by RaeLynn Fry
“Who’s that?” he asked.
I shrugged, skimming over the text for an answer. “How would I know?”
“Keep reading.” He poked me in the shoulder. I swatted him away.
My eyes turned back to the top of the page. “I, Titus Papadakis, being of sound mind…do hereby make, publish…my Last Will and Testament…”
“Find a good part.” He forced a yawn. Ugh. My brother was such a bad actor.
I wadded through the legal jargon to what I thought might be good. “I give to Channing Demetriou...my estate, White Isle, in its entirety, with one requirement,. Channing and children, Sethos and Polexia Demetriou, must take possession of said property within two days time of execution of this will.”
We stood silent. The thought of getting a free place to live--big enough to have its own name--was more than we could process. No more small apartment, no more shared bathroom. No more stress for our mom about having to come up with the money for next month’s rent.
“A whole house?" Seth was beyond belief. "We just got an entire house--for free?”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
“It’s like winning the lottery!” He held up a hand for me to high five.
“Yeah, except that someone had to die, first.”
His hand dropped. “You’re such a downer.” Seth frowned and wrinkled his brow. Even with that face, he was a handsome guy.
“Just being realistic,” I said.
He was quiet for longer than I’d have thought possible before he spoke again. “Why would a stranger give us their house?”
It was the same question I’d been thinking. I scanned the will again, trying to sort out the answer. I felt the color slide from her already pale face. “Because he's our uncle.”
“What? You’re reading it wrong.” Seth snatched the will out of my loosening fingers. His eyes went straight to the bottom of the page. I knew what he was looking at--a blank line for our mother’s signature. Next to that was something to the effect of relation to testator--or person who had the will drawn up. Filled in that blank was the word sibling.
“Our mother had a brother, and in sixteen years, never mentioned him once?”
“Makes you wonder what else she's been hiding.” I narrowed my eyes at the back of the paper.
“Like what?” Seth crossed his arms, a warning to his voice.
“Like Dad?”
“Not this again.” He let his chin drop against his chest.
“She never mentions him and whenever we ask, she always clams up.” I took back the piece of paper and slipped it inside the envelope, slamming it on the counter. “She lied about an uncle; she could be lying about Dad. I think there’s more to the story then him dying in a car accident and for whatever reason she’s not telling us. I’m going to ask her about it.”
“Let me know when you plan that sneak attack, because I'm steering clear.”
“Don’t you think finding out about our family is worth making Mom a little uncomfortable?” I challenged. Seth thought a little too long for my liking. “Well, it is,” I answered for him. “I want to know why we don’t have any pictures of our family. I want to know about our history and our home--where we were born. I want to know where I fit in.”
Seth’s eyes softened.
For all the differences we had and all the annoyance we caused each other, this was a soft spot. It was easy for Seth not to question the story our mom had told us their entire lives. He looked exactly like their mom--dark hair, olive skin, slightly slanted eyes. He even had the same sharp nose she did. I looked nothing like my mother’s daughter or my brother’s sister--let alone his twin. I hated always feeling like an outsider in my own family. For years, I'd told myself I was adopted. And now it seemed the story I'd believed for sixteen years could be changing.
“Okay.” Seth pulled me into a hug. “When Mom gets home tonight, we’ll talk to her about the will and about this Uncle Titus guy. But I think we should wait on Dad. One step at a time.”
###END###