Dear Agony

Part I

"Hey, SJ! It's two o'clock. What time you meeting with that lawyer?" My boss' booming voice called from the office of the garage. I finished tightening the oil filter on the Pontiac and rolled out from under the sedan. I hopped to my feet and turned towards him.

"Three." I smiled and motioned over my shoulder to the car beside me. "I'm just gonna' finish this oil change, then I'll head out. Thanks."

He gave a quick, friendly nod and moved back into the office. Ricky was a good man and a great boss. When most shops wouldn't give me a job, because I was a chick, Ricky didn't hesitate. I had just as much mechanical experience as most of the guys my age, but that didn't seem to matter to the other garages. 'The garage is no place for a girl, you could get hurt' is the gist of the responses I got. But, not from Ricky. He took one look at my resume and hired me on the spot.

After filling the oil in the sedan, I dropped the hood and headed over to the office to clock out. I wiped my hands on my jeans before punching the time clock and reaching for my bag and keys. "I'll catch ya' tomorrow, Ricky." I said as I turned to leave.

Ricky spun around in his chair, concern in his eyes. "You sure you don't want tomorrow off, hun?" Ricky became like a father figure to me over the past two years and even more so recently when my grandfather passed. Yes, he was my boss, but the garage was more like a family than most others. He didn't treat his employees like shit and didn't work us into the ground.

I smiled and leaned on the door frame facing him. "It depends on how this goes. I'll give you a call later if I need a day."

He nodded, giving me a soft smile. "Sure."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nerve-wracking thoughts spiraled around my mind as I waited in the sitting area of the Probate office. What was so secret that my grandfather left me? He'd already had the house, his car and all his financial gains named to me, as I was the only living kin remaining. My mother, his daughter, had died when I was sixteen. She'd been on yet another drunken binge and wrapped her car around a tree. My father wasn't in the picture and hadn't been for just about my whole life. I vaguely remembered being with him when I was very young, but the memories were all fuzzy and just about non-existent. I anxiously picked at some grease under my fingernails as my foot tapped lightly on the floor.

The office door to my right opened suddenly, jarring me from my thoughts and I stood.

"Ah, Miss Trager. Please, come in." The stout older man smiled and held the door, ushering me inside.

I gave him a short smile as I followed him into the office and sat in the large leather chair that he motioned to. His office smelled musty with a hint of cigars, which I thought was odd since I didn't see an ashtray or a humidor anywhere in sight.

"Mr. Levin. What exactly is this about? I thought Charles had already left me everything?" I asked as he rounded the desk and sat opposite of me.

He pushed his glasses up further on his nose and shuffled through a few papers before grabbing a pen and handing them to me. "Yes, it's just one item that was left in my care. No need to worry. Sign these, please." He smiled as I hesitantly took the papers from him. I eyed him for a moment before relenting and scribbled my name on the lines checked.

"Very good." He gathered the papers and shoved them into a folder before moving to the cabinet behind his desk. Unlocking a drawer, he leaned in and picked up a box. "Here we go." He held the cardboard box above the desk to me. My hands felt cold as I reached and took it from his grasp. It was just larger than a shoe box and had a decent weight to it. 'Summer J. Trager' was written in marker across the top of it. I gazed up to Mr. Levin with a confused look on my face.