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I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow morning, though. I wasn’t looking for another sleepless night, so I picked up my phone.
Rocco
“Thank you.”
I put my wallet in my pocket and nodded at Abby, the house cleaner I had found online. “I should be the one thanking you for cleaning this place from top to bottom. Do you think you can come in every other week?”
Abby, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, smiled warmly. “I can definitely add you to my rotation. How does Thursdays sound?”
Any day sounded good to me as long as I wasn’t the one scrubbing floors and dusting shelves. “Sounds good.”
With a nod of agreement, Abby gathered her cleaning supplies and left with a wave over her shoulder, leaving me alone in the spacious Victorian house that was now mine. Well, technically, it had been Uncle Donald’s, but he had left it to me in his will, along with the funeral home.
I glanced around at the grand three-story Victorian, a mixture of awe and responsibility settling over me. It was a beautiful house with its ornate architecture and intricate details, but it was also a lot of space for just me.
Walking through the foyer, I took in the high ceilings and elegant staircase that led to the upper floors. The polished wood floors gleamed under the soft light streaming in through the tall windows, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the thought of calling this place home.
As I made my way through the house, I explored each room, marveling at the spaciousness and charm of it all. The living room was cozy yet grand, with a fireplace and bay windows overlooking the manicured garden outside. The dining room was elegant, with a large table that could easily seat twelve guests.
Upstairs, I found the bedrooms, each more inviting than the last. The master bedroom was luxurious, with a king-sized bed and en-suite bathroom. The other two bedrooms were equally comfortable, with plenty of space and natural light.
The bathrooms, with clawfoot tubs and marble countertops, were a mix of modern convenience and old-world charm. They needed a little updating, but overall, they were functional and stylish.
Finally, I made my way up to the third floor, where I discovered a surprise—a cozy attic space that had been converted into a home office. It was the perfect place to set up my computer and work on the business side of running the funeral home.
Standing in my new home, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over me. Uncle Donald had left me not only his beloved business but also a beautiful house to call my own. It was a gift beyond measure and one that I couldn’t believe he had left me.
With a deep breath, I whispered a quiet “thank you” to Uncle Donald. His generosity had given me a fresh start, and I was determined to make the most of it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of silent thanks for life changing the way it had. I fished it out, surprised to see Dorothy’s name lighting up the screen. I hadn’t heard from her in a few days, and while I had been in and out of the funeral home, my focus had mostly been on cleaning out things I didn’t need.
“Hello?” I answered, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Rocco?”
“Uh, yup, that’s who you called, Dorothy,” I replied with a hint of amusement in my voice. “Is everything okay?”
Dorothy hesitated for a moment. “Oh, uh, well, yes, but I thought maybe we could talk. Now.”
I furrowed my brow, wondering why Dorothy was calling me out of the blue. “Didn’t you get my message about meeting with you and Imogen tomorrow?”
“Yup, yup, I got it, but I thought maybe we could talk without Imogen,” Dorothy explained. “She’s pretty stressed out right now, and that’s not the best for the baby.”
I hadn’t realized that Imogen was stressed. “Is she okay?” I asked, concern creeping into my voice.
Imogen and Dorothy had done an amazing job handling Uncle Donald’s funeral, and I had been impressed by how smoothly everything had gone. I just wanted to meet with them tomorrow to sort out who would be doing what in the future.
“She’s fine, but I just want to talk,” Dorothy repeated, her voice soft yet determined. “Now.”
“Sure, uh, I can be at the funeral home in a few minutes,” I offered.
“No,” Dorothy interrupted. “I can come to you. I don’t want to stress Imogen out any more than she is.”
I nodded, even though Dorothy couldn’t see me. “Uh, well, I’m at Uncle Donald’s place. Well, I guess my place now.”
“Perfect,” Dorothy said briskly. “I can be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll see you soon.”
Before I could even say goodbye, Dorothy ended the call, leaving me staring at my phone in confusion.
