When I woke up this morning, I had no idea how much my life would change today. I dragged myself out of bed and groggily started making my usual breakfast: oatmeal with fresh blueberries. I slid my favorite mug off the dish rack and opened the refrigerator to retrieve skim milk. Setting my oatmeal and milk on the table, I opened my phone to look up the morning's news.
"Multi-Billionaire President of Dream Technological Karen 'Karie' Stevens Dies Suddenly at the age of 65" The headline was big and bold at the top of every news webpage in my feed. I didn't know her personally, but I did have one of her company's laptops and one of their smartphones. I was surprised, but not too interested in reading more.
After surfing through the rest of the news, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and got dressed for class. I quickly collected all the items I prepared for my lunch last night and packed my lunch box before placing it in my backpack with my laptop, electronics chargers, and anything else I might need for the day.
I walked from my apartment to the bus stop thanking whoever is up there in the heavens that I do not have roommates. I wondered if Karie Stevens had any family, not remembering anything mentioned about it in the past. As I arrived at the bus stop I thought about how lonely it must have been for her if she didn't.
My mom left when I was little. My dad did what he could, but working two jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table took a lot out of him. I had to pick up a part-time job after school and on weekends to pay for college. The summer after my sophomore year at college, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer thanks to the asbestos and other contaminants he was exposed to while working odd jobs. I took a year off school to care for him and picked up a job to make enough money to cover the medical bills and eventually return to college. He passed away in April, and I spent this last summer learning how to go on without him.
The bus arrived at the Aviation Technology building at last, and I got off. I headed to room 340 and found a seat near the front next to the window. Because I had taken a year off, the student body has changed quite a bit. All of my previous acquaintances are stressed about finishing everything they need to graduate, and the batch of freshmen I remember teasing about being new are now my classmates. The instructor walked in about 5 minutes late.
"Welcome to AT342. In this class, we will be discussing..." Syllabus week is always fun. At least I didn't buy the book we don't need but was on the syllabus anyway. It's always good to wait until the end of syllabus week to buy class materials. The rest of the day is mostly the same. I sit down to eat lunch in the atrium and hear a familiar voice call out to me.
"Hey, Olivia. I was sorry to hear about your dad. How are you doing?"
"Oh, hi, Cas. Sorry I've been a little MIA lately." I consider Caspar my best friend and felt guilty that I didn't reach out while I was gone. "It's been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster lately. I miss him, but the time we spent together before it all went south was good, so at least I gained some closure."
"That's good. If you need to talk, you know where to find me, yeah?"
"Yeah. Thanks. I really appreciate it."
"I have to get to class, but I'll see you around."
"See you later." I opened my lunch box and pulled out a ham sandwich with Havarti cheese, red-leaf lettuce, and Campari tomatoes, my favorite. As I finished my sandwich, I watched people come and go through the atrium to get to their classes. I drank a bottle of water with my lunch as well, so before my next class, I filled it up at the water fountain. I notice my phone vibrate with a call from a restricted number. I decided that if it was important, they would leave a voicemail and walk to class, ignoring the call.
After three more classes, it was time to head home. I walked outside and was pleasantly surprised that the bus was on time this afternoon. As I stepped onto the bus I noticed that the caller from earlier had left a message. I listened carefully and was shocked by what the message contained.
"Hello, Miss Olivia Thomas. This is the lawyer representing the Estate of Mrs. Karen Stevens contacting you to inform you that you are invited to the reading of her will. Please meet me at my office Friday at three pm. I have sent you an email with all the other pertinent details. If you have any questions, call me back at the number listed in the email. Thank you, and have a nice day."
I was listed in the will of a multi-billionaire whom I had never met. How is that even possible? I wish I could call my dad for advice. He would know what to do in a situation like this. He always had the right words. Thinking about him like this makes me start to tear up. I get off the bus and slowly walk back to my apartment contemplating the meeting with the lawyer. He must have gotten a copy of my schedule somehow since the appointment was made for Friday afternoon when I have no conflicts.
I put dinner in the microwave (a serving of one of the large casseroles I received from the neighborhood ladies after my dad's funeral) and opened my laptop to check my email. Sure enough, I found an email from the lawyer.
"Hello, Miss Olivia Thomas.
This is the laser handling the Estate of Mrs. Karen Stevens.
Mrs. Stevens has named you in her will, which will be read to you and one other person on Friday, August 25, 2023, at 3:00 pm (Central Time). Please arrive at least 5 minutes early to check in at the front desk. See the bottom of this message for the address and phone number at which you can reach me.
Thank you,
Lee Finley
1+827-555-5555
Finley, Thorton, & Peterson at Law
115 North Russell Drive,
Suite 103
Chicago, IL, 60611"
Why would I be in this woman's will? And how did the lawyer find me so quickly? I guess I'll find out on Friday. Send a reply email thanking the lawyer for reaching out and shutdown my laptop. I finish my dinner and wash the dishes from the day before getting ready for bed. Tonight's shower was longer than usual thanks to the thoughts swarming around in my head. I took some melatonin and listened to a sleep meditation to get my mind off of the questions I had about the meeting on Friday.
Up early again for a 7:30 class, I go through my morning routine: Oatmeal and news, brush my teeth and wash my face, walk to the bus. I still haven't figured out how Karen Stevens knew who I am or how to contact me. It made me wonder about my mother. She left when I was so young, I hardly remember her. Maybe she was related to Mrs. Stevens somehow.
I allowed myself to wonder about the other person that would be at the meeting on Friday. Perhaps Mrs. Stevens had family after all, or at least a close friend. Who could it be? A handsome son she had hidden away from the prying eyes of the media? A secretary with a scandalous romantic history with her late husband? Her trusted confidant? The possibilities are so endless I almost missed my bus stop.