Page 4 of Marry Me, Right Now

He grinned. “Yes, but I had to pop by to see my lawyer just down the street.” His eyes tightened. “There’s a family issue that needs to be resolved, and I just found out that there might be more to it than I was aware of.”

“Oh. That sounds stressful.”

His dark hair was ruffled by the slight breeze as he

nodded. “Yeah, it’s awkward sometimes.” He quickly gave his head a shake. “Not nearly as stressful as searching for a home though. I really do hope that you find something quickly.” He stood up, extending his hand. “Lovely to meet you, Mia.”

“You too,” I said. His handshake was warm, strong, and just a tiny bit too long. “Best of luck with babysitting the suit guys.”

His eyes sparkled when he laughed, those smoky blue eyes glinting in the sun. “Thanks.”

JACOB

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THE WEIRD UNCLE

Driving back to my condo by the lake, I realized it had been incredibly refreshing spending a little time with a beautiful girl in the sunshine. I certainly needed a break, and admiring her sweet heart shaped face, big doll eyes, and long spicy auburn hair reminded me that I needed more female company.

My mother, my older brother George and I had been dealing with the eccentricities of Uncle Geoffrey’s will and estate for the past year. He was an extremely strange man, and the term “weird old geezer” had frequently been used by his staff.

He was my mother’s much older brother, who never married, so most of his larger assets went to my brother and I. Our family lawyer had assured us that given the strange requests, we had to try to carry them out, but were not obligated to put in Herculean effort.

Uncle Geoffrey wanted a huge chest of old wooden children’s toys sent to an orphanage in Russia. He had no ties with anyone there and didn’t specify a particular organization. The amount it would have cost to ship it was ten times what the toys were worth, but we were prepared to do it, except that nobody wanted them. The one woman my Russian speaking friend dealt with sounded convinced that it might be some sort of Trojan horse of viruses.

So we donated it to the local Pioneer Village, who were incredibly grateful. They hosted school tours, and assured us that the antique toys would be enjoyed by children on both a recreational and educational level.

When it was time to divide his main assets, the paperwork became more clear, yet more confusing. Uncle Geoffrey had always tried to teach us that the devil was in the details, and that documents always had to be examined extremely carefully.

I remember when I was seven, he gave me a birthday card. After I read it and thanked him, he had given me a pointed stare. “Did you fine-tooth comb it?” he had asked, the odd expression one of his funniest mannerisms.

Sure enough, when I looked again, some of the letters were bolder than the rest, thickened with a marker. If only the bold letters of “Happy Birthday to my Precious Nephew,” were read, it actually said, “BIRD PEN.” Running to the hallway outside of my mother’s bedroom where there was an antique gilt birdcage, I found a huge wrapped box containing ten brand new race cars.

I remember my mother laughing. “Geoffrey, you sneak. What would you have done if he hadn’t figured it out?”

“I’d have given it to George. These boys need to learn to look out for tricks. Paperwork is important.”

When it came down to dividing Uncle’s prized cars, I let George have the first pick, because I knew he was a car buff. He selected the classic sixties sportster, and crashed it two weeks later, causing thousands of dollars of damage. He had never learned how to take care of his toys. When he whined loudly enough, someone had always just bought him a new one to shut him up. He never learned.

As luck would have it, I had purchased a new everyday car just a few weeks before his passing, so my second round selection was this classic high end silver sports car for special occasions, and when I felt like driving around to think things through.

It was coming in handy right now. I certainly needed to think after the information the lawyer just shared with me, that George had conveniently forgotten to mention.

The most important things that Uncle Geoffrey left us were huge amounts of money to donate, our inheritances, and his house.

It was clearly stated that we were each to receive eight million dollars when we turned thirty. That much I knew. But I hadn’t been informed that we actually received the money on our thirtieth birthday or when we got married, whichever came first. I’m sure Geoffrey was certain George wouldn’t be getting married anytime soon, so perhaps he added that clause just in case I suddenly found the woman of my dreams.

However, the money was being kept in a basic savings account that was earning a lowly two percent interest.

As a bit of a financial guru, this almost caused me physical pain. The potential of that amount was being wasted. Invested conservatively outside of Canada, it could be making at least six percent. In some of my funds, parts of it could easily be earning nearly ten, as I shuffled it around.

As much as it was annoying, I did understand Uncle’s decision of our thirtieth birthdays. George has always behaved in a somewhat childish manner, spoiled and selfish. He was basically still a teenager when he was twenty-five. But the past few years he had been improving slightly, and a few years ago when Uncle realized he was sick and redid his will, he may have taken a chance that George would be able to handle the responsibility at thirty.

Even though I was the younger brother, I was much older in many ways. I’ve always possessed a level headed calm that impressed adults, and made me appear immediately trustworthy.

I had truly hoped that my Uncle would take this into consideration when deciding who would get his incredible mansion. George naturally wanted it because it was extremely expensive, and had always believed that the price was the only measure of quality. He truly believed that rich friends and valuable possessions were the building blocks of happiness.

I wanted it because I’ve always loved that strange old house. It was modern enough to be comfortable, yet had so many old fashioned touches it was charming. The house had a quiet feeling that I couldn’t describe. It was like being away at a cottage while practically in the middle of the city.

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