Monday morning and my alarm clock didn’t even wake me for once. I was already out of bed, dressed and sipping a coffee in my kitchen while scrolling the news on my iPad.
Today of all days I was intrigued, and curious as to how this day would unfold. I was dressed in a simple black pencil skirt and a white blouse, nylons with patent leather black pumps on. It’s a bit more conservative than i normally dress, but I’ve also never been to one of the high rises downtown to a lawyers office and wasn’t exactly sure how to dress. My mind was racing as to just exactly why I was written into my Uncle’s will. He was the older brother of my father, we would see him occasionally as I was growing up. I don’t know if my dad and him ever really got along or if it was one of those obligations to hang out with him just because he was family. He always gave me these creepy vibes, even when I was a young girl, then as a teenager his leering and comments he’d make to me when my parents were just out of ear shot were really nothing more than gross. He never crossed a line but he just was one of those guys who thought he had it all and was way to full of himself.
I made my way down to the law firm, and found myself seated along in a rather large conference room with some amazing views of the city. An elder gentleman came in, he kinda had this Sean Connery gentleman look about him.
He proceeded to tell me that my Uncle has left me $2 million dollars, not one but 2 with a lot of zeroes. My jaw dropped and I had no idea that he was this rich let alone that I was even a thought in his will. The lawyer, Mr. Braden, shared that there was a stipulation attached to this inheritance. He said he didn’t know what it was, but he slide one of those larger 8.5x11” yellow envelopes with a sealed clasp across the table to me. It was addressed to me.
I opened the envelope and began to read the letter and the more I read the more I felt a growing pit in my stomach. My uncle had created a naughty list and if I wanted the inheritance I had to complete the list within a six month timeframe or else the money was going to be donated to a chairty.
My eyes looked up at Mr. Braden, “you have to be fucking kidding me.” I said with a slight tone of disgust. “I’m afraid not.,” he replied. “This is what your uncle put in his will and if you want the money, this is what you need to do.”
With that I picked up the envelope off the table, stood up and as politely as I could, thanks Mr Braden and I exited the law firm.
——————
Once I got home, I kicked off shoes, cussed at my uncle to the sky, calling him all sorts of names. As I began to calm down a bit that’s when I heard the unMistakable sounds of water running.
“Oh no. Shit. Fuck” I said as I ran into the bathroom to find that the toilet fresh water had never turned off and the water had filled the bowl and was cascading down on to my bathroom floor. In a panic I grabbed the towels to stop the spread of water and went to shut the freshwater valve off that is behind the toilet and the valve snapped.
“Well fuck me.” Could this day get any worse? I think to myself.
I run back out to the kitchen and grab my phone and call an old family friend, an ex boyfriend in high school some 15 years ago who happened to be a plumber.
“Jon?” I say as you answer the phone, you can hear the frustration and panic in my voice. “I really need your help, my toliet is all fucked up and it’s leaking everywhere…any chance you can come right now? Please.”
Today of all days I was intrigued, and curious as to how this day would unfold. I was dressed in a simple black pencil skirt and a white blouse, nylons with patent leather black pumps on. It’s a bit more conservative than i normally dress, but I’ve also never been to one of the high rises downtown to a lawyers office and wasn’t exactly sure how to dress. My mind was racing as to just exactly why I was written into my Uncle’s will. He was the older brother of my father, we would see him occasionally as I was growing up. I don’t know if my dad and him ever really got along or if it was one of those obligations to hang out with him just because he was family. He always gave me these creepy vibes, even when I was a young girl, then as a teenager his leering and comments he’d make to me when my parents were just out of ear shot were really nothing more than gross. He never crossed a line but he just was one of those guys who thought he had it all and was way to full of himself.
I made my way down to the law firm, and found myself seated along in a rather large conference room with some amazing views of the city. An elder gentleman came in, he kinda had this Sean Connery gentleman look about him.
He proceeded to tell me that my Uncle has left me $2 million dollars, not one but 2 with a lot of zeroes. My jaw dropped and I had no idea that he was this rich let alone that I was even a thought in his will. The lawyer, Mr. Braden, shared that there was a stipulation attached to this inheritance. He said he didn’t know what it was, but he slide one of those larger 8.5x11” yellow envelopes with a sealed clasp across the table to me. It was addressed to me.
I opened the envelope and began to read the letter and the more I read the more I felt a growing pit in my stomach. My uncle had created a naughty list and if I wanted the inheritance I had to complete the list within a six month timeframe or else the money was going to be donated to a chairty.
My eyes looked up at Mr. Braden, “you have to be fucking kidding me.” I said with a slight tone of disgust. “I’m afraid not.,” he replied. “This is what your uncle put in his will and if you want the money, this is what you need to do.”
With that I picked up the envelope off the table, stood up and as politely as I could, thanks Mr Braden and I exited the law firm.
——————
Once I got home, I kicked off shoes, cussed at my uncle to the sky, calling him all sorts of names. As I began to calm down a bit that’s when I heard the unMistakable sounds of water running.
“Oh no. Shit. Fuck” I said as I ran into the bathroom to find that the toilet fresh water had never turned off and the water had filled the bowl and was cascading down on to my bathroom floor. In a panic I grabbed the towels to stop the spread of water and went to shut the freshwater valve off that is behind the toilet and the valve snapped.
“Well fuck me.” Could this day get any worse? I think to myself.
I run back out to the kitchen and grab my phone and call an old family friend, an ex boyfriend in high school some 15 years ago who happened to be a plumber.
“Jon?” I say as you answer the phone, you can hear the frustration and panic in my voice. “I really need your help, my toliet is all fucked up and it’s leaking everywhere…any chance you can come right now? Please.”