Becca tapped her fingers on her leg. A nervous habit she had picked up from her mother. The air in the room was silent as she reread the words on the page. In order to inherit the house and all it’s belongings, she must reside for no less than 1 month.
She remembered the house from her childhood, damp and dusty. But she also remembered it to be in decent condition and quite large. She could sell the house and come into a substantial amount of money.
“Is it still the same as it used to be?” she asked, thinking of the china cabinet and crystal chandeliers.
The attorney nodded his little head. “I believe so. I visited her several times a year and once a week recently, up until her death, and she didn’t change a thing that whole time.”
Always the impulsive type and thinking of that mounting student loan debt, she blurted, “I’ll do it.”
“Great,” the attorney, with his big round glasses, peered from behind his desk. “I’ll just need you to sign here, and here.” He pointed to each page and although she knew she should read a contract before signing, she thought of the money to be made. Her mind swirled with the memories of Aunt Jo. She remembered dancing with her in the middle of the giant entryway as Becca entered to stay the weekend. They would spin in circles and sing silly songs about the upcoming events, we are gonna make the bestest cookies with the mostest frosting and the messiest sprinkles, in whatever tune, or not-tune, that they serenaded out of their mouths. The chandelier sparkling from the light entering in the wide open door and the floor to ceiling windows that surrounded it making her feel like a princess with her own castle.
“This is everything you need to know,” the attorney spoke, pulling her from her thoughts. He handed her a case. It was wooden. Rounded on top, with a leather handle. She turned it around in her hands to look it over. There were faded red and purple flowers and what appeared to be a map in the background.