Sarah's Legacy (4 page)

Mom gave her the name of the hotel. She sounded worried. Then Ms. Standing looked at her closely and asked if we were all right for money.

“I guess we can manage for a few days,” Mom said, but her voice was unconvincing. I knew that four nights in a hotel, plus meals, would cost more than what we had left but she didn't want to admit that.

“Well, let's just make things a bit simpler.” Ms. Standing pressed a button on her desk and a moment later the receptionist appeared.

“Angela, would you call the Gilmores' hotel and have them bill their room to my office?” Then she assured Mom it was no problem and she'd just add the cost to her bill.

“Your bill,” Mom echoed, looking very uncomfortable. “Will it be very much?”

“Don't worry about that.” She smiled. “It will just come off the money that's been left to you, along with the house.”

“You haven't clarified that, I mean, how much money is actually involved?”

“Of course, I won't have an exact figure for you until everything is settled,” Ms. Standing said. She was smiling, which was no wonder since she was about to
deliver very good news. “I can tell you, however, that it will be somewhere in the neighbourhood of thirty-seven thousand dollars.”

Mom started to cry.

Thirty-seven thousand dollars! After all the years of watching every penny, it sounded like a million to us. When we left Ms. Standing's office we were both practically in shock. We walked slowly along Wellington Street, stopped to admire our house again, and then went back toward the park. Every so far we paused and looked at each other and said that we couldn't believe it. That wasn't quite true; we did believe it, but it was going to take a while to totally sink in.

“Are we rich?” I asked as we went by the park.

“Not by a long shot. But it will certainly keep us going until I can find work. Still, we'll have to be careful with it just the same.”

“Will we get a car?” We'd never had a car and I'd always thought how wonderful it would be to be able
to go wherever you wanted whenever you wanted to.

“Yes, we'll have a car. And you'll have a computer.”

As we continued walking I couldn't help thinking that a few weeks ago all of these things would have seemed impossible. We'd managed on so little for so long that it was going to be hard to get used to having things.

“There's one thing I can't figure out. Why did Aunt Sarah leave everything to me?” Mom wondered aloud, breaking into my thoughts. “I can't understand it. There are lots of kin she could have named as her heirs.”

That
was
kind of puzzling. It's not as though we were closer to her than the others. We didn't even know her! I wondered if any of her relatives had ever visited or written to her or anything. Then an idea popped into my head.

“Maybe it's because she thought I was named after her,” I suggested.

“You could be right. I hadn't even thought of that. But I guess we'll never know for sure.”

“Hi gals, how's she going?” a man's voice called from across the street.

When we looked over, we saw that the odd greeting had come from Stan, who had pulled his car up to the curb opposite to where we were standing.

“Oh, hello.” Mom gave a little wave.

“I was just driving along when I spied the two of you.” He nodded as if to prove what he was saying was
true. “How'd you make out? Did you like what you saw of Chatham?”

“It seems very nice.”

“Good then, great.” More nodding. “If you're ready to go back to Newcastle, I'm on my way there now.”

Mom hesitated for a second and then told him it would be much appreciated. We crossed the street and climbed into the car. We'd hardly pulled away from the curb when Stan asked a question that surprised us both.

“I guess you must be the pair who've inherited old Sarah Wentworth's place, then, are you?”

“We are,” Mom said in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“Ah, you can't keep nothing secret around here.”

“Anything,” Mom said automatically. I almost burst out laughing and just kept it in by taking a deep breath and holding it. Mom is so used to correcting my grammar that she sometimes slips and does it with other people too.

“Huh?” Stan had missed her meaning.

“Oh, don't pay me any mind. I was just thinking out loud.” Mom gave me a warning look that suggested I keep my amusement under control. “Anyway, how was it that you heard we'd inherited my great-aunt's estate?”

Rather than being embarrassed about admitting that he'd been listening to gossip about us, Stan seemed proud to have gotten the information. He launched into an explanation of how he'd been talking to someone
who'd heard it from a neighbour who, in turn, had gotten the news from someone else. It sounded as if all the details of our lives had been passed about and discussed by the whole city. And we'd been there for less than six hours!

“I see,” Mom said coldly. Almost anyone should have been able to tell that she was annoyed to find herself the centre of so much attention from people she didn't even know. Not Stan, though. He beamed and went on about how he'd put two and two together and concluded that we were the ones moving into the Wentworth house. I thought his pride over it was a bit ridiculous. After all, he'd dropped us off there that morning; it wouldn't take a towering genius to figure out that we were the folks inheriting the place.

It wasn't long before he switched from boasting about his powers of deduction to fishing for information. Mom was deliberately vague when she replied to anything he asked and I could see he was disappointed that he wasn't getting any juicy details about us. I suppose the fact that he'd met us gave him a place of importance among the gossips and he was keen to have something interesting to add to the circulating stories. Well, he didn't get anything from Mom!

She was obviously relieved to get away from his questions when we got back to the part of Miramichi that locals still called Newcastle. He offered to take us
right to wherever we were staying but Mom is too cautious for that. Instead of letting him know what hotel we were at, she told him to drop us off downtown.

“We'll look around a bit and get some dinner first,” she said casually. “We can walk back to our hotel later on.”

Stan nodded and smiled and recommended The Scoreboard as having good food and reasonable prices. Underneath his parting friendliness, though, I sensed a twinge of annoyance that he wouldn't even be able to tell people where we were staying. It gave me a feeling of satisfaction to know that he'd completely failed in his quest for information.

“By the way, the last name is Reynolds,” he said as we got out of the car. “I'm in the phone book. You be sure to call if you need anything. Anything at all.”

Mom thanked him for everything and said she'd keep the offer in mind. She sounded so sincere that I'd have believed her if I didn't know better. There was no way she was
ever
going to call Stan.

We'd seen the last of him and his nodding head.

It was actually the next Wednesday morning before we got to move into Aunt Sarah's house. Well, it's our house now, though I suppose it will take a while before I start thinking of it that way. Mom said I could have any bedroom I wanted and I picked one of the two with a fireplace. I chose the smaller of those (which is still huge compared to most bedrooms) because it has shelves built right into the wall. There was also a big old-fashioned desk and I could picture my computer sitting on it. My bed was enormous too! Even though we were busy, I couldn't resist sprawling across it and rolling around for a minute. After years of having a narrow bed that was pretty cool.

It didn't take much time to unpack the few things we'd brought with us. Then we did some laundry, mostly
the sheets and blankets from our beds, and cleaned the kitchen and our bedrooms. Right after lunch Mom took me to register for my new school.

When the form was filled out we walked up the street to Dr. Losier Middle School, which is only a few minutes away from the office where we'd registered. The principal said I could start the next morning and gave me a booklet about school rules.

We did some grocery shopping after that and then took a taxi back to the house. I unpacked the food and nearly dropped the eggs when Rosie wandered through the kitchen. It was the first time I'd actually seen her and the sight of a skunk waddling along wasn't exactly something I'd ever been used to.

She looked at me as if to say “what's your problem?” and then continued on to her dish — the only one that's not kept in the pantry. I must admit she's beautiful, though rather chubby. Maybe that's normal for skunks, I wouldn't know, but she's as round as a ball.

Rosie took her time eating and then wandered back off, probably to sleep off her food, as that seems to be her main daytime activity. I heard Stoolie tell her to mind her own business as she passed by him.

Mom and I cooked pork chops and potatoes and broccoli for dinner, which is one of my favourite meals. Once we'd eaten we did some more cleaning and then went to bed.

I had a hard time falling asleep that night. It was so strange to be in this huge house and to know it was really ours. So much had happened in the past two weeks. On top of that, I was nervous about going to a new school where I didn't know anyone. It made me think of my friends back in Ontario, which caused a big lump to grow in my throat. As I lay in bed trying not to cry, I wondered if they missed me too.

The next morning I dawdled over my breakfast until Mom got impatient and told me I was going to school and that was all there was to it. I don't know how she knew I was trying to think up some excuse to wait for another day. Moms are weird like that. It's as if they can actually read your mind sometimes.

The bell had already rung by the time I finally got there, which was when I realized my mistake in being so slow. Instead of getting to class at the same time as everyone else, I was going to have to walk in when the other kids were already at their desks.

It was all I could do not to turn around and go back home. Facing Mom would be much easier than facing a bunch of strangers. Surely I could think of some legitimate reason that I hadn't gone to class. But before I could do anything a teacher came along. She asked me who I was, took me to the office, and got the vice-principal.

The vice-principal took me to my new homeroom. As we walked down the hallway he gave me a quick
lecture on the importance of getting to school on time and said he hoped I wasn't going to make a habit of being tardy. Then, as if he thought maybe he'd been too stern, he smiled and added that he was sure it wouldn't be a problem.

My homeroom teacher, Mrs. McCloskey, was a tiny woman with a squeaky voice. I cringed inwardly as she introduced me.

“Class, we have a new student,” she announced perkily. “This is Sarah Gilmore. I want everyone to make Sarah feel very welcome here at Dr. Losier.”

There were mumbles that could have meant anything from a few of the students. Mostly they just stared as if I were a bug under a display glass. I felt awkward in my jeans and T-shirt and wished Mom and I had been able to go shopping for some new clothes, but the lawyer hadn't finished straightening out the money yet. My outfit felt old and worn and I blushed as the other kids looked me over.

It was with relief that I took the seat Mrs. McCloskey assigned me. I opened my books and kept my eyes glued to them, trying to ignore the inquisitive looks from my new classmates. I decided that, no matter what, I was going back home at lunchtime. I'd tell Mom I felt sick to my stomach, which wasn't really a lie.

Our second-period class was in another part of the building, and as I walked along, deliberately trailing
behind the others, a couple of the kids from my class joined me.

“I'm Ashley,” one of them said cheerfully. “And this is Jamie.

“Hi,” I mumbled, wishing they'd leave me alone.

“Where you from?”

“Ontario.”

“Oh, yeah? Like, Toronto?”

“No.” I couldn't help thinking that was a dumb thing to assume. Did the kids in New Brunswick think that Toronto was the only place in Ontario? “We lived in a small town near Belleville.”

“Oh, yeah? Cool.”

I had no idea why she thought that was cool, but I didn't say anything. I figured if I stayed quiet they'd take the hint and go away. I was wrong.

They talked all the way to the next class, mostly asking questions. Did I walk to school or take a bus? Did I have a boyfriend in Ontario? Who was my favourite music group? I gave one-word answers as much as possible, feeling more and more annoyed.

Even worse, when the noon hour came, they rushed over to me, one taking each arm.

“You can eat with us,” Ashley said. I tried to protest but it was impossible to escape. They dragged me to the cafeteria, offering advice on what to buy for lunch. I fumbled in my pocket for the three dollars Mom had
given me. Since I was trapped, I decided that I might as well eat before I went home. Maybe I could convince Mom that the food had upset my stomach.

I had to admit that I actually felt better after I'd had lunch. Besides, by then I'd decided that Ashley and Jamie weren't so bad after all. They were just trying to be friendly and it
was
kind of nice to have someone to sit with in the cafeteria.

Ashley told me that they were going to the mall after school on Friday and asked if I wanted to go with them.

“There's an
awesome
sale on at Suzy Shier,” Jamie added. “You can use my Prestige card if you see something you want.”

The thought of picking out some new outfits was tempting, even though I knew there was no money to buy anything yet. I wondered if Mom could afford to give me enough money to put a few things on layaway. Even if she couldn't, it wouldn't hurt to have a look. I said I'd ask my mother if I could go and let them know.