Page 9 of When You Got a Good Thing (Misfit Inn 1)

“The singing. When my abuela died, the priest did the service, but there was no music. Only prayers. Joan would’ve liked it.”

Kennedy’s shoulders rose and fell, and her voice, when she spoke, was a little choked. “Simon and Garfunkel were particular favorites of hers. But she lo

ved all kinds of music. At one point, we had so many kids in the house who sang or played some kind of an instrument, we put together a band.”

“Yeah?”

She gave a watery laugh. “Oh, we were absolutely terrible. But Joan sat and listened to our concerts like we were The Beatles or something.” She hesitated. “Do you even know who The Beatles are at your age?”

Ari shook her head and leaned against Kennedy’s shoulder. “You could maybe show me.”

Kennedy wrapped an arm around her, tugging her close. “I will absolutely do that.”

Ari needed this way more than Xander needed…whatever it was he’d hoped to get out of this encounter. Edging back, he made his way quietly back to the house.

Chapter Three

KENNEDY WAS STILL HUNG over from tears and jet lag as she and her sisters stepped into the attorney's office the day after the funeral. The drive to Johnson City had been a blur, but at least there'd been coffee—Athena's doing, so it'd been excellent. Maggie gave their name to the fifty-something receptionist, and in a matter of minutes, the four of them were escorted into an office full of leather and wood and law books.

The attorney, Robert Barth, came around his desk, offering a hand to each of them in turn.

"Thank you for coming to the service yesterday," Pru said.

Kennedy fixed her attention on the man as she shook hands, noting the receding black hair, the faint paunch beneath his well-cut suit. He was close to forty, with laugh lines around his brown eyes. She had no memory of seeing him at the funeral. Then again, a stampede of elephants could've trooped through and she probably would've missed it. Her entire focus had been on Ari, her sisters, and that dreadful, dark hole in the ground.

"I would've been happy to come to the house."

"We thought it best to handle things here," Maggie said.

"Of course, of course. As you wish." Robert gestured toward a small conference table surrounded by six, low-backed leather chairs. "Please, sit. Can I have Marlene make you some coffee? Tea?"

Maggie and Athena declined. Pru asked for coffee. Kennedy would've given her right arm for a properly-steeped cup of Irish breakfast tea, but she figured that the best on offer here would be weak tea bags, so she demurred as well, grabbing a chair at random and sinking in.

After rummaging around his desk for a moment, Robert came to join them. "I still can't believe she's gone. You know, I was one of her first fosters?"

Pru jolted. "Oh? I didn't realize."

"It's been a long, long time. I was with her for about nine months, while my mother went through rehab and got her life back together."

"You were able to go home again?" Athena asked.

"I was."

"Lucky," she murmured.

Kennedy wanted to reach out a hand to her sister. Athena hadn't been able to go home, and she'd never fully gotten over it. But at the opposite end of the table, Athena was out of reach. She wouldn't have appreciated the gesture anyway.

"Joan always kept tabs on me," Robert continued, smiling a bit in memory. "Came to my high school, college, and law school graduations. She gave me my first briefcase. Anyway, I've been handling her legal affairs ever since."

Memory lane. Everybody at the reception yesterday had wanted to walk down it, share their story for how Joan had come into their lives, how she’d improved it. There were so, so many stories. The fact that there’d be no more made Kennedy heartsick. The world wasn’t ready to do without her. Kennedy wasn’t ready to do without her.

Evidently sensing they were ready to get down to business, Robert cleared his throat and unfolded the papers in his hand. "Joan had me draw up her will years ago, with modifications as each of you were formally adopted. I'll just read it through, then address any questions you may have."

He launched in. By the second line of legalese, Kennedy was already tuning out. She'd always had a crappy attention span, especially for things that had unnecessarily formal or complicated language. It was part of the reason she'd done so poorly in school. If not for Pru and Maggie, the chances of her graduating at all would’ve been pretty slim. College hadn’t even been on her radar, and she’d much preferred all the hands-on learning she’d done over the past ten years. Still, none of that had adequately prepared her to understand any of this.

Realizing Robert had finished reading, Kennedy struggled to focus. “I’m sorry. I’m having a little trouble concentrating. Could you sum that up in plain English?”

“Of course. She’s bequeathed a lengthy and specific list of items to you and your sisters, as well as various other friends or former fosters. I’ll certainly provide you with that list. As you know, y’all are her only family, so the house and acreage it sits on, as well as the trust that has covered most of the upkeep on the property, is left to the four of you, equally. The property has been in Reynolds hands since the mid-1800s, so she was very clear that it go to y’all.”

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