“Of course. I can get you a copy.”
“I assume there aren’t any conditions to how I choose to renovate the home?”
“As long as the original framework of the house remains intact, there are no other stipulations.”
“Alright,” I say. “I won’t be able to make it down to Texas for a week or two. I have to handle some business up here.”
“Of course.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. Handing it to me, he says, “Call me when you’re coming into town, and I’ll meet you at the house with a notary, and we will hammer out all the paperwork.”
I nod. “And just email or fax me a copy of the will at your earliest convenience.”
“Will do, Ms. Mathis.”
He starts to stand up to leave.
“Oh, and Mr. Abernathy?”
“I’m going to need the name of that handyman.”
“Duke?Dude,areyoueven listening to me?” My brother, Devon, snaps his fingers in front of my face.
I know he’s annoyed with me, but I can’t help but tune out. I’m tired as fuck, and he’s going on and on about his girlfriend who just broke up with him… again.
That’s all he ever does.
“Sorry, Dev,” I say. “Just tired. I’m listening.”
When my younger brother invited me out for a beer, I should have known it was so that he could bitch to someone. Our youngest brother, Tanner, must be busy. He’s a better sounding board than I will ever be.
And he’s far better with women than I am.
Twenty years as a Navy SEAL has given me my fair share of one-night stands but never anything more serious. Most women don’t want to deal with the scarred mess known as Duke Samson.
I don’t blame them.
I wouldn’t want to put up with my shit, either.
Devon asks, “So, what do you think I should do about Kyra?”
“What about Kyra?”
“I need to get her back.”
“Why? All you do is fight.”
“That’s because she’s always bitching at me for something. I don’t know how to keep her happy.”
Without giving it much thought, I reply, “Fuck her so good that she shuts up.”
“I’ve tried. It works while I’m doing it, but then, she’s right back at it.”
“Maybe you’re not doing a good enough job.”