“I HAD NO IDEA SHE WOULDhave a will,” Mason whispered to Crew as they walked through the lawyer’s office. He nodded to a few people as they walked, all dressed in business suits and looking like they were heading to important meetings. Mason tugged at his collar. His favorite flannel shirts had collars, but he always left the button undone and he almost never wore a tie. Also known as a choking hazard, he thought wryly to himself.
This whole funeral and reception had felt like a farce. Aimee had almost no friends left at her childhood home, but Mama had made sure the church had been packed. Afterwards, she hosted a luncheon dressed in her best black dress, her hair professionally styled and an unused handkerchief in her hand to signal her mourning.
More and more, Mason was coming to understand why Aimee had run off. After having a taste of his own freedom, his eyes were beginning to open to the prison his younger sister must have felt when she was growing up.
This morning his mother had redone his tie three times before they had been allowed to leave the house and it had irked Mason more than it should have. He had never really noticed when they were younger how much she was constantly...fixing them. Her words were often disguised as being helpful, and being the laid back guy he was, he had taken it all in stride as a parent loving their child enough to help.
Now he was seeing things differently. Since arriving home, he had been told his hair was too long. The beard needed to go. He was eating too much. Didn’t they ever see the sun on that coastline? His skin was too pale. He didn’t eat enough. His clothes were too casual.
Mason had tried to be understanding, but the more she had nitpicked on him, the more he had had trouble controlling himself. Crew had been smart enough to book a hotel. Apparently, he had caught on long before Mason that home wasn’t the most uplifting place to be.
“I wish you would have shaved before we came,” Mama murmured as they arrived at the lawyer’s door.
Before Mason could reply, she continued.
“How unprofessional. Who brings their child to work?” Mama sniffed and stuck her chin in the air.
“Enough, Patricia,” Mason’s dad scolded under his breath. “People can hear you.”
Mason’s mom frowned, but didn’t argue.
Small mercies,Mason thought, then felt bad for his impatience. His mother was doing the best she could. Her daughter leaving home and refusing to have any contact couldn’t have been easy. A little compassion could go a long way right now.
He glanced sideways, noting the secretary his mother had been complaining about. She held a small girl on her lap. The child couldn’t have been more than one or two years old. Her hair was dark and curled slightly at the edges. While Mason was watching, bright caramel colored eyes looked up to meet his.
Mason almost jerked back as a jolt of something hit him in the chest. He rubbed his sternum, unsure what was coming over him. He had no experience with little kids and had never been particularly drawn to them. They were fine and he hoped to be a father someday, but as a single man in his upper twenties, he hadn’t found much of a need to spend time with any.
But there was something about the girl that tugged on his heart, not to mention...she looked slightly familiar.
Mason shook his head and turned away. He’d never seen that secretary or her little girl. His mind must still be going crazy.
“Mr. Musk will see you now,” the secretary said, standing up and planting the little girl on her hip as she led the way to the other side of the room. With a wide, polite smile, the woman held the door open, allowing the whole family to enter.
Mason almost groaned when Crew gave the woman a wide smile. He elbowed his brother. “Now is not the time,” he scolded.
Crew gave his brother a look. “It’s always the right time to notice a beautiful woman,” he whispered back.
“She has a child,” Mason pointed out. “Which more than likely means she’s married.”
“Not always.”
“Whatever,” Mason conceded. “Just focus, huh? Mom needs us right now.”
Crew scowled, but nodded.
“Mr. Musk,” Timothy, Mason’s dad said loudly. He walked forward to shake the man’s hand. “We appreciate you doing this on such short notice.”
Mr. Musk, a man who appeared in his fifties, shook Timothy’s hand, but otherwise didn’t appear moved. “It’s my job,” he said bluntly. “And Aimee asked me for a special favor.”
“You saw her?” Mason blurted out without thinking.
Mr. Musk looked at Mason and his face softened. “She was friends with my youngest daughter. I heard from her now and again.”
Fresh pain squeezed Mason’s chest. He had always thought himself a conscientious person, one whose careful planning led to much more success than failures. But he was beginning to see how wrong he had been. Not only had his eyes been opened to his mother’s issues, but to his own. When his sister had left, he had tried to contact her a few times and she hadn’t responded. He’d tried to give her space, assuming she knew he would always be there to call on. She was an adult and she knew he loved her.
But maybe she hadn’t. She hadn’t turned to him when she was in trouble. She hadn’t contacted him even though she had settled not very far away. She hadn’t told him about the will or let him into any part of her adult life. Somehow...despite his best efforts, there had been a wedge between them and Mason had never seen it.
“Please have a seat,” Mr. Musk instructed, sitting himself in his leather chair.
He nodded to someone behind Mason and Mason turned. The secretary closed the office door, but stayed inside, the child resting on her hip. Once again, those eyes were on Mason and he felt slightly uncomfortable with the little girl’s attention. Turning around, Mason faced the desk, waiting for Mr. Musk to begin.
“Let me just say before we begin that Aimee was a lovely young woman and she will be dearly missed.” Mr. Musk cleared his throat and put on a pair of reading glasses, ignoring Mrs. Turley’s huffing.
It took a few minutes to get through the preliminary part of the will and Mason mostly tuned it out. It wasn’t as if Aimee could have had much in the way of worldly possessions. Being here, for him, was merely a formality.
“I only have two things I would like to bequeath,” Mr. Musk said. “To my brother Crew.”
Crew straightened, showing his intent to listen.
“I would like you to take all of my assets and liquidate them as best you can, donating the money to charity.”
Crew nodded immediately.
Mason joined him. It was a nice request. He was glad to see that Aimee wanted to help others.
“And to my oldest brother, Mason.”
Mason jerked his head toward the front. He hadn’t been expecting this.
“Even though you tend to favor Mother, needing to be in complete control—”
“Well, really!” Mama huffed.
“Patricia,” Papa warned.
“She had no right to say that in her will, of all things,” Mama argued.
“Mrs. Turley,” Mr. Musk said plainly. “If you cannot quiet down, I’ll have you removed.”
The little girl began to whimper and Mason wondered why the secretary didn’t just take her out. It was apparent the child didn’t like it in here. Heck, he didn’t like it in here!
Mr. Musk cleared his throat and went back to the will. “Even though you tend to favor Mother, needing to be in complete control, you’ve always been kind. I feel that my most valued possession would be best kept in your hands because you have the potential to provide her with the most solid foundation.”
Mason leaned forward. “Her?” He had to have heard wrong. Did Aimee have a pet?
Mr. Musk tilted his head toward the door. “Mason, please meet Layla, your niece.”
Slowly, Mason turned around. This had to be a dream. There was no way this was real.
“Layla, meet your Uncle Mason, and now, also your guardian.”