Elbow Grease

My Grandfather's Last Will and Testament is Really Screwed Up

I was laying on my bed. I had wiped off all my makeup when I got home. Or at least, what was left of it. I changed into my sweatpants and put my hair up into a messy bun. Tissues scattered the room.  My phone was blowing up. I was getting tagged left and right, in almost everyone's Instagram posts. They all posted a video of me slapping Jocelyn. The captions were things like, #messinwiththebear or #dontbeaslut. The first day of summer, had been terrible. Besides acting like someone just broke up with me, and the viral video of me, not much had happened.

My mom would come up to my room every now and then to check in. She was worse off than I was. About halfway through the day, she came in and told me to clean myself up.

"Go shower, put on your makeup and wear the pretty black dress that you wore for your chorus concert. We are going to the reading of your grandfather's-" her voice choked mid-sentence.  She turned around and left the room.  So I got up, and walked into the bathroom that was next to my room. I looked in the mirror and sighed. I then peeled off my sweatpants, shirt, and underwear and hopped in the shower. The water was absolutely freezing, and I could feel the goosebumps forming on my arms. I quickly grabbed the soap and hurriedly finished my shower.

I looked at the mirror. Again. I sighed. Again. Why couldn't I be pretty like Rylen? Why couldn't I have gorgeous eyes like Erin? Both of them had boyfriends now, and I guess I'll be single forever. I did my makeup exactly like how my mom does. I remember when my grandfather volunteered to teach me how to apply makeup and got it all over my face. I chuckled at the memory, and then realized that he wasn't there to chuckle with me. Feeling depressed, I went into my walk-in closet and found the dress my mom wanted me to wear. Quickly, I changed into it. It was a black lace dress that covered my ankles. I paired it with some black flats. I went looked into my full body mirror and sighed. For the third time because I'm really, really, insecure about myself.

I had started to braid my hair when my mom knocked on the door.  I shook my hair out and walked out of my closet and threw open the door. My mom was standing there. Her large frame seemed more deflated than before. 

"You almost ready hon? I want to leave as soon as possible," She began.

"Mom, I started getting ready about five minutes ago, give me a break!" I stormed back into my room and restarted the braid that I began moments earlier. My mom rolled her eyes and mumbled something that sounded like, "moody teenagers" and walked off. When my braid was done, I ran downstairs to the garage. My mom was waiting for me in the car. As we pulled out of the driveway, I admired what I had. A large house, a nice car, a shelled driveway and black gates.  Everything we had was given to us by my grandfather. But we were going to read his will. This isn't all he wanted to give us. This realization hit me harder than a brick. 

It was a long drive to the courthouse. The silence between my mom and I was really awkward. I had nothing else to do but look out the window. I hate looking out car windows, but, there I was. Looking out a car window pretending I was in a music video. My brain started blaring Ed Sheeran.  My head began nodding back and forth, earning me a rude side-glare from my mom.

When we arrived at the courthouse, my uncles car was already there. My uncle and cousins poured out of the minivan. My cousins were all too little to understand what happened.  My uncle nodded at my mom, as though they were about to save the world in a dramatic Rom-Com. We walked in together, my cousin Manda screaming in the background. When we opened the door, our lawyer greeted us and ushered us into a dark wooden room with black leather couches. I took a seat next to my cousin Joey, who was the oldest. He was also eight.

The lawyer cleared his throat. "It is to my great dismay that Mr. Tyler Croft has passed. He was a great man. With your permission, I will continue." My mom nodded. "The first part of the will starts simply. To my granddaughter, Tamara Croft, I give the lion share of my wealth. She gets my estate, my four cars, my private jet, and my beloved and coveted hotdog stand. The same hotdog stand that began my career. And to my daughter, Lisa, you are in control of her assets until she turns Eighteen. To my son, Carl, I believe that you are a disappointment, and you are to be disowned if and when I die." The lawyer stopped, stood up, and escorted me out of the room. I could see the look of hatred, dismay, and disbelief on my uncle's face. I smiled. My grandfather's will, was really screwed up.