Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

70. Inheritance

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Dad manages to catch her before she falls, but it still doesn't answer as to what amount is written on the piece of paper.

"Honey," he says, shaking her. "Are you alright?"

My mother's eyelids flutter as she regains consciousness, and Brooklyn is at her side with a glass of water.

"Mum?" Marnie speaks up, concerned about our mother.

"I – I'm fine. I just," she stops, taking a sip of water that she is handed. "Ben, read it. Read what's on the paper," my mother exclaims weakly, tears forming in her eyes.

He picks up the document that has fallen to the floor and his eyes scan quickly from left to right, taking in the information.

"Oh Christ," he mutters under his breath.

Way to go Dad. The one place you decide to take Jesus' name in vain is in one of the holiest places in Melbourne. Right on.

He sets it down on the table. Wordlessly my mother holds out the water, and he takes it, finishing off the glass.

What the fuck is going on?

"Can someone please tell me what is happening?" Marnie says, voicing what is on the minds of us three who are currently left in the dark.

Brooklyn takes the letter, and Marnie and I huddle around so we can all read.

I skip past all the legal jargon that is absolute gibberish to me, until I find words that I can actually understand.

"To each of our grandchildren we bequeath the sum of twenty two million dollars to be distributed when they are eighteen years of age."

What the fuck?!

I use the document to fan myself.

"This isn't happening. This can't be happening," I say out loud, but directed to myself.

I get up and pace the room. I can't be expected to stay seated after reading something like that.

Things like this doesn't happen to people like me.

Twenty two million dollars!

I repeat it over and over in my head and I can't even fathom having that amount of money. That can literally set me up for life and more, and opens possibilities to me that I've never had before. I've never struggled with money – we do okay as my parent's do quite well for themselves, but this is beyond even that. The amount of money we are set to receive in comparison makes us look almost bankrupt. I would never have to worry about money again with those kinds of figures in my bank account. I read the last paragraph of the article,

"And to our sole daughter Charlotte, we bequeath to you the sum of 48 million dollars."

Mr. Cohen clears his throat, "I understand this is a lot to take in, but there is also a matter of the estates," as he hands another document to my mother, and she reads aloud, her voice quavering as she speaks,

"We devise, bequeath, and give the remainder of our estate and investments to our daughter to keep, sell, or divide as she sees fit."

She continues to read out the lists of companies, many properties both in Australia and all over the world, chateaus, yachts, cars, and priceless collectible art, though nothing is sinking in at the moment.