Underhanded Ursula WC 299

Underhanded Ursula

We were sitting at our mother’s kitchen table. I looked over the handwritten will in disbelief. My sister, Ursula, watched with a bit of a smirk sneaking around the edges of her lips.

“What does this mean?”

“Just what it says,” was Ursula’s hair-trigger answer. “She left me everything!”

“Mom would not have written this.”

“Well, she did! She liked me best. Too bad you can’t ask her if it’s the real deal.”

Our mother had recently passed away.

“It is notarized, Bonnie!” she said pointing to the official stamp.

It was dated three months earlier. Knowing my sister, it had been written under duress, but I could not prove it.

“I need to run this by her attorney,” I said.

As executor of our mother’s estate, this was my duty.

“The expense is on you, Bonnie.”

I needed to show this document to Mr. Parker, our mother’s attorney.

Ursula is money-hungry. And she has a reputation for being underhanded. When our mother was healthy, she put me in charge of her final affairs because of my sister’s tendencies.

My cell phone rang. The caller ID showed the attorney's name I was going to call.

“Hello Mr. Parker, I was just going to call you. My sister found my mother’s will and—”

Mr. Parker interrupted. “I have her will, Bonnie…”

He filled me in. When he finished, we made an appointment for the next day.

“So, Arlene, he has the most recent will and we’ll go over it tomorrow at his office at two pm. I hope you can make it.”

“Fine!” she said and stormed out the front door.

I won’t tell you what else she said. It wasn’t very nice.

As sick as she was, my mother still protected me.