Whether we like it or not, we all inherit baggage from our ancestors. A few freckles, a curvy bum, saddlebag thighs--those pesky people who came before us made us who we are--at least, genetically speaking.
But what we do with the hands we've been dealt is up to us. I guess I'm thinking about this because it looks like my granddaughter might have red hair. (Hooray for Grandma Dickson!) Which is a surprise because her dad is half Filipino, so one would think she'd have her father's thick black locks rather than her Scottish grandmother's red mane.
We all inherit something!
I'm also puzzling over a comment I received on my story for an upcoming anthology. A reviewer thought it wasn't a romance. True, many of my books are more Women's Fiction than romances., but there's always a strong love story.
I'm not sure that's true for the books I wrote during the pandemic, though. I consider myself lucky I was able to write anything during those stressful months...years.
What do you prefer? A story that's all about the couple? I like writing about complex family emotions and dynamics, but I'd love to know what you want to read.
Here's a scene from one of the books I wrote during the pandemic. It's an inheritance that upended Lizzy and Madeline's lives and radically changed their relationship. (Only .99 cents for a limited time.)
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Wind-driven leaves, twigs, and small, forgotten debris skipped across the parking lot. The breeze ruffled the hem of Madeline’s skirt and tickled up her legs. Lyle’s office was in the same professional building as her father’s, less than a mile from her own. Her father had tried to get her to lease office space in the same plaza, but for reasons she hadn’t stopped to question, she’d balked.
Dad could pave her way through law school, but he couldn’t get her in his plaza. Still, first as a kid and then as an intern, she’d spent so many hours at the Rancho Allegro Business Park, it almost felt like home.
Madeline pulled open the door to Mayer and Watson, LLP, and greeted the receptionist. To her surprise, she found Lizzy in the waiting room, sitting in a wingback chair and reading a Martha Stewart magazine.
Lizzy glanced up, her eyes widening. The magazine in her hands slipped to her lap. Lizzy recaptured her composure, stood, and gathered Madeline into a hug. After pulling away, she said, “Imagine! Seeing you twice in a week! It’s like finding a lucky penny not once, but twice.”
Madeline’s smile felt tight. She didn’t like Lizzy any more than Lizzy liked her. The difference between them was that Madeline was candid and Lizzy didn’t know how to be honest, even with herself. She’d been pretending to be a character in a cheesy movie even before there ever was a Hallmark Channel. Lizzy was soft, squishy, and smelled of something sweet. Vanilla, maybe? Madeline pulled away as soon as she could and tugged her blazer back into place.
“What are we doing here?” Lizzy reclaimed her seat.
“I guess we’ll find out.” Madeline settled into a chair not quite next to her former sister-in-law.
She took in Lizzy out of the corner of her eye. Lumpy sweater. Stretched- out jeans. Navy blue sneakers dotted with tiny strawberries. Not-quite-white socks. As if Lizzy felt Madeline’s gaze, she smoothed down her sweater and crossed her ankles.
The phone buzzed, and the receptionist answered. “Mrs. Clark? You can both go in.”
Madeline buttoned her blazer, stood, and strode for the door. Lizzy trailed after her like a kid sister.
Madeline didn’t have any siblings. She’d been thrilled when Chad had first introduced her to Lizzy. But the thrill had been short-lived. As soon as Lizzy had opened her mouth, she’d made it painfully obvious they were as different as poodles and kittens.
Not that Lizzy was unattractive. Thirty plus years ago, she’d been a beauty. She still was—if you didn’t mind lumpy sweaters, misshapen jeans, and sneakers dotted with strawberries.
Lyle held the door open for them to pass through. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the back bay. A flock of geese in a V formation winged by. What would it be like to be so free?
After shaking hands with both women, Lyle motioned to the leather chairs facing his desk. Lyle also took a seat. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you both here today.”
Beside Madeline, Lizzy crossed her legs and laced her fingers together in her lap. Tension rolled off her. Madeline could almost smell her former sister-in-law’s hot flash. When no one else spoke, Madeline said, “I assume this has to do with Brian’s estate.”
Lyle pulled a pair of glasses out of his breast pocket and slipped them on. “Yes.”
“How—why—” Lizzy stammered, then cleared her throat. “What does this have to do with me?”
Lyle ignored Lizzy and fingered the papers on his desk. “It may surprise you to learn Brian hadn’t changed his will since the divorce. This was something we’d talked about many times. He informed me that should anything ever happen to him, he would wish his entire estate bequeathed to you, Madeline.”
“But our children—” Madeline began.
“Brian knew your children would eventually receive their inheritance when you pass. He thought that they could better handle the wealth when they were more mature.” Lyle looked at Madeline fondly. “He had great faith in you. Much more than he had in himself.”
Madeline skated Lizzy another glance. Lizzy stared out the window beyond Lyle, her lips pressed together, shoulders rigid.
“The thing is,” Lyle cleared his throat, “shortly before his death, Brian made a rather speculative purchase—using not only all of his estate, but also yours, Mrs. Clark.”
Madeline and Lizzy exchanged glances.
“What?” Lizzy acted as if Lyle had just surprised her with a pop quiz and pressed her hand against her breast. “We’re both Mrs. Clark.”
As if he didn’t know.
Lyle donned a look that managed to appear both patient and condescending. “And he used both estates, yours—Elizabeth—and his own.”
Now he had Lizzy’s full attention. Her mouth formed a perfect O. After a stunned beat of silence, she rasped, “He spent all of my money?”
“Yes. On a warehouse in Running Springs.”
“Running Springs?” Lizzy echoed. “In the San Bernardino Mountains?”
“You’re familiar with the area?” Lyle steepled his fingers and rested back in his chair.
“Somewhat,” Lizzy said. “Running Springs, not so much. My daughter lives in Lake Arrowhead. My grandparents had a cabin there.”
“And now, you are a joint owner of a warehouse,” Lyle pronounced as if he was bestowing great news. “Both your names are on the deed.”
“A warehouse? I don’t want a warehouse!” Lizzy blinked rapidly, looking like she teetered on the verge of tears.
Madeline had never seen her former sister-in-law lose her temper—would she do so now?
“I’d be happy to find a broker to list it for you,” Lyle said, “but given the current state of affairs and market, I’m sure it would sell at a loss.”
“Why would Brian buy a warehouse?” Madeline scooted to the edge of her seat.
Lyle raised his hands in a defeated gesture.
Something clicked in Madeline’s memory. Lizzy must have come to the same conclusion, because she asked, “Is this warehouse the same one where they found Brian’s body?”
“Yes,” Lyle said. “But you know that, according to the autopsy report, Brian died of a heart attack.”
Brian, Chad, and their father had all suffered with heart disease and a yen for rich food and red meat—a deadly combination.
Lizzy blinked some more. “Still, rather coincidental, don’t you think?”
Madeline caught her lower lip in her teeth. She’d never considered Lizzy the suspicious kind. She was as naïve as a lamb, if not going to be slaughtered—because the woman did always land on her feet, usually while balancing a platter of cookies in her hands—then, at the very least, sheared.
“Do you have the deed?” Madeline asked.
“Of course,” Lyle murmured.
“I’d like to see it,” Madeline said.
Lyle pushed a packet of papers across his desk. Madeline gathered them up and flipped through them.
“I know this must come as a shock to both of you.” Lyle slipped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“What’s in this warehouse?” Lizzy peered over Madeline’s shoulder.
“It’s empty.” Lyle laced his fingers together and rested his hands on his belly. “It’s been abandoned for several years.”
“So, there’s no lease, or anything?” Lizzy bit her lip in concern.
“Do you know what he had planned to do with it?” Madeline looked up from the deed.
“No idea,” Lyle said. “I’m just as surprised as you are. This is really uncharacteristic of the Brian we knew…and loved.”
“All of my money? Gone?” Lizzy said, almost as if talking to herself, trying to convince herself of this new reality. She sank back in her chair.
Lyle held up a finger and pointed at the ceiling. “It’s not gone. It’s just been invested in a warehouse.”
“That you say would be imprudent to sell.” Lizzy’s voice turned hard and cold—two adjectives Madeline would never have attributed to her former sister-in-law. “Can we lease it out?”
“For what?” Madeline considered Lizzy, her cheeks flaming red, her blue eyes sparkling like ice shards.
“How would I know?” Lizzy stood. “You’re the one with the deed!”
Madeline handed it to her. “Would you like to read it?”
Lizzy made a grunting noise, rolled her eyes, and gazed out the window while she gathered her thoughts. “I want to take a picture of it.”
“Of the warehouse?” Madeline asked.
“The deed.” Lizzy’s tone had the word duh attached to it.
“Be my guest.” Madeline handed it over.
Lizzy pulled her phone from her purse, placed the deed on Lyle’s desk, and busied herself taking pictures of each page.
“What are you going to do with that?” Madeline asked.
“I don’t know. Something.” Lizzy pocketed her phone.
“Whatever you do, you’ll need my cooperation,” Madeline told her.
“What do you suggest we do?” Lizzy sounded snarky and emphasized the pronoun. Interesting. Madeline had never seen this side of Lizzy before.
“Go and look at it?” Madeline suggested.
“I can go tomorrow.”
“I’m in court all day tomorrow,” Madeline said, “but there’s really no need for both of us to go.”
“There’s no need for either of you to go if you’d rather not,” Lyle interjected. “I can contact a broker who can provide not only pictures but also a video tour. That is, after all, a typical part of the listing.”
“Will you email me a link?” Madeline asked.
“And me as well.” Lizzy’s tone had lost its combative edge, but Madeline could tell she was about to explode.
After the meeting, Lizzy marched beside Madeline, her anger clear with every strawberry-sneaker-stomp. Once they reached the parking lot, Lizzy rounded on Madeline. “What do you know about this?”
Madeline paused beside her Audi. A few spaces over, she spotted Lizzy’s ancient Honda. She still drove that thing? It should have been put out of its misery years ago.
“Madeline!” Lizzy barked.
Madeline wanted to laugh at her former sister-in-law’s outrage. “Nothing. I promise you. This is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Lizzy demanded.
“Don’t you mean, what are we going to do about it?” Madeline countered.
“I know nothing about warehouses,” Lizzy said.
“And you think I do?” The wind kicked up and lifted the edge of Madeline’s skirt. She fought her frustration. “I’ll have my assistant call a local broker.”
Lizzy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m behaving badly. I know this isn’t your fault. It’s just...”
Madeline waited for Lizzy to finish.
“Never mind,” Lizzy mumbled, and headed for her rattletrap. “Let me know what the broker says and how I can help,” she tossed over her shoulder.
Madeline felt as if someone had passed her a ball in a game she could never win.
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