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Saint or not, Ruby McTavish—who reverted to her maiden name after the death of her last husband—did devote a large part of her life to charitable works, most involving disadvantaged youth. It was through this work that she met and eventually adopted her only child, a young boy she named Camden, who, with her death, becomes sole heir to a fortune rumored to be in the high eight figures.
In addition to Camden (20), Mrs. McTavish is survived by a sister, Nelle (69), a nephew, Howell (49), a great-nephew, Ben (23), and a great-niece, Elizabeth (17).
A cause of death has not been released.
—The Asheville Citizen-Times, April 2, 2013
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: [FWD] Ruby’s will/house issues
Cam,
By now, I guess you’ve heard about Dad. Nathan Collins said he’d get in touch with you and let you know, so I assume he did that. Nana Nelle thought it was “tacky” to let your lawyer tell you a family member died, but I reminded her that you’d made it pretty clear you didn’t want to talk to any of us.
Honestly, I don’t blame you, especially after the last email Dad sent to you (hope you don’t mind me attaching that message, by the way, but I wanted you to be sure I wasn’t bullshitting you about knowing what he said). If it’s any consolation, you weren’t the only person to get an email like that. His drinking had been bad for the past twenty years, ever since Mom left, really, but the last six months of his life were particularly rough. Probably sounds shitty to say, but me and Libby both felt like we’d already lost him by the time he wrapped his car around that tree last month.
Anyway, it doesn’t look like you replied (and, hey, I can’t judge since I stopped responding to similar texts and voicemails from him), and for all I know, you won’t reply to this one, either, but I had to try.
I’m not going to give you the same old guilt trip bullshit Dad tried. You were always a straight shooter, so I will be, too. With Dad gone and you in Colorado, I feel a responsibility for not just Nana Nelle and Libby, but for Ashby House itself. Dad wasn’t lying about the repair work that’s needed, but it’s more than that. Maybe it was everything with Ruby, all the husbands, the rumors. Maybe it was because Dad was admittedly a dick to a lot of the locals. Maybe we’ve all just been up on this mountain for too damn long. I don’t know, man. But I do know that the McTavish name used to mean something—used to make shit happen—and I want it to again.And none of that can happen until we untangle the mess Ruby left us with that damn will.
I’ll understand if you don’t answer this, but like I said, I had to try. I know we haven’t ever been close, and I hate that Nana Nelle and Ruby spent so much time pitting us against each other, but we’re not teenagers anymore, Cam. Come home, back to Ashby, and let’s get this shit squared away once and for all.
Sincerely,
Ben
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Ruby’s will/house issues
Camden,
I hope this email finds you well, and that contacting you via your workplace is not out of line. Unfortunately, you’ve made yourself hard to get in contact with any other way (although I assume that is on purpose).
As you know, it’s in my nature to be blunt, so I will put this as plainly as possible: while I understand your reasons for putting time and distance between us, and I regret the words spoken in anger that caused you to make that decision, I feel that now, after ten years, it is time to attempt some kind of family reconciliation.
I could tell you that my mother has not been well (which is true), or that it’s occurred to me that thanks to the acrimonious nature of my divorce from the mother of my children, you are the only family they have besides me or their grandmother (also true).
I suspect that neither of these facts will sway you. However, despite our differences, I know that you loved Ruby and shared her deep affection for Ashby House. If family cannot bring you home, maybe the house can. There is flood damage to the east wing, plus I’m told that several of the windows will need to be replaced, along with sections of the roof, the steps to the back veranda, and Lord only knows what else.
Thanks to Ruby’s will, accessing the funds to do these vital repairs involves a jungle of red tape and more phone calls to that dipshit lawyer of yours than I’d prefer to make.
You may have washed your hands of us, but you still have responsibilities here, Camden. Responsibilities that Ruby left for you and would expect you to fulfill. And if you can’t do that, you can at least come down here and sort out a better fucking solutionthan making my almost eighty-year-old mother call Nathan fucking Collins twelve times a day just to get money thatherfather made.
So come home. Oversee the work yourself so that you know we’re not scamming you out of money you’ve never even fuckingtouched. And let’s fix this. Not just the house, but all of it. Because it’s been ten years of bullshit at this point, Cam. I told you when you left it wasn’t that simple, and now here we are.
Ruby is probably laughing at us down there in hell. Mother thinks she killed herself just to fuck us all over, to leave everything this goddamn mess, but I wonder, sometimes, Cam, I really do. Maybe we were too quick to cremate her and find out if she really took those pills herself. Thinking about it a lot here lately for some reason.
Do you ever think about it, Camden?
You may hate us but you always said you loved this house. You always said you loved Ruby. Now prove it.
H.
