Читать книгу Sarah's Legacy - Valerie Sherrard - Страница 7

“What is it?” I asked anxiously. Mom looked dazed, which made her face hard to read. I couldn’t tell if the news in the rest of the letter was good or bad.

“Wait,” she said in a hushed voice. She was reading the letter again, as if she wasn’t sure she’d really understood what it said. When she finished going through it for the second time her fingers loosened and it fluttered to the table. Her hands were trembling.

“Oh, Sarah!” she whispered. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or referring to her great-aunt. Either way I was getting a bit impatient to know what it was all about. Then Mom took a deep breath and looked across the table at me. It seemed as if she was having a hard time focusing her eyes, the way she stared almost without seeing me.

“My aunt,” she began in a faltering voice, “has left us everything. Everything.”

“You mean money?” The first thought that came to me was that Mom wouldn’t have to work all those long shifts anymore. Then, I had a vision of us being rich and me being able to have all kinds of things we could never afford now. I felt a twinge of guilt for thinking so quickly about what I was going to get out of it.

“It sounds as if there’s some money,” Mom answered, “though I don’t know how much. But the big thing is her estate. She’s left us her home and all its contents. And her pets.”

“Her pets?”

“Apparently there’s a variety, though it doesn’t say exactly what. Probably a cat and dog or something. One of the conditions of the will is that we take care of them.”

“How will we get them here?” “We won’t. That’s the other condition.” Mom seemed to be working things out in her head and took a minute to continue. “In order to inherit the property, we have to live in the house at least until you complete your education. After that we’re free to sell it if we want to.”

I thought that was kind of weird, then realized there was a lot more at stake than this aunt’s oddities. “Where is it?” I asked quickly.

“A small city in New Brunswick called Miramichi.”

“Never heard of it,” I said, as if I could wish the place away like that. “Anyway, I don’t want to live in New Brunswick. I like Ontario.”

Mom looked cross then and told me I was being selfish. I could feel a lecture coming and I was right. She told me that this was a chance for us to have a house and for her not to have to kill herself working just to keep us going and there I was complaining at the idea of moving. Still, we’d lived in Ontario my whole life and the thought of going somewhere else made my stomach feel kind of sick.

“But all my friends are here,” I said sullenly. “I don’t want to move.”

“I see,” Mom said. Her lips had gone into a thin line, which always means she’s really angry. “So, you want me to write to this lawyer and tell her we don’t want the house?”

“I didn’t mean that,” I said, though I could see how it sounded as if that was exactly what I’d meant. “But I don’t understand why we can’t find a way around that part. If she left the place to us we should be allowed to do what we want with it.”

“As I’ve already told you, there are two conditions to the inheritance. One is that we live there, the other is that we take care of Sarah’s pets. If we aren’t prepared to do that, the house is to be sold and the money from the sale will be used to provide for the pets. When none of them are living, the remaining funds will go to a charity.”

“That’s stupid. It sounds like she cares more about her dumb animals than she does about us. Why’d she bother leaving us anything if that’s how she felt?”

“Well, Sarah, I imagine she loved her pets. Perhaps they were her only companions. But she obviously cared about us, too, or she wouldn’t have left us her house. Do you think we were ever going to have a home of our own on the money I make as a waitress?”

“I guess not.” It was starting to sink in. We were going to be moving, all right. I can’t say I was happy about it.

“Our own house,” Mom said. She had a faraway look on her face and seemed to be talking to herself again. “I wonder what it’s like.”

“You’ve never been there?”

“I’ve never even met my great-aunt,” Mom answered. “I remember seeing pictures of her at my grandfather’s house, though. It seems she was something of a recluse.”

“What’s that?”

“A recluse? Someone who doesn’t like to be around other people. I vaguely recall hearing the story of how she went to New Brunswick when she was around twenty, which was quite a thing for a woman on her own in those days. I don’t think anyone ever saw her again after that. The only contact was an occasional letter.”

This aunt was sounding more and more like a weirdo, if you ask me. I could picture her, old and alone, petting her stupid animals and talking to herself.

“I don’t care where she went or what she did,” I said, “she doesn’t have the right to force people to live somewhere they don’t want to go.”

“Now, Sarah. This is hardly the worst thing in the world, you know. You might even like living in New Brunswick.”

“I’ll hate it,” I said firmly. I added “and I hate her” to that, but only in my head.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to the idea, and fast.” Mom sighed and stood up. “I’ll be calling the lawyer tomorrow and making arrangements. If everything goes well, we should be moving by the end of next week.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that we’d be leaving so soon. I mumbled something about waiting until the end of the school year, which was a few months away, but Mom just gave me a look. It was one of those looks that tell you there’s not going to be any more discussion on the matter.

I stomped off to my room and lay on the bed sulking. The more I thought about the whole thing, the angrier I got. What gave this old woman we’d never even met the right to decide where we were going to live? It wasn’t fair!

Mom came in later to say good night but I pretended I was already asleep.