In response to many requests that I've patiently and obnoxiously ignored, I have finally decided to post an excerpt from the first chapter of my work-in-progress-supposed-to-be-my-first-if-I-ever-finish-it book. This hasn't been completely edited, but I am relatively sure that it will appear in the final draft.
Claudia Snow’s back was unbearably stiff. The drive from Philadelphia had taken two days, and she was tired and sore. She looked forward to hearing what the lawyer had to say and then driving straight back to her room at the one motel in town. The Cypress Inn might have looked like something out of a 1960’s film, but at least it had a functioning, noisy air conditioner.
The lawyer’s office was swelteringly hot, and it was musty, as if the windows hadn’t been opened in years. Framed certificates that were at least half a century old and non-descript oil paintings hung on what wall space was available between massive bookshelves. Brass lamps and statuettes sat on every surface not covered by books and papers. The leather couch crammed against the wall had several deep cracks on the cushions. It was the exact thing she imagined when she thought of a small town lawyer’s office in the Deep South.
Claudia was anxious and had been since she received a phone call from the Toupolas, Louisana office of James Mason, attorney at law. Her distant cousin, Charles Purvell, had passed away in a nursing home in Baton Rouge, and Claudia was included in his will. Claudia had known nothing about her late cousin, up to and including the fact that he had existed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a monumental mistake that would end in nothing but inconvenience and a lot of disappointment. There was something absurd and awkward at how quickly she’d found herself sitting in an uncomfortable faux leather chair, sweating, and preparing herself for the whole mistake to unravel.
James Mason, family attorney, sat across from Claudia, shuffling papers around in a haphazard way and talking to himself. The glaring Southern sun filtered in from the window behind his desk, making beads of sweat run down his forehead and slide onto the bridge of his nose. His glasses slipped further and further down until Claudia was sure they’d fall right off his face. She distractedly wondered whether or not Mr. Mason would notice their departure.
Lists of items, hand written notes, letters typed on paper so thin it was nearly opaque, and scrawled notes on scrap sheets were scattered about as Mr. Mason searched for, Claudia assumed, Charles Purvell’s will.
“It was here last week, and I saw the damn thing. Right here….” Mr. Mason mumbled. “That blasted thing. Maybe I…” He grunted to himself and pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk. He continued to mutter half sentences until he gave a wheeze of satisfaction and straightened up, a well creased legal folder in his hand.
“Now, Ms. Snow, here we are! I knew I had it somewhere.” Mr. Mason boomed. His Southern accent fell harshly on Claudia’s ears. “I put the dadgummed thing where I wouldn’t forget it, and that’s precisely what I did. So,“ he adjusted his glasses, and settled himself comfortably. “on to business.”
Claudia tried to breathe deeply and failed.
“Your cousin, some generations removed I believe, Charlie Purvell, was a client of mine for over thirty years. He was a good man, and one of the first friends I made when I settled here from Birmingham. He was a good man…. I know you told my secretary you didn’t know him personally, but I just thought you should know.” Claudia didn’t have a hard time imagining the secretary, an iron grey haired lady with cat eye glasses hanging from a gold chain and bright pink lipstick, relating every detail of their conversation to Mr. Mason and to anyone else who would listen.
“He was a good man.” Mr. Mason repeated with heavy emphasis. His grey eyes were full of formal sympathy. It was a look that belonged across the grave of a dearly departed family member, not the wrinkled will of a complete stranger. Claudia shifted uncomfortably and tried to break away from the lawyer’s gaze as he continued with Charles Purvell’s story.
“He was sick for a long time before he passed. He had a stroke back in ‘97, and he moved to a nursing home. He wasn’t close to most of his family, and he didn’t want to burden the ones he did know, so he figured he could find a place in Baton Rouge where he could be comfortable.”
Claudia nodded and tried to breathe again. She was a very patient person and was never this ill tempered, but, try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to care about what the old lawyer was telling her. She knew she’d most likely regret not asking questions later, but later was later. Now was now, and she couldn’t breathe. A heat headache started to form behind her eyes.
“Now, your cousin left very detailed instructions on what he wanted left where. There were some odds and ends he gave out, and a small sum of money he donated to a couple of charities, but he left the rest of it to you.”
Claudia was stunned. A moment of empty silence was swallowed by the airless room. “What? I’m sorry. He left me what?”
“Well,” Mr. Mason began shuffling through the contents to the folder. “He left you pretty much everything.”
“What would that consist of? I don’t know what my cousin owned. I don’t mean to sound stupid, but I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re telling me.”
James Mason made a broad gesture with his right hand, sweeping over the stacks of files and papers on his desk as if they were the entirety of Charles Purvell’s estate. “Oh, he kept it all when he moved to Baton Rouge - the house, the car, his property. He was a wealthy man, and it looks like you’re a wealthy young woman.”
Claudia shook her head. “This can’t be right.” Instead of excitement or elation, she felt only a numbing sense of confusion. “Why me? I never knew him. I don’t even know how he knew I was born.”
“That, Ms. Snow, I can’t answer. He was a strange man sometimes. He was my friend, but he was a strange man. He knew enough about you to know that he should leave you everything he owned. Now, if you’d like to get started, there’s a big stack of paperwork you’re going to need to sign.”
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