I thought about Emma and Jacob. Would they be hurt by this?
But then I realized they barely knew me. Victoria had made sure of that. They had Dererick’s mother, the best grandma, who saw them every weekend.
I was the grandma who sent checks and didn’t see them open their presents.
The next day, I sat in Richard’s office and outlined what I wanted. Richard listened without judgment, taking notes.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked when I finished.
I’ve never been more sure of anything.
We spent 2 hours going through everything. The house would go to a trust that would eventually fund scholarships for students who’d lost a parent. Like Victoria had lost Robert, the Robert Holloway Memorial Scholarship Fund.
My savings would be split between several charities I’d researched, organizations that helped elderly people with medical expenses, grocery delivery services for homebound seniors, programs that visited isolated elderly people.
The life insurance would establish a fund specifically for medical expenses for lowincome seniors in Ohio.
Victoria would get $1, legally required to show I hadn’t forgotten her and a letter explaining exactly why she was getting nothing else.
This is a solid plan, Richard said. But Maggie, you should know this might cause significant family conflict.
Richard, the family conflict already exists. Victoria just doesn’t know it yet.
I signed the new will that evening, September 18th. Richard had two witnesses, his secretary and his parallegal, both of whom I’d met before.
They watched me sign, serious and professional. Richard notorized it, everything legal and binding.
I remember walking out of that office feeling lighter than I’d felt in years. The evening sun was still warm.
I stopped at the ice cream shop on Main Street and got a cone. Butter pecan, my favorite. I sat on a bench outside and watched people walk by.
Young families, elderly couples holding hands, teenagers laughing together.
I felt free.
I didn’t tell Victoria about the will change immediately. Part of me wanted to see if anything would change on its own.
Maybe that phone conversation had been a one-off. Maybe she’d been having a bad day. Maybe she’d call and apologize.
But nothing changed.
She didn’t call to apologize. She didn’t call at all for 2 weeks.
When she finally did, it was to ask if I could watch the kids the following Saturday because she and Derek had concert tickets.
I can’t, I said. I have plans.
Oh, okay.
She sounded surprised. I’d never said no before.
What are you doing?
Just plans with a friend.
Which friend?