He used a letter opener to slit the envelope.
I watched as he read. My eyes flitted from his expression to his suit to his perfect, graying hair. I saw nothing to give me alarm. In fact, his eyes seemed kind. My tension eased again.
When he was done reading, he said, “So, it’s been a little more than a year since you were last here. How are you doing? How’s your grandmother?”
“She’s well.”
“I only met her once. Quite a lady.”
“What exactly is your relationship with my grandparents? Why do you manage their financial affairs?”
He nodded. “When we met before we discussed your grandfather. You know I had a lot of respect for him. He didn’t want to be troubled with financial management, but neither was he the kind of man to neglect his responsibilities. His biggest concern was that his family be provided for, now and in the long term.”
I waited.
Mr. Browne leaned back. His tone softened. “After your mother died, I think your grandfather recognized that anything could happen to anyone—something we would all do well to keep in mind—and he knew your grandmother wouldn’t be able to manage in a real-world kind of way.
“As for him, I think he’d lost the heart for it years before. He’d left most of his business affairs in the hands of my father. I joined my father’s practice early in my career and then took it over when he retired. I know how strange this must seem to you, but I feel as if I’ve known your family for many, many years.”
Still, I waited.
“Your grandparents lived simply. Very. They had assets that they’ve drawn on but in a very small way, thus money isn’t an issue. You should know this in case it becomes . . . I’m thinking mostly of your grandmother and her health, but also of your daughter. Life happens whether we’re ready or not.” He reached into a drawer. “Your grandmother called a few days ago and asked me to explain to you the details of the property and the will.”
I hugged my purse harder. I’d known there was a will. Regardless of their financial situation, there was land and the house and outbuildings. I was the only heir. What needed explaining?
He took two documents out of the drawer. One was trifolded. The other was in a fat white envelope. He laid the envelope on his desk and patted it. “You don’t need to do anything about the will. This is a copy for you. It’s very straightforward. You are the sole heir, of course.”
No surprise there. So what was the big deal? Yet clearly something was, because his demeanor became increasingly serious, and as his frown grew, I fought the urge to jump up and run.
He unfolded the other document and laid it on his desk. “This document is a conveyance of property. Your grandmother is conveying the ownership of the land, house, and all outbuildings, et cetera, to you.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. I always knew Cooper’s Hollow would be mine when she passed, but she’s giving it to me now?”
He paused a moment. I could see him thinking. Finally, he said, “Your grandparents added you to all their accounts before your grandfather died. Joint ownership. Your grandmother asked me to change that over to you, as the sole owner where appropriate. Some accounts are payable on death and can stay as is. She asked me to review this information with you.”
I saw the acreage spelled out, and I saw the plat. He showed me the list of accounts—he called it an investment portfolio—and the income from their stocks and bonds. It all whirled around my head. Though I was seated, I gripped the edge of his desk to steady myself.
“You may remember signing documents before your grandfather died?”
“I”—I took a deep breath and tried again—“I remember. He said it was a just-in-case kind of thing. In case something happened to him and Gran. He didn’t say . . .” I ran out of words and stopped.
Mr. Browne continued. “An accountant in Louisa has been doing the state and federal taxes each year, and I ensure those taxes, and other bills, are paid. Unless or until you choose to make a change in our arrangement, I’ll continue seeing that it’s handled. I’m happy to meet with you anytime and review it again, and in more depth. You look overwhelmed.”
“I am, and I’m confused, Mr. Browne. I feel like I’m missing something.” I shook my head again. “We’re poor. We didn’t mind doing without because we had what we needed and more. But this . . . There’s money. I don’t understand.”
“The estate built over the years. As I said, my father managed it before me. In addition to other monies, there were life insurance policies that were paid out and invested.”
“For my grandfather.”
He nodded. “And your parents.” He looked away and cleared his throat, then turned back. “Your grandparents couldn’t bring themselves to spend the money, considering how it came to them. There is something else. Your grandmother asked me to speak with you about your mother and father.”
My mouth was so dry I couldn’t form any words. I picked up the bottle of water and twisted off the cap. I took a few slow sips. The water was cold. Not as good as our well water, but it eased my parched mouth and throat. I closed my eyes and drank a little more.
“She wanted me to tell you about their deaths.”
I set the bottle back on his desk. “I know about all of that. They died in a car crash soon after I was born. They were on a trip. I know because I asked Grand when I was a child. I wanted to see where the accident happened, and they told me it was a narrow winding road somewhere along the Shenandoah River. They didn’t know exactly where. My grandparents didn’t like to talk about it.”
He shook his head. “I advised them to tell you the truth years ago. My father did, too, before he passed. It’s a wonder you never heard of it from other kids in school or from other sources. Your grandfather wouldn’t tell you without your grandmother’s approval.
“I’m sure she wanted it to come from her and your grandfather. But obviously she can’t do it, and she has asked me to tell you the story.”
He’d urged them to tell me the truth? What truth?
I wanted to leave. How ridiculous would I look if I simply got up and moved toward that closed door? I looked at Mr. Browne, assessing. Was that pity I saw in his eyes?
“Hannah, your father wasn’t from around here. He was new in town, a laborer, picking up work where he could find it, when he met your mother. I never knew either of them, but my father said your mother was a sweet, kind, beautiful young woman. Perhaps she saw his wounded nature, and it drew her in. We’ll never know. I understand he was handsome and courteous. If he hadn’t been, your grandfather would’ve run him off one way or the other, but he had everyone fooled.