“It’s all fairly cut-and-dried,” Lola said. “Everything goes to you. There are brokerage accounts, all manner of trusts so you don’t get socked with inheritance taxes, insurance, property, and, of course, my jewelry. Everything is in the vault. When I moved back here ten years ago, I made a new will. Mitchell, my attorney, passed away while I was in Europe hoping to find a cure for my bone problem, but his son, who was his partner, took over. I’ve never met him, but that doesn’t matter. Everything is in order. I’m not sure, and you’ll have to check with Mandy on this, but I think a new firm has taken over the Agulera firm. Something about the son not wanting to practice any longer. I don’t foresee you having any problems with a new firm. A lawyer is a lawyer if you know what I mean. If you do, you’ll just have to deal with it at that time. I left my son, your father, ten dollars. I didn’t want to leave him anything, but Mitchell said I should, so ten dollars seemed like a good amount. I imagine he’ll try to break the will, but he won’t be successful. If he ever got his hands on my money, he’d start up one of those cults, and I won’t stand for that, dead or alive.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask how much?” Lola asked.

“No. I don’t care, Lola. I don’t want your money. I just want you. I came here thinking we could be close again the way we were when I was little. Mom just said you had some health problems and had been hospitalized. She led me to believe it was arthritis, nothing more. Oh, I know you came to see me four or five times a year, but those visits were just for fun. We never seemed to have the time to talk or just hang out. I guess the reason we went full tilt twenty-four-seven was so that we wouldn’t have to go down Memory Lane. I didn’t want to relive the accident, and you knew it. I don’t like thinking about that time, and I hate having to talk about it. You told me once I would know when I was ready. Maybe I’m ready now. Then again, maybe not. It would be nice to get my memory back, but if it doesn’t happen, I’m okay with that, too.” Cady sighed.

“Those visits are memories I will treasure forever,” she continued, her expression brightening. “Remember the day we went rollerblading and some photographer couldn’t believe it was really you? I laughed my head off when you sent me the cover of Variety, and there you were with your knee pads and helmet! I framed it, Lola. The best, though, was when we went hiking and I had to piggyback you the last mile because you were wearing those cockamamie designer boots and sprained your ankle. Everyone should have a grandmother like you. I just love you to pieces in case you don’t know it already.”