Money, Blood, and Coffee

TW: Strong language and violence throughout.

Hey girl. I'll take one large ginger spiced latte and a chocolate chip muffin, please... 

…and sorry if I look a state. I just walked over from Bark and Solihull, the solicitors one block up, and you wouldn't believe what went down. I'm guessing this red shit all over my face and shirt is a giveaway, but damn… a guy just got his head blown half off. And don't get all nervous around me. Do you think I would be standing here hands-free if I had anything to do with this shit? Nah… I haven't so much as held a gun in my 17 years. This clumsy ass would put his own limbs in more danger than any enemy.

Can I pay by card? …Thanks. My name? The order is for Corey to go.

So why do I look like I took a dip in Dracula's jacuzzi? Well, you can pin that on my crazy family. We were over there for Grandpa Alan's Will reading. Died eight days ago from a heart attack out fishing off West Cove. Can't you believe it? 95 years old and he's trying to reel in a 300 lb tuna. People would expect a guy that old to choke on tuna, not blow his ticker trying to reel it in.

Yeah, ginger spiced. It's OK; take your time.

So, Grandpa was pretty rich; a cool five million, they say, but never dished out a penny. As such, his Will was a big fucking deal, and maybe, for one of us, it was a winning lottery ticket. I gave myself a chance. Grandpa had been reticent 'til the end about the whole thing, but we had always seen eye to eye, and he appreciated that school had always turned out well. But if the money didn't skip a generation, my chips were with Dad, Grandpa's oldest kid, who, two days ago, promised me 100 K if the Will played out right. And I'm not talking about paying me through college or anything. I mean 100 K in hard dollars to spend how I please. If they wanted to drop an extra 100 on college, I'm grateful, but I promise you now, I would be rolling up to those courses in a car that's red and sparkles, boasting wheels that would make even the Dean emasculated.

Can I take a cloth to wipe my face? …Thanks. Oh, sorry.. thanks... Olivia.

So, we were all sitting in that office, right, with this lawyer, big fucking room. I arrived last, and it wasn't lost on me that this was a tense situation. My family is full of hotheads, and if this Will had said this rather than that, anyone could have flipped out. It was a solid showing: I was there; Mom and Dad; Dad's younger brother Uncle Bill; Grandpa's niece Janice and her husband; Grandpa's nephew Eugene and his wife; and a shit-tonne of cousins, half of whom I had never even seen before.

I'll just throw this cloth in the trash. Don't I look fresh? Can I take one of your branded T-shirts too? I need to switch out. I'm looking like a horror show here. I'll take yellow.

Anyhow, the elephant in the room was Uncle Bill, sitting back left. No less flesh and blood of Grandpa than my dad, but this guy had been MIA for north of a decade. The word was he'd been tapping up Grandpa for months... and Dad would get calls every so often, but they were more like testing the water than heartfelt check-ins. Now, out of the blue, he shows up in a suit fit for Vito Corleone and sits in waiting with everybody else. What's worse was he had brought this chick, Stacey, who no one had even heard of until today. The stares people were giving her and her 10 lbs of jewelry were damn-near arctic... and she even looked arctic in this outlandish white fur coat. She was money-hungry, but in fairness to her, so was everyone else. Grandpa had all sorts of tight bonds with folks in that room. Hands were rubbing together like a Miyagi recital. Even my baby cousin, Donny, only four months old, had dollar signs in his eyes.

Is this my latte? Ya know, they gave us coffee over there. Not bad, but this smells sick. 

So, this lawyer, Leonard Bark III, is going through the motions. And I mean like that of a Galapagos tortoise. He was even older than Grandpa. Didn't these guys used to retire back in the day? Not only that, but he had half a bottle of Courvoisier and two inches in a glass out on his fucking desk. It's like we were visiting a 1920s private eye. He began with a polite welcome and a solemn but slurred tribute to Grandpa while a collective inner monologue of Yeah, yeah, get on with it went around the room.

This T-shirt looks good on me, right? Yeah, I work out. Oh, and sweet job on the latte. You've got some finesse, huh?

So, finally, Legal Lenny gets down to the meat and gravy. Half the room leans forward, Mom and Dad gape, Janice and Eugene are panting, Uncle Bill is shaking, Stacey is drooling, kids stop texting, and baby Donny's eyes roll over like a slot machine.

"I, Alan Robbin, bequeath all of my money and assets to my youngest son, Bill Robbin, because…" 

…and then… bang, a gunshot reverberates around the room, and blood and brains splatter the desk, walls, and family. Everyone in there freezes.

The silence immediately after was agonizing. I mean, this moment felt like forever. Folks started holding their blood-covered arms out front, rotating their hands and patting at their sleeves. I'd already managed to scoop Uncle Bill's brain out of my left ear when I heard Eugene scream. He spotted Uncle Bill slumped in his chair and squeezed out a note, one semi-tone lower than a dog whistle. It was like shrapnel just hit him in the balls. After four long seconds, Janice put her hand over his mouth and told him to shut the fuck up.

Everyone looked at everyone. I mean, people stand up, looking back and forth like fucking meerkats. For a split second, it's like all these loved ones; fathers, mothers, brothers, cousins; everyone had killer potential. Dad looked at Janice, Janice looked at Eugene, Eugene looked at Mom, and Mom looked at Dad… and then threw daggers at me with an expression that said, stand the fuck up, Corey, like this madness had some kind of formal etiquette. Half the kids were crying, and the ones who weren't were now fucking texting. 

Damn, this latte is the best. Did you train in Italy or something? I digress…

…Me? I eyed Dad's hands for a gun. I mean… losing all that money to your younger brother must have felt like the English monarchy having a shake-up and making Harry heir. But no gun on Dad... The whole room turned back to Uncle Bill, and he was slumped in his chair with the gun still hanging off his fucking finger. I mean, what… the... fuck? Didn't this chump just get the golden handshake? I was thinking he must really hate money, right? 

The first to move was his chick, Stacey. She ran over to Uncle Bill, and I shit you not, she started throttling him in front of everyone. I don't think you can consider it assault when the guy is six feet under already, but that is violence no one should ever have to witness; it was fucking surreal. Dad picked her up and held her out in front of him, squirming like a toddler throwing a fit. You could even hear her jewelry rattling. He put her outside the room in this big armchair, and she stayed there mumbling and cursing at no one.

Dad returned, wiped the blood from his forehead, and kneeled by Uncle Bill, but he didn't cry. He just shook his head like he was disappointed or something. Janice stood back, holding Baby Donny. She wasn't crying either, and neither was Donny. The only adult crying by that point was Eugene. He was sobbing in the corner with his wife rubbing his shoulder and wiping the blood from his lower lip. I think he was more in shock than anything. Finally, Mom blurts out at Legal Lenny, "Because what, Mr. Bark? Because what??" He was sitting there like it was just another day in the office.

"Yeah, because what?" Janice added. They all started demanding answers. Even Eugene stands up and shakes off his grief. But Legal Lenny sat there, splattered in blood like everybody else, quietly drinking....and I swear he looked half asleep. I don't know what kind of shit that old timer had seen over the years, but damn, 95+ or not, this dude was made of stone. Eventually, Mom swipes the Will from right in front of him as he is topping up his glass.

"Oh my," Mom said. "What in the world?" Everyone was screaming at her to read it out loud, so she composed herself and cleared her throat.

Did you make this muffin with dark chocolate? It's sharp! Oh, sorry, yeah...

...Turned out Uncle Bill was in debt to the eyeballs. I mean crazy debt that a fledging country could run up, and Grandpa had left him all the money to get out of that mess. The only problem was that Grandpa needed to explain the Will, and he knew Bill wouldn't have the balls to own up, himself. All he had to hear was that one word, Because. He knew this wasn't going to be an an easy ride. And did we get one round number? No… Grandpa was fucking ruthless; he laid it all out. Talk about throwing your son under the bus. This shit read like Jordan Belfort's credit card bill. Money to brokers, casinos, hookers, jewelers. The high-roller even owed money for Stacey's coat. It was listed as fucking chinchilla!

Dad opened up about how Uncle Bill had been calling him irregularly the last few months. Said he was all wound up. He thought it was strange but assumed Uncle Bill had been given freedom in a promotion or something. I guess that job went the other way and out the door.

"Well, he was never with me," Stacey shouted from the other room. It was the first complete sentence she had assembled in nearly five minutes. Janice told her to pipe down, but the room turned chaotic. Eugene swiped the Will from Mom and read in disbelief. Janice snatched it from him and read it with a look of disgust. The piece of paper was so covered in bloody fingerprints by that point I don't know how anyone knew what they were looking at. Everyone bickered back and forth about money, clauses, small print, or anything that could make the Will mean something different until Dad swiped it from Janice and tore it up right there. 

All was silent…for three seconds, and then it became chaos again. I looked at Uncle Bill in the chair. It felt like he was invisible by that point. I imagined the fallout in that room was akin to the chaos pinging around his head for the last few months. But in his blood-sodden suit, and with his eyes rolled back, tongue hanging out, he looked strangely at peace. Who knows if he did it out of shame or wanting to keep the money in the family? All I know is a whole load of stress just got vented out of that hole in the back of his head. Grandpa sure underestimated his son's ego.

By then, the shouting had been redirected from Mom to Legal Lenny, who was deflecting questions like a drunk driver at the pound. Even when Janice dragged his desk out of the way, he only picked up his glass and sighed. I'm thinking, is anyone gonna do anything about this dead guy? 

Through his drunken mumbling, Legal Lenny eventually started making some kind of sense, and at that point, I bounced out. I waltzed past Stacey in her blood-soaked fur coat, and I swear she fucking smiled at me; I stepped through the lobby and into the street. The secretary by the door looked at me like I was nuts. She should check out that office and then decide who's nuts. That was some morning, damn.

Maybe you think I'm nuts, Olivia. I'll take another ginger spiced latte... And I promise to go this time. It looks like my mom just texted me to come back. You can't just leave like that, Corey, etc, etc. Turns out the secretary called the authorities. I guess someone had to. It's OK, take your time.

Ya know, it's worth mentioning: Last I heard, walking out of that room, Legal Lenny said nothing else was written. Uncle Bill didn't have kids so that money should go to my dad after all. Next time you see me, I'll be rolling by the drive-through in a new set of wheels. But for now, I just want to raise my cup for Grandpa. You caused some shit today, man, but I know you meant well. Rest in peace. And RIP to you, too, Uncle Bill: I didn't know you and wish I knew you better. I hope times weren't too tough. 

I'll see you around, Olivia. My number? Give me your phone, and I'll put it in. I better head back anyway. I think I am starting to freak out your customers.