Those 70ish Girls

The house…

I had just asked Aunt Marti if there was a reason, other than the 10 year age difference, that she and my mother had not been close.

“We will talk about all of that in good time,” Aunt Marti said. “But right now, I must tell you a few things concerning what will be taking place here this afternoon. My hope is that all of my nieces and nephews will be present at the meeting that Tara has been good enough to arrange. She was given some directions from my attorney. You will all be given a letter from me and you will be reading my will.”

“According to Tara, all of the cousins will be meeting here at 3:00 pm,” I offered.

“Perfect,” Aunt Marti said with a dramatic flash of her eyes.  I had seen that same expression many times on my mother’s face. As if reading my mind, Aunt Marti continued. “Your mother was different from the rest of us and sometimes the things she said and did didn’t set well with me. As the eldest of 4 children, I always felt as though the other girls’ behavior was more or less my responsibility.”

“Speaking from my own experience of living with Mom, I said. “I can understand your comment. Mom’s behavior sometimes pushed the envelope.” (I was secretly amused by my mother’s outlandish ways, but I didn’t share that with my aunt.)

“I must leave you now,” Aunt Marti said as she rose from the chair and picked up the tray with the tea and muffins. “But before I go, I need to tell you that I left you this property. I do hope you will give staying here in Pleasant Run a lot of thought before you get the news formerly at the meeting today. This house has a story to tell, and I believe it will tell you all of its secrets.”

“I don’t know what to say, Aunt Marti. Why would you give me your house?” I was surprised, to say the least.

“It’s all in the letter,” she answered. “And you can say goodbye.”