So… There I was. Sitting in my room, minding my business as always. I've been back at home for 2 months now, doing absolutely nothing. Well, I did participate in the daily chores that piled up in a family home, but apart from that? There was nothing. See, despite my bad grades, I was lucky enough to get into college back in September, but I dropped out right after the new year. The lack of sleep made it impossible to focus, impossible to study, and impossible to get through it.
I was just existing - isolating, as if we were experiencing some sort of pandemic that locked everyone inside. It was only me, though. I was the only one locked in. Mostly in my room. During the past two months, my sleep schedule completely flipped. I got sleep during the day, mostly in intervals, and was awake during the night, which made it extremely hard to find a job.
Not that I didn't try. I even found some places hiring for nightshifts, but all the interviews I attended were during the day, and I didn't look well. I was tired and exhausted, trying my best to look presentable, but admittedly, I looked sick. And no one was going to hire a sick person.
I also didn't have any hobbies. I was quite handy, loved to fix things and build stuff like my grandpa, but after I was hiding in dad's garage for days, he had locked it and forbidden me to go in there until I found a job. Fuck that. Now I was without an education, without a job, AND without a hobby. And all that had me spiraling many times. More so now than when I still attended college.
Back then, I had something to do, but it also took everything from me. I felt numb, I was exhausted all day, I got anxious when alone, and overwhelmed when in a crowd. There were some people at college I knew from high school. It was easy to converse with them, but the moment someone new entered the conversation, I felt sick to my stomach.
Anxiety. Probably. Not like my parents cared enough to send me to a professional. Too much money for something that isn't real, dad said. So I had to sit with it.
"Eli!" I heard my mother scream. It sent shivers down my spine.
"Yes?" I opened my door to yell back.
"Come down! It's important!" She sounded unsettled and upset.
I sighed deeply and made my way downstairs, where my mother greeted me with the phone in her hand. I looked at her, confused.
"What's up?" I asked.
"It's about ma and pa," she said. She seemed distant. Lost in thoughts, even. She never cared much for her parents. Or so I believed.
Something happened when I was still a child, and both my dad and my mom went no contact. However, since my teens, I called them in secret. Whenever my parents were out of the house, I called them. I had loved to visit them, but I had no driver's license, and they lived like 7 hours away.
I took the phone with a puzzled look and pressed it to my ear. "Yes?" I inquired.
"Elijah Weaver?" a male voice asked. I didn't know that voice.
"Speaking," I answered.
"My name is Daniel Miller. I'm an attorney at Witherstone & Co. First, I would need to confirm I am speaking with Elijah Weaver. If you could answer some questions," the voice spoke calmly.
"Ah, yeah, sure," I said, overwhelmed. My eyes were searching for my mother, but all I could see was her shadow on the floor as she was already heading back to the kitchen.
What followed were some basic questions: my date of birth, where I was born, the names of my parents, and the names of my grandparents. I felt myself getting more and more anxious by the second.
"Thank you for your cooperation. I'm sorry to contact you unexpectedly. I am calling in regard to the estate of your late grandparents, Lois and Richard Wells."
"I'm sorry, what? My late grandparents?" They were… dead? I glared in the direction of the kitchen, where I could hear my mother preparing dinner. She was hiding.
"They both passed away in December. I want to apologize that this information is reaching you in this way. My understanding is that your parents have been handling administrative matters up to this point. However, this is a matter I am required to discuss with you directly."
"I…" I swallowed hard. I had fond memories of my grandparents, and suddenly, all these memories were flashing by. I had just called them over Christmas, and sure, Grandpa wasn't doing too well, but I would never have thought that… well… "I'm all ears…"
"The reason I need to speak with you personally is that you are named in the will. Under its terms, your grandparents left you their house and all of their savings."
I made a noise just to let him know I was listening, but I couldn't muster any words.
"After all the paperwork has already been handled by your parents, we only need your signature. However, I do understand that you need time to process the information and need time to think. If you wish, we can arrange a meeting in person, where I can go through the will with you, explain the status of the estate, and answer any questions you may have before you sign any documents."
"I… I would like that." Be it just to have a little more time to process. Also, I wouldn't want my parents to talk me out or into anything. They probably meant well, but lately, they have been avoidant and pushy.
"Very well," he said, before naming a few options for a meeting. I really didn't want to get out of the house, but I also wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.
So we agreed on next week. Now I had to figure out how to get there, though. It was a 7-hour drive, and it would take even longer when taking a bus. But maybe… Maybe my parents owed me as much.
"Mom!" I burst into the kitchen, where she was cooking, with her back turned to me. "Why did no one tell me?!" I was angry, and I couldn't hide it.
"We didn't want you to carry even more, darling. You've been struggling a lot lately, and I thought it would be better to deal with it and inform you once you're doing better." She sounded calm, but distanced. Like she had been rehearsing this speech countless times.
"Once I'm doing better?!" I lost my shit completely. "They've been dead for TWO MONTHS!"
"Well, if you'd just sleep enough and get your moods in check, you'd do better in no time," my father's voice suddenly chimed in as he walked into the kitchen.
I had to swallow my anger, my hands clenched into fists.
"We would have told you soon," my mom said. Her calm made me even angrier.
My father clicked his tongue. "Now you know. What did they want from you? We already sent everything they asked for," my dad asked, sounding annoyed.
"Some inheritance stuff." They didn't deserve a precise answer. "You owe me a drive to the lawyer's office."
My dad's posture faltered in exhaustion. "That's a 7-hour drive."
"Yes."
"How about getting your driver's license, for a change? We're not a taxi company."
"You owe me that much. You kept me in the dark for two months!"
My mom sighed and finally turned around to face my dad and me. "Darling, it's not like you were close. Why are you so worked up over this?"
"Maybe." Oh, if she only knew, but I wouldn't tell her. "But they are still family. And I have every right to be upset."
"You do not!" My dad slammed the kitchen counter with his fist. "You don't even know what loss really means. You haven't experienced one single bad thing in your life, you're just lazy for no reason, and you take it out on us – on your mother! They were her parents, and you behave like they were so much more important to you. If anyone has the right to grieve, it's her, not you. You haven't even spoken to them in years - I doubt you can even remember them."
Silence. That sudden outburst of anger didn't just startle me, but also my mom. For a second, I completely forgot my grief, and my mom forgot to breathe.
"Honey," she finally whispered. "It's alright. I'll drive. I wanted to pick up some things before everything gets thrown out and sold." She laid her hand on his shoulder.
Why was he so worked up over this? He was right; if anyone was allowed to grieve, it was my mother. For him to get that extremely upset… Something didn't feel right. But I had no idea what it was.
He shook his head before straightening his back. "Fine." He laid his hand over hers, squeezed her fingers slightly, before he walked out the kitchen door into the backyard.
"Is… is he okay?" I asked after a few seconds of silence.
"He will be, darling."