Page 67 of Mess With Me
“Hey, what’s up?” Ethan said curtly.
“I’ve got some news.”
Ethan straightened, immediately on alert. “What happened? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I wanted to let you know Peggy’s estate is going to you and Zach. She left you everything.”
Joe’s voice reached him through a long tunnel. His foster mom left him everything? He could barely comprehend.
“Eth?”
“What estate? Why me and Zach? Why am I just hearing about this now? Peggy died two months ago.”
“It takes a while for these things to go through. She made me executor of her will. It had to have a court hearing first. We were waiting to hear if any kin might object to the will. No one came forward. Now it’s official. Her house and everything in it are yours.”
He stared at the floor, his vision blurry. Why would she leave it to him?
Joe went on. “I’ve been looking in on the house once a week. It’s in good shape. Zach stopped by this morning and I gave him the key. He’s waiting to hear from you about going over there.”
Ethan jerked his head up. “Yeah, okay. Bye.” He hung up and called Zach.
“Guess you heard,” Zach said.
“You got some time to go over there?” It was Sunday, so they both had the day off.
“Yeah, I’m home. I’ll meet you there in ten.”
Ethan drove over in case he needed to haul something away, though he could’ve walked, he lived just on the other side of town. He beat Zach there and parked in front of the three-bedroom ranch house that had been his first real home. The white vinyl siding and black shutters were in good condition, the yard full of leaves again. He’d just raked them a couple of weeks ago. His heart lodged in his throat. He could just see Peggy out here in her old brown coat and sensible brown shoes, raking the leaves like she did every fall. She was a no-nonsense practical woman. Strong. She must’ve been so strong to build a life on her own, a widow who’d lost her only son and then went on to foster so many kids well after the age most people retired.
He made his way to the backyard, grabbed the rake leaning against the back of the house, and got to work, his mind wandering back to Peggy’s death right in this yard. She’d died under the heat of the late August sun, pulling weeds in her flower beds. Eighty-four years old and her heart just gave out. Unfortunately, since she’d been in the backyard when she collapsed, her neighbor hadn’t noticed until it was too late to revive her.
Guilt stabbed at him and he raked harder, long sweeping strokes. He hadn’t seen Peggy since his birthday back in June. She’d made him his favorite dessert, carrot cake. He gave her a gift card to her favorite store, Target, like he always did when he visited. Now it seemed so impersonal. They hadn’t hugged.
He stopped, leaning on the rake, lost in memories of this house and Peggy.
“Eth!”
He snapped to attention at Zach’s appearance. His foster brother was his age, tall and lean with dark brown hair on the shaggy side and a full beard that probably fit in perfectly with his job as a professor. “Hey.”
“Ready?”
His knees locked. It was never going to be easy to go through Peggy’s things. He hadn’t been inside the house since his birthday. “Sure.” He set the rake back against the side of the house and followed Zach to the front door.
“Did you know Joe was the executor of her will?” Zach asked.
“No, but I’m not too surprised. Joe was her emergency person. They were in touch a lot when we were kids.” Peggy had thought it important that he and Zach have a male role model and encouraged them to spend as much time as they wanted with the Campbells. With all the boys close to their age hanging around the Campbell house, that meant they spent nearly all of their free time there. Peggy’s house became a place to sleep and eat. She was brisk and efficient, the place was always clean, homemade meals on the table. His gut churned. He’d taken her for granted. She had nobody. Her husband long ago passed, her son killed by a drunk driver. Why hadn’t he visited more? He hadn’t realized how much he meant to her.
“True.” Zach pulled the key out of his jeans pocket, stuck it in the lock, and blew out a breath.
Ethan reached out and finished the job, opening the front door. Neither of them moved.
“Why did she leave everything to us?” Ethan asked. “There was a constant parade of foster kids through this house before and after us. I don’t get it.”
Zach turned to face him. “She loved us the most.”
“Bullshit. She didn’t love us. She never said she loved us. I can’t remember even a hug from her.”
Zach’s light brown eyes met his, sad and sympathetic. “She wasn’t an affectionate woman, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t love us. She took good care of us, gave us a stable drama-free home. She worked with Joe to make sure we had a father figure.” Zach’s voice choked and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
