inheritance | New Book 2024

two: welcome to the neighborhood

CHAPTER TWO
Welcome to the Neighborhood

We couldn't move into the new house until the judge approved my change of address. And, as with all bureaucratic nonsense, it took a long time. The viewing and the funeral had come and gone by the time I got the 'okay' to move Jonah and I in. Thankfully, since the house was only a half-hour drive from the apartment, it wasn't too complicated. I still retained custody as the primary residential parent. His dad, as the alternate residential parent, would still get to pick him up every other weekend. If he wasn't too busy with his women to do so, that is.

The funeral, on the other hand, didn't go so smoothly. Word had been passed around that Grandma sold me the house, and I was peppered with questions. Every which way I turned, there was a new black-clad relative I hardly knew sporting a concerned whisper over how I'd pay for the house or how the other family members must be so devastated to not inherit Grandma's furniture. I tried to iron out the story as much as I could, saying that Grandma had sold me the house outright so I wouldn't have to pay a mortgage and how the family members would still get their sentimental items but Grandma specifically said she didn't want to see me filling the home with Ikea furniture or bedbug-ridden curbside couches. She'd told me she'd haunt me if I brought composite furniture or a hex key into her home.

Most of them seemed to understand that sentiment. While it didn't turn their pursed lips into smiles, it appeased them well enough that they nodded, gave their condolences, and moved onto the next topic or the next relative.

Only a few people asked me about Matt. That was old news by then. However, my great-aunt clutched my hand and told me she'd seen Matt at restaurant on a date with a woman.

"Unfortunately, that's not much news to me," I'd responded.

She shook her head. "A young girl. Of course, everyone looks like a baby when you're my age, but this girl was so young. She must've been in college!"

My stomach rolled. I was twenty-nine and quickly approaching thirty. The thought of Matt not just cheating on me but sleeping with younger women... I could throttle him. I really, really hoped he wouldn't marry some sweet, naive twenty-one year old. If I had to attend a wedding... If I had to call some stranger my son's stepmom? I shook my head.

"We're divorced," I replied. "He can date whoever he wants now." After a moment, I added, "Thank you for telling me."

She nodded and went on her way, still wearing a concerned, sympathetic smile.

But all that wasn't even the worst part of the funeral. The worst part was my family. A good handful wouldn't talk to me or meet my eye. About half made snide, passive aggressive comments. The rest were nice but too formal, as if they wanted to be mean but couldn't bring themselves to do so. And Aunt Lorene was so nice. Concerningly nice. I hoped she wasn't secretly planning my untimely and convenient death.

Jonah had a good time, though. Thankfully, he behaved. He had to sit completely bored through all the formal, no-talking parts, and I'm not some terrible mom, so I could sympathize with that. I promised him ice cream in advance. And, he still got to run around and play with his cousins before and after and sing along to his favorite hymns during the service. Oh, and he loved being in the funeral procession. He was puffed up with pride at all the other cars on the road having to wait for our little black parade.

I was glad to have it all over.

By the time we moved in, Aunt Lorene had already retrieved the items Grandma listed in her will and distributed them to the family. I'd offered to give her the key, but she said she already had a copy. I made a mental note to change the locks.