inheritence

The noise of the city never ceases. Car horns, people clamoring around each other. That was what drew me to Chicago. I had visions of being a reporter. I saw myself getting my name splashed across the front page of a paper. I saw a bright future for myself. That was 4 years ago, right after I graduated college from Columbia's Journalism school. Now 4 years on, I finished a paid internship and I am a copy editor, you know the person who checks another persons work but never gets their name included in any place of prominence. A person who has to fix the terrible spelling and syntax of someone else. I sit in an office in the basement of this faboulous building working for a company that owns a publishing house and a string of news outlets, both print journals and digital platforms and the best I can get is we will see or perhaps next month. I am so frustrated that I want to go and check into a convent!

The phone on my desk starts ringing and I notice that it is a quarter before 6pm. I am not taking another call from an angry agent or my so called editor. I do try to have a life of some sort. I get my things and get ready to head to the elevator when suddenly my cell phone begins blowing up. It is vibrating up a storm. I am so over this, I don't get paid enough, but then I fumble through my bag and get it out. As I am about to hit deny, I notice that it is my mother. Oh crap, what has happened now. Is my dad sick again, has my sister found mr. right again and wants to show off her man of the month. Then it stops vibrating and a text appears. It simply says aunt Sophia I sit down in a chair and hit redial. The next few moments of my life are like a load of bricks being dropped on my lap. I just sit in silence and stare off into space. I am numb and I cannot find the energy to respond to what I have just found out.

My Great Aunt Sophia the woman who put me on track to a life of drudgery trying to be a writer, she died a few days ago. Now I am sitting in a lawyer's office in Indiana with the rest of my family. I am so tired, it has been a whirlwind of a few days. I got the call last Friday as I was kind of planning a weekend with friends. I had to cancel and explain twice why I couldn't go to a wine and cheese tasting on Saturday or go out for girls' night last Friday. It was almost like hearing my unit was called and I was a infantry solider about to go on a much-needed leave. I ran to my apartment packed a few bags and boarded a train back home. Now here I sit watching a guy who looks kind of like Ben Franklin fumble through some papers sorting out what he will say next. After what seems like an eternity, the attorney begins to speak, he has one of those dry raspy voices that kind of cracks when he speaks. He keeps clearing his throat, I half expect to see dentures coming out of his mouth at any moment. Anyway, he starts reading, page by page, item by item he lays out my aunts last wishes. Her sons get her lake cabin and her stock portfolio. Her grandchildren each get a bequeath. My mom gets her classic car and some money. I am sitting waiting and finally the lawyer gets to me. He calls out my name,Sarah, I just pull myself out of the doldrums and kind of raise my hand. The attorney, says you have inherited your aunts primary residence plus all of it's contents. I am kind of stunned. I thought he was going to tell me that I got her china or a type writer that she used to write her byline or magazine articles, but her whole house. The whole family looked at me like I had just killed somebody. I was stunned to say the least. The attorney said that were a few details to talk over but that we could do that a little later this week. I am like this week, I gotta get back to work. My career, my future, I am sure one of my independent stories will get published any day now or my big break is just around the corner.

I am at a loss for words. The rest of the family files out of the office with the attorneys legal secretary telling them that she will be in touch with the sorted details of claiming their inheritance from probate soon. As for me, I just sit there stunned. My mother takes my hand and I tell her I need a drink.

We leave the lawyers office and I don't remember much after that. Mom and I went to a local resturant where I had a few cocktails . I woke up at my mothers the next morning with a hangover. I could hear noises coming from down stairs. I rolled out of bed and fell into the shower. After an eternity of using hot water, I dried off and got dressed. I went down stairs in my pajamas and house shoes. The kitchen was alive with family and my dad was at the stove cooking. I was not in the mood for 20 questions and I looked like a homeless person to be honest. Breakfast went by quickly and my mother said that we needed to go back to the attorneys office. It was just before 11am when we arrived. No formal fanfare this time, just the paralegal waiting to see us in a conference room. We sat down and the woman pulled out some papers from a legal file. She said that I had a private letter written to me by my aunt. I inquired about it but she said that she hadn't opened it as the attorney only knew what it contained and he was in court. She left us alone so I could read the letter. It started, “ My dearest Sarah”. It was filled with a lot of emotional memories and explinations about what she was thinking when she left me the house. It wasn't until page 3 that I got a shock. My mom could see that I was startled and confused. I had to read the last page twice to make sure I got it all. I just put the letter down and threw my hands into the air. My mom asked me if I was okay so I handed her the letter. She read over it quickly and then got to the part that threw me for a loop. She was shocked, I got the house, plus a million-dollar retirement fund. The caveat was that I had to live in the house for a year and oh by the way, I had to take over care of her 3 dogs, Jack Russel Terriers, 3 of them! I mean I don't even have a plant in my apartment. How am I going to manage a dog, no 3 dogs, I am just beside myself. I go out and find the paralegal. She said did you get everything sorted. I was befuddeled beyond belief. I asked her when the attorney would be back, she told me around 3pm. So I got my mom and said we would be back later. I literally dragged her to the nearest coffee shop. I had to have some thing strong to get me focused. I just couldn't believe it!

The attorney came back to his office that afternoon. He explained to me that the dogs came with the inheritance. They were currently housed at a private kennel since my aunt passed. I was shown 3 photos, one was an older dog about 5 years named Pop, the other 2 were male and female litter mates. The male was named Rocket and the female was Pocket. I was not sure what to make of it, but I was sure I wasn't ready for this. I finished with the attorney and we drove out to my aunts house. It was a 3 story midwestern style home like one of those old mansions you would see in the movies. High colums, wide payne glass windows to let in the sunlight. The lawyer took me inside and gave me the grand tour. It had old wooden furniture with large cushions. There were 3 fire places in the house. The house had a large farm style kitchen with a big wooden table in the center and there was even a breakfast nook and a formal dining area. I was overwhelmed at all of it. I had to sit a while and let it sink in. I got up to walk around a bit and in the foyer I saw 3 large pillows. I wondered what they were for but I found out soon enough. A truck pulled up and I heard the sound of doors opening. Then yipping and scratching at the front. I opened the door and was almost bowled over by my 3 new companions. The went straight for the large pillows on the floor and just lay down. I was not expecting the dogs so soon. I went back into the kitchen to find my mother by herself. I asked where the lawyer went, she said he had to go back to town but that he would check in later. I got a sudden start as someone walked into the kitchen with Pop, Rocket and Pocket in tow. The woman wore a name tag, her name was Deborah. She was dressed in a working kind of uniform. It said Kountry Kennels on the sleeve patch. She greeted me and my mother. She sat down as if she were making herself at home. I asked if I could offer her something to eat or drink, she said no. She simply got right to the point and opened a 3 ring binder. She said that there were documents to sign transferring the custody of the animals to me and each dog came with it's own file folder on everything from it's food to medical care. So I sat down and listened attentively as I could as the 3 dogs watched my every nuiance and facial expression. After about a half an hour, Deborah asked me if I had any questions. I said not at the moment but that I would call her if I did.

I signed the ownership transfer papers and I was a dog mom. It was getting late in the afternoon and I saw the dogs just stairing at me. I bent over slightly and asked who was hungry, the two younger ones jumped into the air narrowly missing my nose. The older one just sat there and yawned at me. I got their specific food bowls out and preapred their meals. This was going to be something to get used to.

My mom stayed with me for a few days but had to get back to my dad and their life. I had spent time at the bank and wandering through the house. It felt like a large empty space filled with a pleasant ghost that might be following me around. Occassionally I would get scared out of my wits when one of the dogs would just pop up out of no where. I found out why the two younger ones were named Rocket and Pocket. The male liked to jet through the house and bounce off of door jams, the female seemed to enjoy crawling into couch coushions and corners of chairs exploring, for what I have no idea. I had spoken to my employeer and agreed to remote work via laptop for the time being, that didn't seem to be an issue and if I got into a pinch, there was the million dollars in a trust account I could make a withdrawl from. The house had little quirks, I decided to sleep on the main floor, which turned out to be a good thing. I would go to bed alone but wake up with 3 furry friends laying over my bed. I talked with the kennel lady, Deborah. She said that the animals would take time to adjust to my aunt's absence but that they all had been allowed to see her body after passing. She told me that animals seemed to understand that sort of thing if they were allowed to see their former owner. I wasn't sure how this was going to go, so I just decided to take it day by day.

The first month passed, then the second one. I got a feel for the house and for the dogs. I explored every inch from the attic where I found an old typewriter that my aunt must have used ages ago, down to the root cellar where I found row after row of canned goods. I tried my best to keep up with my old job, but somehow, it just didn't seem to matter much anymore. I moved the typewriter down to my aunt's old office and began practicing on it. The dogs seemed keenly interested when it would click and I would write. Occasionally, I would accompany them into the fenced in back yard. I would watch the younger ones run and jump while Pop just sat beside me and looked up to say is this really necessary. I know how he felt, it was as if life had slowed down for me too. After about 6 months I decided that I wasn't going back to the city anytime soon. So, I sent my boss a letter of resignation pending a month from date of receipt. They really didn't complain much given the fact that they were not really interested in my work anyway. I began to spend more and more time outback watching the world. The wide-open sky, the adjacent fields of corn near my 10 acers. I seemed to get into a rhythm with the world around me. I would go and visit my parents more often; the dogs always had to come. I could not go visiting without them. They were rambunctious and eager to explore new things. I got my aunts old bicycle and gave it some TLC. I would take the dogs to a local park and ride the trails with them in tow. It seemed as I was rediscovering myself. I also began to write articles about the local happenings and wouldn't you know it, the girl who works at th Kennel is the niece of the owner of the local paper. I started getting the occassional byline on page 3 or 4. It seems that no one over there likes writing fluff pieces much but the local seem to love reading about their local community. I even began the draft of a book, I didn't even know I had it in me. I guess my aunt knew what she was doing when she left me her home, the dogs and the money. My life isn't as fast paced as it used to be in Chicago, but I am more at peace it seems and the success I thought I wanted appears to be finding me. It isn't a front page on a major news paper, but local genere seems to be popular and the monthly stories about the dogs are a big hit as well. That is going to be the theme of my book. I am writing it about my aunt as the protaganist who has adventures with her dogs. I might not sound earth shaking, but I do believe from time to time, I can see my aunt's shade sitting in her favorite chair just smiling at me as she enjoys a cup of he favorite hot tea. It sends a light shiver down my spine but the dogs just sniff the chair and yip a bit. Then as if being guided, they go to their pillows and lay down waiting for their next adventure with who ever it is they follow.