dotted & crossed

once more for good measure

chapter two

A two-hour drive later brought Ginny right back to her own doorstep. She raised her hand to knock, but the door was flung open before her knuckles could meet the hard wood. Her mother pulled Ginny into a tight hug, which wouldn't be abnormal for her other than the news that she had just relayed to Ginny over the phone. Ginny was ushered inside, where she was met with her father, a few of Aunt Peg's American friends who had apparently received a similar message as Ginny, and a stranger dressed in all black and holding a large brown envelope. The executor of the will, no doubt. Strange for Aunt Peg to pick someone so identifiable.

Once she had greeted everyone in the room, Ginny pulled out her phone to text Ethan and tell him about the emergency. It was a habit she had grown accustomed to. If anything happened, her first text would be to Marion and the next to her loving boyfriend. Their communication was uncanny which is very strange considering the boys Ginny has fallen for in her past. Ethan sent her a text of encouragement and love and told her to call him when it was all over. Ginny agreed and tucked her phone away as the man in black started to read.

"Family and friends of Margaret, or Peg as she was so fondly nicknamed, you've been gathered to receive the assets of the dearly departed young artist that she enlisted to each of you. To her only sister, she leaves this note and the money from the mortgage of her apartment in New York. She also asks that you be careful of her trash wall, it holds great treasures of her heart." Ginny's mother started to read the letter she had been handed and tears were already welling in her eyes. The key to the 4th Noodle Penthouse was placed on the table in front of her. More of Aunt Peg's belongings were divided amongst people, at least the material ones that resided in America. But Ginny tuned out the deadpan of the man in the dark clothes.

Ginny couldn't help but feel like a will isn't Aunt Peg's style. The thirteen envelopes, especially that last one, seemed to be like her final words to the world. Not an official last will and testament of Margaret Blackstone. Or Murphy, as she had married Richard before her death. But a straightforward description on regular paper of how she wanted her things to be distributed? It's just not her. If anything it was more Richard than Aunt Peg.

Then it hit her. It was from Richard. He must have written her will before she passed on, asking Peg for assistance in her more lucid hours. But there had to have been a reason he sent it. Why now? After four years?

"Finally," The man said after what felt like an hour, "to my dearest niece Virginia Ginny Blackstone."

There it was. Signatured with her two names as she always seemed to use. What could it possibly be?

"Margaret asks that no one else be present at this time." Everyone left quietly, though her mother lingered a bit longer than everyone else. With a terse nod, Ginny sent her mother into the other room. "Ginny, I trust you had fun on your envelope adventure." The man was deadpanning as he read as if he didn't truly see the words on the paper or the emotion that was no doubt behind them. He read them as words and words alone. It bothered Ginny more than she cared to admit.

The man pulled a familiar object from the larger brown envelope and placed it gingerly in Ginny's hands. She could only stare at it for a moment, but the man took no notice and began to read the page in his grasp. At first, she didn't hear him, only being able to stare at the blue rectangle in her hand, decorated with a plain number fourteen in a big font at the center of it all. There was no picture, no artwork, no decoration, but there wasn't a doubt in Ginny's mind what it was. Then she tuned back in at the sound of her name.