“Figures,” Tawny said under her breath.
“What? That I work in a bar or that it’s in Oklahoma?” Harper asked.
“Both,” Tawny said.
“Stop it!” Zed said. “Y’all ain’t been together here in nigh on to ten years. I ain’t havin’ you upset Annie with your bickerin’.”
“Uncle Zed, Granny Annie is gone,” Brook said softly.
“Honey, her body is gone, but her spirit is still here among us, so these three best be a little more civil to each other,” Zed scolded.
“I guess we can put up a front for him,” Dana whispered.
“Y’all need to remember that he’s lost his best friend,” Brook said. “And he don’t need a lot of arguing. What’s it between y’all anyway that you can’t get along?”
“Long story,” Harper said.
“Y’all here to stay?” Tawny looked up at her two sisters and niece.
“You?” Harper asked.
Dana glanced across the table. “It will all depend on what the lawyer says. If Granny Annie left the whole place to Uncle Zed, I’m going to beg him for a job.”
Zed brought out a pitcher full of sweet tea and set it in the middle of the table. “I don’t imagine you’ll have to beg.”
Harper refilled her glass and passed the pitcher to Tawny, who had always been the prettiest of the three. Petite and curvy, she had the lightest hair and those delicate features that made men follow around behind her like a little puppy dog. Surely she wouldn’t be leaving her fancy sorority her last year at the university to work at Annie’s Place and live in a cabin on the lake.
A bit of an old song played through Harper’s head. The lyrics talked about three friends and said that one was pretty, one was smart, and one was the borderline fool. Dana was smart. Tawny was pretty. That only left the latter for Harper to lay claim to, and with her past mistakes, it kind of fit her well. Besides, she’d always felt like a big old sunflower among the bed of cute little miniature roses that were her sisters. Standing at just under six feet, she had what her mother called dishwater-blonde hair and light-brown eyes. And she’d sure turned out to be the biggest disappointment of the three women around the table. Hopefully Brook would get Dana’s smarts, her aunt Tawny’s beauty, and not an ounce from the borderline fool.
Yet Tawny’s rough hands and nails hadn’t seen lotion nor polish in weeks. Those were not the hands of a sorority sister. They’d seen hard work. And where were her signature high-heeled shoes? When Harper saw her three years ago, she wouldn’t have been caught dead in those cheap athletic things on her feet. Just what exactly had her younger sister been doing the past year?
“Like Dana says, it depends on what the will says. I’m stayin’ if she left this place to us, at least until the end of summer. If she didn’t, then”—Tawny shrugged—“you goin’ to use this place for a rehab center to get sober, Harper?”
“Naw, I thought I’d turn it into a brothel,” Harper smarted off. “We could get us ten girls to work the cabins and . . .”
Dana’s finger shot across the table. “That’s enough. Brook is sitting right here.”
“And I know what a brothel is, and it sounds like a moneymakin’ idea to me,” Brook said with a gleam in her brown eyes. “Have y’all always hated each other?”
Harper grinned. “We are the poster children for real-life sisters. All that crap about blood kin loving each other is a crock of bullshit. We learned a long time ago that we don’t even like each other, but we managed to tolerate one another for a few weeks each summer for Granny’s sake.”
“I’m glad I don’t have a sister,” Brook declared.
“You are one blessed little girl.” Harper nodded, meaning every word.
“Amen,” Dana and Tawny said in unison.
CHAPTER TWO
Good afternoon, ladies. I am John Thompson of the law firm Thompson, Thompson, and Clary,” the lawyer said as he entered the café.
Evidently when folks came to the lake, they didn’t feel the need for three-piece suits and wing tips. The lawyer was a short man with a rim of brown hair around an otherwise bald head, giving him the look of a monk. The wire-rimmed glasses framed his baby face and a brown cardigan sweater topped a light-blue shirt and khaki trousers. He hadn’t bothered with a tie.
His cowboy boots had a nice high walking heel, though, giving credence to the fact that he most likely had SMS—short man’s syndrome.
Harper rose up from her chair and stuck out a hand. “I’m Harper Clancy, and this is Tawny and that’s Dana and her daughter, Brook. Have you had lunch? Zed makes a mean burger.”
“I’ve eaten, thank you.” He had to look up to meet Harper’s eyes, and he quickly dropped her hand after a quick shake. “Maybe we can get right down to business. It’s nice to meet you all. Miz Joanna—I suppose y’all called her Annie, but on the will, it’s her legal name, Joanna Clancy—anyway, she spoke well of each of you.”
Harper slid back into her chair. Food had helped the headache and the pecan pie had been wonderful, but she hoped he didn’t take forever reading a bunch of legal jargon, because the banana pudding over there on the dessert table was calling her name.
He opened his briefcase, but he didn’t sit down. “I have a copy of the actual will for each of you, but she also asked me to read this letter. It basically explains everything. A copy of the letter is also in the packet with the will and a copy of her death certificate for each granddaughter.”
He straightened up, making himself as tall as possible, shook out the folded letter with a bit of pompous attitude, and began to read.
If John is reading this to y’all, then I’m dead and my ashes are already in Zed’s care. Don’t worry—when he’s joined me in eternity, you’ll understand why he’s taking care of them. I wanted to leave everything to him, but he wouldn’t have it. He said that you girls should share the resort, since you are my blood kin. So here’s the deal. The resort is yours, but it cannot be sold. It’s to be passed down to your children and I’d like to keep it up and going as long as possible. So if you choose not to take your share, then you are free to walk away with nothing. If you stay, then every Friday you will have a paycheck for your hard work. At the end of the year, the remaining profits will be shared between the three of you and Zed.
Dana will manage the convenience store. She knows more about running the store than you other two, because she’s been around it more. Tawny will take care of the books and the business end of things like payroll and insurance and taxes. I’ve done that for years, but she studied it in college. Zed will help her get set up with my computer. Harper, you are going to be in the kitchen with Zed, and that will free up Flora’s time to clean the cabins. You are all responsible for keeping your own living quarters tidied up whether you live in a cabin or the house. Flora is not going to pick up after a single one of you and as soon as you are comfortable with the new arrangement, I feel sure she will retire.
Harper groaned. She didn’t want to do café work, but Granny Annie had promised a nice paycheck, and working with Uncle Zed wouldn’t be nearly as tough as some of the bosses she’d had in the past. She glanced over at Tawny, who had a smug expression on her cute little round face. Dana looked like she was relieved that she had been given the control of the store.