normal until then, but all of a sudden, it was like the news really hit me. I found myself staring at the shower wall without a thought in my head. When I remembered what I was supposed to be doing and picked up the shampoo bottle, my hand seemed to lose its gripping ability, and the bottle slipped out of my hand. Time slowed as I watched the progress of the bottle on its trajectory toward my foot. At the last millisecond, I realized my foot was about to get thumped and jumped back out of the way, which caused me to jam my back against the water faucets. Ow! That hurt! I rubbed my back, and waited for the pain to subside.

By being extra vigilant and going slower, I managed to get my hair and body washed and rinsed and dried off. But then, as I was using the blow-dryer on my short hair, I miscalculated the distance between the dryer and my head and smacked myself with it. Ouch! Dang! That really hurt! I rubbed my head and hoped I hadn't put a dent in my skull.

It had never occurred to me that receiving good news unexpectedly could be dangerous. Ha! That struck me as hilarious, and I started laughing. And I laughed. And I laughed. And my stomach started hurting. That was even funnier. I kept laughing until my face hurt and my stomach cramped. And then I stopped laughing and rubbed my face and my stomach and my head and my back. And I was tempted to laugh again, but I didn't think I could take the pain.

I started pulling on my clothes and tried to imagine telling Bob and my kids about the inheritance, but I couldn't seem to hold a thought more than a second or two before another took its place. And then two questions swam to the surface, displacing everything else: Am I really going to be rich? How much money is there? I tried to grasp what it would mean to be rich, but I had nothing to compare it to. I felt lost, like my reality had shifted.

I had a sudden impulse to lie down on the bed and curl up in a ball. When I did, I felt immediately better. I realized I was feeling threatened by the thought of being rich. What in the world is the matter with me? I just got some incredibly good news, and I'm afraid?! OK. It's just that it's so different from anything I've experienced before. It kind of rocks my world.

I suddenly realized that being poor had been a huge part of my identity. Now, if this was true, I'd have to change how I thought about myself. I think I had some romantic notion that being poor was somehow noble. How funny! What a silly idea! With that realization, my fear went away as quickly as it had come, and I leaped up from the bed, ready to dash to the bank. I glanced over at the clock and then had to look again. Only half an hour had gone by?

I got my socks and shoes and sat on the bed to put them on, and then realized I had been sitting there holding a sock by my upraised foot for several minutes, my mind a complete blank. When I bent over to tie my shoe laces, I realized I had zoned out again when I felt blood rushing to my head, but the laces were still untied.

Is there such a thing as intermittent catatonia? I was getting a little concerned about my wierd over-reaction to this news. I'll walk to the bank. Maybe the exercise will get me back to normal.

I finished tying my shoes, put my wallet and cell phone in my pants pockets and snagged my jacket from its hook by the front door. After locking the door and pulling on my gloves, I headed down the walkway to the stairs. I held on to the banister, being more careful than usual, since I didn't seem to be in control of my body... or my mind... at the moment.

All of a sudden, the cold, crisp air hit me, and I became aware of the outdoors. I stopped and looked up. It was a beautiful day. The sky was blue with just a few wispy clouds, and the light was bright for the time of year. It wasn't too breezy. In fact, it was pretty much absolutely perfect. I stood, feeling the fresh air on my face, breathing it into my lungs. I could feel the cold as it went down. Ummm. The day felt fantastic! I felt fantastic! I was so happy to be outdoors.

I looked out over the parking lot and the buildings surrounding the apartment complex. Our neighborhood is considered to be in a high crime area, but there hadn't been any trouble, aside from vehicles being broken into, in the year we had lived here. I didn't walk by myself at night, but I felt safe enough during the day.

I resumed my careful way down the stairs and then set off toward the bank. For the first block or two, I reveled in the feeling of the air and the beauty of the sky.

But then the thought of the money intruded, bringing with it a strong feeling of anxiety, or if I was really honest with myself, abject terror, and for the opposite reason I was afraid a few minutes ago. What if this isn't real? I really, really want it to be real. I want to never, ever have to worry about money again. And, besides that, I just want to be rich. I want to have a lot of money. And I want to have enough to give a lot to my son, Geoff, and his wife, Gail, and my daughter, Lara, and her fiance, Abe, and my partner, Bob, and to my parents, and my brothers and their families. How excited they would be!

My pace quickened as my fear grew. What if this wasn't real, after all? Checking my account at the bank would be the test. If the money was in my account, the phone call was real; if it wasn't, I didn't even want to think how disappointed I would feel. Ever since I had heard the words: very substantial estate, I was hooked on the idea of being wealthy.

I started to pant and realized I was walking too fast, so I slowed my steps and my breathing and made myself focus on my surroundings, until I reached the bank.

When I pulled the door open, I was glad to see the empty lobby. I wouldn't have to wait in line. I went up to the counter, and the young, well-dressed woman teller asked how she could help me.

I said, Some money was supposed to be wired into my account, and I want to see if it's there yet. My voice sounded strange to my ears, as though it were coming from the bottom of a well. And I wasn't sure of the words I had just spoken; as soon as they were out of my mouth, I had forgotten them. I hoped they had made sense.

OK, if you'll just swipe your card, I'll pull up your account, she answered.

Oh, good, I did make sense!

I got my wallet out of my pocket and searched for the right card and then had a hard time getting it out with my fumbly fingers. My heart was pounding as I swiped the card. I could feel adrenaline-caused rushing feelings in my legs. I looked at the teller, silently begging her to hurry and tell me that the money was there.

It was a minute of agonizing suspense before I heard her say: Yes, there was a deposit just credited to your account. It looks like $7,500. Is that what you were expecting?

Wonderful! I was so relieved and so ecstatic, I felt light-headed. For a moment things went black, and I was afraid I would faint. I grabbed hold of the counter to keep myself from falling.

I heard the teller asking, Are you all right, ma'am?

I wasn't able to answer her until the blackness passed. Yes. I'm just so relieved the money is there! Can I get $500 in cash?

The teller said, Certainly. How would you like that? Twenties? Hundreds?

I think maybe three hundreds and the rest twenties.

As she counted the bills out of her cash drawer and then repeated the count out loud to me, I said over and over under my breath: Thank you, Jesus. Thank you.

The teller asked if there was anything else she could do for me today, and I said, No, thank you. This is fantastic! I stuffed the bills into my wallet and put the wallet back in my pocket. And then I felt like I needed to sit down for a minute, so I headed to the nearest chair.

Once I was sitting, I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart. I took several slow, deep breaths, not thinking about the money, but just trying to get my body back under control. What good will the money do me, if I die of a heart attack?

I managed to slow my heart to a reasonable rate. OK. Now, I know it's real. I can calm down. I'm going to have money. Enough money. I had such a feeling of relief. To know that it was real! I breathed slowly and told myself over and over: The money is real. The money is real.

I looked up and noticed the teller looking at me with concern, but then other customers came into the bank, and her attention was diverted.

I didn't even want to move for awhile. I wanted to immerse myself in the feelings of relief and joy. I felt like crying. I was rich! I felt like shouting to the world: I'm rich! But, instead, I sat there and closed my eyes again and felt the gratitude that was welling up inside me. Eventually, I started to feel more like my normal self, and then my mouth turned up, and I felt myself smiling. A huge smile that seemed to take up my whole face. I'm rich! I'm rich!

I didn't feel like I could wait patiently for Bob to get home from work. I wanted to tell him the good news! I went outside and got my cell phone and punched in his number. When he answered, I said, Hi, sweetie, how long until you're finished?

We just got done. It didn't take as long as I thought it would. About another twenty minutes to clean up, and we'll be leaving.

OK, well, stay where you are and I'll pick you up. You want to go out to eat? I asked.

Sure, baby, I'm always happy to go out to eat with you. Where do you want to go?

How about you think about where you'd like to eat, if you could eat anywhere you wanted, and it didn't matter how expensive it is? I said. I'll tell you why when I see you.

Well, how about bringing another shirt for me to change into? This one is pretty grubby. My pants aren't too bad, though. A clean shirt should be enough.

OK, I'll be there in about twenty-five or thirty minutes. Just wait for me out front, I said. Bye, sweetie.

Bye. I love you.

I love you, too.

I knew where Bob was working, because I had had to drive him there the Saturday before, when his helper, who usually picks him up, was off sick. Bob doesn't drive because of having had accidents in the past due to a form of ADHD that causes him to be slow in switching focus. Bob likes to say that he has initials after his name, too, like MD or PhD, only his are ADHD.

It was going to be so wonderful to get this windfall, especially since we hadn't earned much income recently. Bob had been painting apartments for a company that had gone out of business, and it had taken a couple of months before he found another job.

Meanwhile, I hadn't been bringing in an income, either, because I had resigned from my job after my employer told the staff he either had to cut all the employees' pay or let someone go. As the office manager, I had created procedures and hired and trained new staff and, in general, whipped the entire office into shape, and I had already been feeling that I wasn't really needed any more, so I had heard his statement as a sign that it was time for me to move on.

I had started looking for a new job, but hadn't found one yet. I was enjoying not working, but I needed to find a job soon. We were rapidly maxing out our credit cards. But, now, maybe I wouldn't need to work any more. Wouldn't that be incredible!

I pictured myself being able to pay off our credit cards and our old college loans. Before Bob and I had met, we had each gone back to college in our 40s, and we had been getting deferments and forbearances for years. The thought of being able to pay everything off made me really happy.

When I got back to the apartment, I grabbed my shoulder bag, transferred the contents of my pockets to the bag, and picked out a shirt for Bob, before I hurried to the car. Traffic was pretty heavy, but I still made it in one piece in less than half an hour, even though I drove on auto-pilot.

It's interesting to me how people can do that: Drive without paying any attention to the road or the cars on it, and yet get where they're going. Either there's a part of the mind that is sufficiently programmed to drive without conscious thought, or else, as I sometimes like to imagine, we just think it's our brain that controls and directs our actions, but it's really something outside the body, like a hidden puppet-master perhaps.

Chapter 2

When I got to the apartment complex, Bob was waiting outside, next to his two totes of painting equipment and a small ladder. I smiled at him, as he came to open the back door.

Hi, honey bear, I said.

Hi, sweetie. I'm glad to see you. After he had stowed his things in the back, he got in the front seat and started to tell me about his work day, like he always did, but I interrupted him before he had completed a sentence.

Bob, it doesn't matter about anything that happened today. You are never going to paint another apartment, unless you just really want to, for fun. Or, at least, I think that's probably true.

He looked at me blankly. What, why? What do you mean?

We're about to be wealthy; I think, very wealthy. Neither of us is ever going to have to work again. Really. I'm not joking.

What?! How did that happen? Did your rich uncle die and leave you a million bucks or something?

I think it must be more than that, I said. "And the person who died was someone I went to junior high with. I don't remember much about him except that he had a crush on me. His name was Tim Whitfield. He got super rich and left everything to me, or a lot of it, anyway.

A lawyer called me today. He's coming to Albuquerque tomorrow, flying in from Massachusetts. He's going to meet us at 1:00 to tell us the details. The suspense is killing me. But he had some money deposited in my checking account to prove it's not a hoax. And I went to the bank, and there was $7,500 in it. I got $500 out in cash.

I watched as Bob's mouth fell open, his eyes widened, and his eyebrows rose. A textbook expression of astonishment. It made me grin. I was enjoying his shock and amazement.

You're kidding! Seventy-five hundred dollars? How much is the inheritance? Did he tell you?

No. He just said that it's a very substantial amount. It must be over a million dollars. I don't think he would have used the words 'very substantial' if it weren't at least that much. If I remember right, he said that twice. It could be two or three million, or maybe more. I'm afraid to think higher than a million, though. I don't want to be disappointed. Is this unbelievable or what? I'm stunned! I wish I knew how much it is.

Wow! I can't even imagine it. Are you sure it's not a hoax? I mean, even with the money he put in your bank account, it could still be a hoax if it was a television show or something.

"No, I don't think so. I really do think it's real. The thing is, he told me the name of his law firm, and I hung up and looked it up online and called the phone number, and the secretary answered and connected me to him. So, it's definitely a real law firm. Well, I suppose it's still possible if it were an extremely elaborate hoax, but why would anybody do that? I mean, I'm just an average person. There's no reason for anybody to spend a lot of money to play a trick on me. I'm pretty sure it's real."

Rich! You're rich! I can go for that!

Yeah, me, too. I wish I didn't have to wait until tomorrow to find out what it is. But at least I know it's a big inheritance. I grinned at Bob. Isn't this incredible?

It sure is. Why did this guy leave you his money?

"I don't really understand it, but the lawyer said Tim didn't have any relatives. No, he said Tim didn't have any close relatives. I think he said something about Tim not having much time before he died to figure out who to leave it to. Or something