Page 6 of Just My Ex

“To heck with it,” I whisper to myself and gather her up with all of her stuff. She prefers the fuzzy soft lining of her comforter to the quilt on my bed, so it’s all coming: top sheet, comforter, pillow, and all. I heft her close to me and carry her sleepy form to my room. Settling her in next to me, I tuck her comforter in around her.

I breathe in the scent of her hair. There.That’s better, I say to myself. Now I can sleep.

But I don’t. Because Raymond has been in my house. And left a gross meatloaf in my fridge with a weird note for my daughter. It’s especially bad because nothing can be seen on the doorbell cam footage, which Henry purchased within a day of moving into this house.

I’m not surprised Raymond figured out a way to go undetected by the doorbell cam.

“Grandpa, I love you and all,” I whisper in the dark, moving Navie’s hair out of her face. “But why did you have to die? And why did you leave your money to me?” I sigh. “Not that I’m ungrateful. But still. It’s proving a little inconvenient.”

I was gobsmacked when Grandpa’s attorney said he’d left everything to me. It was a real shock and awe moment.

Why me?

What about Raymond and Nancy? And my cousin, Marley? It’s been six months since Grandpa’s death, and word is, I’ll receive the money once probate ends and Raymond’s contesting’s had its due diligence.

So suddenly, I’m enemy number one. Nobody saw this coming. My dad was even the younger son.

“Well, obviously, that’s not right,” Raymond sputtered at the news and jerked to a stand from his chair in the lawyer’s office. “I mean, it’s not actually hers. Dad would never do that. He wanted her to divvy it up evenly. I’m sure of it.”

Nancy’s lips were pressed in a hard line. “Raymond, you’re making zero sense,” she said, tears pooling in her eyes. “Your dad gave it to her. They were close.”

My cousin, Marley, shook her head, but then offered me a kind smile. “Maybe Grandpa was as generous as Grandma was.”

I gather Navie closer to me, the moon shining through the curtains. Maybe I should get better curtains, thicker ones, throughout the house—the house Henry and I bought after our wedding.

I startle when there’s a scraping sound on the back patio. The neighbor’s dog starts to bark. I ease out of bed, carefully and slowly, and go to the window, cracking the corner of the curtain open.

A shadowy form moves in my backyard.

Raymond.

I yank on my thin, cotton robe and tear out the bedroom, down the hall, through the kitchen, and to the back door.

“Raymond!” I yell-whisper. Something holds me back from full-on yelling. Probably a reflex from having a three-year-old who’s asleep. “This needs to stop!” But he’s nowhere to be found. The gate is open, though, and so I go running, barefoot, stepping on prickly, spring grass. I plow through the open gate.

“Raymond! You’ve been caught.” Now I’m actually yelling because I can see his retreating, dark form, bulky up top and thinner legs, his torso like an apple, his shoulders steady as he runs.

Huh. Impressive speed for someone his age and size.

I reach the end of the driveway when I slow.What am I doing?I want to follow him so I can scream at him, but I can’t leave Navie. And did I close the back door all the way when I left the house?

I pace, barefoot, in my driveway, the full moon overhead illuminating the quiet street.

This has got to stop.

How far will he go?

Should I back down and give him some of the money? Should I give him all of it?

Nope. I entertained that thought these past few months, but with the way Raymond’s been acting and my grandfather’s dying wish to trust him and accept the money, that’s not going to happen.

There’s a reason he gave it to me, and I want to be the best steward over it that I can be.

I stand straighter and squeeze both sides of my head with my hands. Raymond’s getting into my yard and my house.

Crap.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

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