appointment was set for ten a.m., and she was nervous. This could determine what I do with the rest of my life, she thought as she applied her makeup with a cup of coffee sitting beside her on the bathroom countertop. Her hands shook as she thought about the next few hours. She tried to focus on her to-do list for the next few days. She certainly had to buy a car, needing her own set of wheels. I’ll look online later for a good used car. At least after the reading of the will, I’ll know what I can afford.
Attorney Lewis’s office was on Calhoun Street in a stately Georgian-style red brick building. The cornerstone dated the structure to 1790. Abby, who loved old architecture, nodded with appreciation as she walked up the granite steps to the front door with a Palladian window above it. She entered and took the marble staircase to the second floor. Attorney Lewis’s lavish office was the first door on the left at the top of the stairs. The receptionist, Adrianne, acknowledged Abby, asked her to take a seat, then disappeared through a door behind her desk. As Abby sat in the ornate waiting area, she took notice of the other people sitting there, too. She didn’t recognize any of them.
The large mahogany double doors opened, and Attorney Lewis stood there, inviting everyone that sat in the waiting room into his office at the same time. Her nerves kicked in again, making Abby’s stomach feel like a roller coaster doing steep climbs and free falls at an amusement park. After the usual pleasantries, Attorney Lewis introduced everyone, beginning with Abby. Following her were the presidents and CEOs of the Art Institute of Charleston, the Historic Charleston Foundation, and Charleston Animal Society, and the owner of At Your Service natural foods store. A lightheadedness came over Abby as she took a sip of water while they sat at the conference table with Attorney Lewis across from the five of them. Whatever was coming next probably wasn’t in Abby’s best interest. Since her mother never made it to the attorney’s office to change the will before she died, Abby didn’t know if Charlotte had even called Attorney Lewis to tell him of her plan. With four other people sitting there with her, she was sure her fate was doomed.
“Okay, shall we begin?” Attorney Lewis glanced at everyone, waiting for an affirmative nod. He informed them that Charlotte had left ten million dollars each to the art institute and the historic foundation. The animal society would receive five million dollars, and the owner of the natural foods store would receive two million dollars. Abby’s trust fund was frozen until she turned forty, at which time she would inherit the remainder of her mother’s estate. For the time being, the house on South Battery was hers, free and clear but with one stipulation. She was never allowed to sell the home. It could only be passed down to future generations of the Melrose family. With the will read, the four others celebrated, and each signed the necessary paperwork and left. Sitting alone with Attorney Lewis, Abby was stunned with disbelief.
“May I read the will myself?” she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Of course you may,” he said, sliding a copy across the conference table.
Abby read it twice, slowly and carefully. “You never got a call from her to say she was coming in to change her will?”
“No, Abigail. I’m sorry, but I never received that call. The current will is the last version I have on record. She never asked me to amend it.”
“How could she do this to me? I’m her only child. Do you have the slightest idea what the property taxes are on that mansion, let alone the general upkeep and flood insurance costs? I can’t ever sell it, and I have to wait thirteen years before I can touch my trust fund. She never earned a penny of that fortune. It was all my dad’s genius and hard work that made her rich. That bitch ! I can’t believe she would be this vindictive, this
Attorney Lewis’s office was on Calhoun Street in a stately Georgian-style red brick building. The cornerstone dated the structure to 1790. Abby, who loved old architecture, nodded with appreciation as she walked up the granite steps to the front door with a Palladian window above it. She entered and took the marble staircase to the second floor. Attorney Lewis’s lavish office was the first door on the left at the top of the stairs. The receptionist, Adrianne, acknowledged Abby, asked her to take a seat, then disappeared through a door behind her desk. As Abby sat in the ornate waiting area, she took notice of the other people sitting there, too. She didn’t recognize any of them.
The large mahogany double doors opened, and Attorney Lewis stood there, inviting everyone that sat in the waiting room into his office at the same time. Her nerves kicked in again, making Abby’s stomach feel like a roller coaster doing steep climbs and free falls at an amusement park. After the usual pleasantries, Attorney Lewis introduced everyone, beginning with Abby. Following her were the presidents and CEOs of the Art Institute of Charleston, the Historic Charleston Foundation, and Charleston Animal Society, and the owner of At Your Service natural foods store. A lightheadedness came over Abby as she took a sip of water while they sat at the conference table with Attorney Lewis across from the five of them. Whatever was coming next probably wasn’t in Abby’s best interest. Since her mother never made it to the attorney’s office to change the will before she died, Abby didn’t know if Charlotte had even called Attorney Lewis to tell him of her plan. With four other people sitting there with her, she was sure her fate was doomed.
“Okay, shall we begin?” Attorney Lewis glanced at everyone, waiting for an affirmative nod. He informed them that Charlotte had left ten million dollars each to the art institute and the historic foundation. The animal society would receive five million dollars, and the owner of the natural foods store would receive two million dollars. Abby’s trust fund was frozen until she turned forty, at which time she would inherit the remainder of her mother’s estate. For the time being, the house on South Battery was hers, free and clear but with one stipulation. She was never allowed to sell the home. It could only be passed down to future generations of the Melrose family. With the will read, the four others celebrated, and each signed the necessary paperwork and left. Sitting alone with Attorney Lewis, Abby was stunned with disbelief.
“May I read the will myself?” she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Of course you may,” he said, sliding a copy across the conference table.
Abby read it twice, slowly and carefully. “You never got a call from her to say she was coming in to change her will?”
“No, Abigail. I’m sorry, but I never received that call. The current will is the last version I have on record. She never asked me to amend it.”
“How could she do this to me? I’m her only child. Do you have the slightest idea what the property taxes are on that mansion, let alone the general upkeep and flood insurance costs? I can’t ever sell it, and I have to wait thirteen years before I can touch my trust fund. She never earned a penny of that fortune. It was all my dad’s genius and hard work that made her rich. That bitch ! I can’t believe she would be this vindictive, this
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