Page 13 of A Brilliant Spring

“I am Mr. Durphy, the lead lawyer on this case. I see we have a few extra people here for the reading of Harold Wallace Black’s will.” His voice is gruff, but shaky, as though his vocal cords want to collapse from exhaustion. “I need to ensure that the main two people present that are involved in the will are comfortable with the extra people witnessing the contents, for the record.” He looks at my mother and then me over his glasses. My mother nods, giving a weak “yes.”

“Yes,” I say in a clear, loud voice. Mr. Durphy gives a quick nod as he flips open the file folder in front of him. The other two lawyers follow suit, the younger one making a note of our confirmation of extra people in the room. Mr. Durphy adjusts the glasses on his hooked nose and clears his throat again.

“The last will and testament of: Harold Wallace Black. I, Harold Wallace Black, of Toronto, Ontario, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare that this document is my last will and testament…” He drones on and I drown him out for the next few minutes as he gets through all the legal mumbo jumbo, which literally means nothing to me. Hell, being here and inheriting something literally means nothing to me.

“…Article 3. I hereby give all personal property, including the houses and contents within, to my wife, Collette Liana (Morgen) Black. These properties include our investment properties in Chatham, Ontario, and our penthouse in Toronto, Ontario, on Richmond Street. My RRSPs and joint chequing and savings accounts will remain with Collette Liana (Morgen) Black. All vehicles will be sold, and the money returned to the savings account for Collette.”

My mother lets out a sob, and Riley reaches across the table to pluck a tissue out of the box and passes it to her. My mother’s hand grasps the tissue with one hand as the other hand braces around Riley’s forearm, her eyes full of thanks. A cold sweat breaks out over me as I watch and listen to my mother cry. Part of me has a bubble waiting to burst with giggles at the ridiculous scene unfolding, but another part aches for her. I didn’t realize my mother actually cared. I mean, they must have loved each other at one point in their lives. I see the pictures from their wedding day and they certainly looked in love, and you can’t fake that kind of lightness in the eyes. But I’d only ever seen unhappy parents, who spent time together only when it was convenient for pictures and appearances.

Harold was always gone, doing who knows what, with who knows who, but claimed he was always working. Which, he must have been telling the truth at some point, because for all my father lacked, his work ethic certainly didn’t. He did build a successful media empire, one which I am doomed to drown under in the shadow of his legacy — if I even inherit the damn company. Collette, on the other hand, was always sloshed, always a bottle of merlot deep by 11 AM, and with a new “pool boy” who was missing the pool.

“And to my daughter, Elissa Beatrice Black, I hereby hand over the Black & Wells Publishing and Press company and all its assets, along with the Black & Wells Tower property deeds…”

My heart fails to beat, my lungs fail to breathe. What did Mr. Durphy just say? My cheeks tingle as the blood drains from my face, leaving me cold and gasping for air. I can’t hear Mr. Durphy speaking anymore, he sounds like an adult in a Peanuts cartoon. I get the company? Me?

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt Mr. Durphy, “Did I hear that correctly?”

“S-s-sorry? Hear what correctly?” he asks haltingly.

“That I’m to inherit the company? All of it?”

Mr. Durphy adjusts the glasses on his face again, looks over the last part he read and nods his head. “Yes, I believe that you are inheriting everything to do with the company as per this wording.”

“That would make me CEO?”

Mr. Durphy clears his throat. “Well, I suppose so. Not quite officially, but you’d be the major shareholder and chairperson of the board. The board members would have to vote you in to make it official.” I’m floored. If I wasn’t sitting down already, I would have crashed to the floor. Seriously.

“I…I don’t understand. I just get the company?”

“The company, the building, and the condo you’re currently residing in. It’s all yours.”

“Just like that?” I’m not quite convinced it’s that easy. There’s that stipulation that’s missing.

“Well, after you sign some papers, it’s yours. But yes, just like that.”

This has got to be a joke. I laugh out loud. My mother and Riley look at me with bewildered eyes. I don’t even turn to see how Brandt is staring at me.

“No other stipulations? No clauses? Nothing?” Mr. Durphy’s face twists in…disgust? Confusion? I don’t know. But he shakes his head and remains silent. I feel Brandt tense beside me, and his hand grows rigid in mine, cold even. But I can’t focus on him. I can only focus on the fact that everything is mine, even when it wasn’t supposed to be. Ha! What sick twist of fate is this?

“Is this the most updated version of the will? When was it dated?” A deep, tense voice booms beside me, making the hair on my arms stand. My head darts to face Brandt and he’s sitting like a statue, trying to keep measured breaths, his jaw ticking as he waits for a response. The good-looking lawyer is the one to flip through the pages and find the answer.

“It looks here to be signed and dated back in 2021. So, two years prior to his death, and this is the only will we have that is recent and notarized.” Brandt’s hand jerks out of my grasp and tightens into a fist in his lap. His eyes harden and it feels like the room has dropped thirty degrees. I reach out and place my hand on his and he pulls away, and I feel like I’ve been slapped. I shift my attention away, back to the lawyers, and try to finish listening to the rest of the will. Something just shifted between us, and it’s making it really hard to focus on the rest of this meeting.

Chapter

Thirteen

Elissa

We’re all standing on the sidewalk outside the lawyers’ building; my mother is standing off to the side texting her driver to come around to the front of the building.

“Did you want to go for lunch, Elissa?” my mother asks me. “Riley and Brandt are welcome to join as well.” Riley’s eyes light up at the mere mention of food, but Brandt still looks cold and distant.

“Sure, Mother,” I say. I look at Brandt and he’s rigid, busy messaging someone on his phone.

“Sorry,” he says, not looking away from his phone. “But I have another meeting I need to get to.” He slides his phone in his jacket pocket and takes a deep breath, the exhale fogging in the air. I step toward him, my heel squishing on the slushy sidewalk as his gloved hand raises up in the air to hail a cab. Stepping into his open chest, I wrap my arms around him and he’s tense. Every muscle in his body is unmoving and I can feel the quickening of his heart pounding in his chest. His one arm slinks lazily around my waist. I tilt my head up to reach his, pressing a kiss to his mouth, but his lips don’t move. My heart sinks in my chest, and a hot, sickening surge of anxiety courses through me.

Brandt steps around me when the car approaches. Without another word or look, he gets in, closes the door, and the car pulls away, leaving me standing there, stunned.

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