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Addison let out an audible gasp beside me. “Mrs. Easter was a Tucker?”
The lawyer looked up, his eyebrows disappearing beneath the brim of the little hat he wore. “Mrs. Easter’s mother was a Tanner, but her father was a Tucker. And when she married, her name changed to Easter.”
I wasn’t sure Augustus understood why this news was so surprising to both of us, but figured maybe his impartiality in the age-old feud was what made him a good choice of attorney. The news was surprising to me too, though, and it gave me a new way to look at the strange things Mrs. Easter had said that day—about Addison and me, about the feud needing to end. Had she decided to end the feud herself? Was that what this was all about?
He continued reading, covering all the legal information, discussed Mrs. Easter’s lack of direct descendants, and then came the interesting part.
“This trust passes down my worldly goods, including the house at 54 Maple Lane and all of its contents, to Addison Agnes Tanner and Michael Joseph Tucker jointly.”
I felt my whole body go still. She’d left us a house? An entire house? Together? I shook my head in disbelief. Why? And what the hell were we supposed to do with it?
“The house, as it stands, requires improvements before it can be sold.”
That was an understatement. I thought of the old house behind the iron gates, the way the front porch sagged and the darkened windows sat cracked and eerie in the shadows of overgrown trees. Still, it was a big house, undoubtedly valuable. I could do a lot of the work myself and then sell the place to fund my store expansion. I didn’t like to capitalize on someone’s death, but this could be exactly what I needed.
The lawyer went on, “...and neither party named in this document may begin efforts to sell the property or its contents until such time as both have resided in the home for a minimum of six months.”
My eager thoughts crashed into a solid brick wall. What? She wanted us to live in the house? For six months each? Why?
“Once both parties have lived at 54 Maple Lane for six months or more, either separately or concurrently, and the required improvements have been made (see inclusion one for an itemized list of required and suggested repairs), then the house may be sold through whatever means the parties named herein deem appropriate, if that is their desire.”
I stared at the lawyer as Dan bounced at my side. Addison must have been just as shocked, because she wasn’t moving either.
Augustus put the document down and looked at us expectantly.
Addie’s mouth opened, but she didn’t say anything immediately, and I had no idea what to say. It made no sense at all. Of course we couldn’t jointly own and sell a house. We didn’t even know each other. Not to mention the underlying fact that we kind of hated one another.
“Wait,” Daniel said, rising to his feet and leaning over the desk. “She gave them her house? Together? That’s so weird. Isn’t that pretty weird? You’re a lawyer. Is that normal will stuff? To tell people they have to live together?” Daniel’s words were coming fast in his excitement and amusement, and the attorney kept trying to begin answering as Daniel kept forming new queries.
“Dan,” I whispered, and my son stopped talking.
“It’s unusual, yes,” Augustus said. “But not unheard of. And she doesn’t stipulate that you must both live in the house at the same time, exactly,” he pointed out.
Relief washed through me. Right. We didn’t have to live together. Why was part of me a little disappointed?
“But we have to live there for six months to sell it?” Addison asked.
“Correct. Or a full year if you do not live there concurrently.”
“Together,” Addison clarified.
“Yes.”
She looked at me then, as if evaluating my potential as a roommate. I stiffened. Why was some part of me wishing she’d decide that she did want to live with me? I definitely didn’t want to live with her.
“And this house,” I began, already knowing the answer. “54 Maple Lane...”
“Oh, man,” Daniel breathed, a chuckle beneath the words. “That’s the haunted house in the middle of town!” Daniel laughed out loud now, rubbing his hands together with excitement. “You guys own the haunted house! That place is so creepy!”
“That’s enough,” I said, making my voice stern and hard, and then regretting being harsh with him. This was a lot for all of us to process.
Dan sat back down, but a second later he was speaking again. “And doesn’t it say anything in there about a car?”
I elbowed him in the ribs, but Anders dropped his head back down to examine the document. “Oh, yes, you’re right young man. There is a car. Part of the property.”
Dan’s head whipped around to look at me, excitement in his wide eyes. I tried to give him a stern parental look. We’d discuss Corvettes later.
For a moment, no one said anything. Then Addison stood. “Why would Mrs. Easter leave her house to us?” she asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”
