Sixteen

T en years after that first fateful meeting, Genesis was surprised yet delighted to be in a committed relationship with the teenager who’d been the first guy to use his tongue to make her booty tingle. He’d done it again last night. Nothing like a few rounds of good sex to stimulate the brain cells. That and time and distance away from certain other situations. With the security of this new exclusivity, everything felt better. The sun shone brighter. The future held promise. She remained cautious, tried not to have expectations, but being with Lance or any other guy had never felt like this.

She was thankful to have a great guy by her side, but life was not problem-free. Since speaking with Hazel about Cyrus’s things, she’d tried several times to contact her cousins. Had left messages and texts. Neither had responded. She’d tried again today, twice, with the same results. After the day passed without hearing from them, she called Tiffany. Doing so was more than a notion because her once-dear cousin was ghosting her, too. They hadn’t talked since the funeral. Yet, miracle of miracles, she answered the phone.

“Who is this?” was her reaction to the unknown number.

“Hey, Tiff, it’s Genesis.”

“Hey.”

The usual effervescence whenever her cousin spoke was now replaced with a voice dryer than the Sahara.

“I’ve been trying to reach Clarence and thought you might know where he is.”

“Out driving, I guess. He’s had to double up on his limo business now that the money he’d expected didn’t come through.”

Clarence was in financial trouble? This was surprising news and valuable information. The upscale limo company he owned appeared to be successful. Cyrus had shown her pictures of Clarence with various celebrities. She’d seen pictures of his home, complete with a pool. Yet, from the few rappers she’d partied with in Memphis, Genesis knew what looked like wealth could be mere illusion. Maybe that was Clarence’s story, that all that glittered wasn’t gold.

“I guess you’re doing all right,” Tiffany continued, sarcastically. “Better than us.”

“I’m doing okay. My ankle healed. I was doing DoorDash, but once that stopped, mostly because of the injury, I took a customer service job working from home.”

“From Grandpa’s home, you mean. Daddy told me you had the nerve to move in, even though that’s not your house. Grandpa has two sons and several grandchildren. No way in hell he’d voluntarily leave it to you.”

Growing up, during the times they were together on the farm, Genesis, Tiff and Kayla had been thicker than thieves. Time passed. Situations changed. The realization made her sad.

“Jaxson King, the football player you met at the funeral, spoke with your father and told him Uncle seemed fine. He was Uncle Cyrus’s neighbor and saw him often. They’d played chess not long before Uncle passed. I never graduated past playing checkers, but from what I hear, chess is a very mental sport.

“The last time I saw Uncle Cyrus was six months ago, around the holidays. He was his usual spunky self. Two weeks before he passed, I called him. He sounded a little tired, but nothing that sent up red flags. Tiff, I can’t tell you why your grandfather did what he did, but I don’t think it’s because he had dementia. Whatever the reason, it’s placed me in the middle of an awkward situation.”

“You should do the right thing, Genny,” Tiffany said. “Daddy and Grandpa didn’t have the best relationship, but at the end of the day, he’s still his son.”

“What do you think is the right thing?”

“Move out! Find somewhere else to live. Turn the farm over to Daddy and Uncle Cleo.”

“Has Clarence explained the whole situation? Uncle Cyrus set up the trust in a way where it’s not that easy. I suggested they speak with the attorney directly. Did that happen?”

“I don’t know. What I am sure of is how weird it is for Grandpa to leave all of his stuff to you when he had two whole sons and grandchildren, his real next of kin.”

Ouch.

Genesis worked hard not to react. The statement was hurtful, but true.

When Cyrus was hospitalized during the pandemic, Genesis was the only relative who’d bucked the system and gone to his house to make sure he was okay. That visit was when she saw how distant the sons were with Cyrus. They’d called but made no plans to actually see him. No one did, even after the lockdown was lifted. Not Tiffany, nor Kayla, nor their brothers, Uncle Cyrus’s grandsons, who were also no-shows at the funeral. Maybe that was what he’d appreciated about Genesis, knowing someone cared enough to show up.

“Daddy and Uncle Cleo want to sell the farm and split the proceeds, as they should be able to do. Daddy’s fair, Genny. I’m sure he’ll give you something. Daddy and Uncle Cleo aren’t getting any younger and aren’t in the best of health either. Nobody needs this stress. Selling the farm, splitting the money and moving on is what works best for everybody.”

Everyone but Cyrus. But Tiffany had a point. In her mind, Cyrus’s sons were the rightful heirs. Was it really fair for Genesis to be the only one who benefited from her uncle’s foresight and years of hard work? Even though keeping the farm was her late uncle’s wishes, did that trump the needs of folk still alive?

“Do you think I should go against what Uncle Cyrus wanted and turn over the farm to your family?”

“Doesn’t that feel like the right thing to do?”

Genesis sighed. “In a way. Most of the time, whatever belongs to the parent is passed down to the next of kin. Following the advice to sell the farm would definitely make my life easier. It would end this family squabble and give me a little financial relief. But the people closest to Uncle Cyrus, including the attorney who helped him create the trust, assured me that he was very clear about who he wanted to have the property, and that he didn’t want it sold.”

“Grandpa isn’t here anymore,” Tiffany countered. “He left the farm in your hands. You have the power to do the right thing by all of us.”

“Tiff, please tell your dad that we need to talk as soon as possible. It would be great if he and Cleo could fly back one weekend to see the farm and all of what Uncle Cyrus left. In the meantime, I’ll speak with the attorney again and see if there is a reasonable way out of this dilemma. I’ll let your dad know what I find out when he calls.”

The call was upsetting and then some. Genesis tapped Jaxson’s number, looked at the clock, then decided on a drive-by instead.

He was out playing fetch with his pit bull. Until Butch, Genesis hadn’t been fond of that breed. But Butch was a big ole baby.

“Genesis! What are you doing?”

“Running away from home.”

She went in for a hug and immediately felt better.

“I’m glad you came by. Blake and I spoke earlier about the farm. He’s particularly concerned about how long it’s been since anything was updated, especially the wiring, which is likely not up to code. That and the plumbing system—pipes, water heater, sewer. Have you given more thought to taking out an equity loan? I could call my guy tomorrow and have the money in your hands next week.”

“That may not be necessary. I just had a long talk with Tiffany.”

“Who’s that?”

“My cousin, the one Clarence was trying to get you to marry.”

She looked for a smile at her attempt to ease the tension. Jaxson remained straight-faced.

“I think communication stopped because their position is the same. The farm should be theirs. At the end of the day, despite my uncle’s wishes, I think they’re right. When I get back to the house, I’m going to call Al Young. Find out how I can make that happen.”

Jaxson reached out his hand. “Come on.”

Instead of going up the steps, Jaxson continued to the side of the house. She almost gasped at the picturesque scene—a huge maple tree with a swing tied beneath it. They sat on the swing, and while he gently rocked them back and forth, she expounded on her talk with Tiffany. “I’m thinking about how I would feel in their situation. If it were my mom, for instance, and she left everything to Hank.”

A definite possibility. She immediately shut down the uncomfortable thought.

“For instance, if I needed money and Hank had it but wouldn’t give me any because it’s what Mom wanted. Whether that was true or not, I wouldn’t be happy.”

“To me that’s apples and oranges, but let’s go with that scenario and look at the other side. What if you’d been a real bitch to your mother and she had every right to cut you off. What if she laid out, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted Hank to have the money because you had ignored her, all but deserted her, for the last ten, fifteen years. Wouldn’t Hank’s actions then be understandable, even honorable? Making sure that someone who wasn’t helpful while the person was living didn’t benefit once they died?”

Jaxson had a point. Genesis felt torn.

“Thanks for listening. I appreciate your feedback.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The same thing I planned to do when I came down here. I hope Uncle Cyrus will forgive me, but life’s too short to argue over money. I’m going to call the attorney and try to sell the farm.”

Jaxson stopped the swing. “If you ask me, you’re making a big mistake.”

Every fiber of Genesis’s being believed he was right. But this decision wasn’t about him, or her either.

“Maybe,” she finally whispered.

Jaxson hopped up. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to take you for a spin on my tractor.”

“Oh, no! You want me to go all the way country for real!”

“Woman, you haven’t lived until you’ve straddled a John Deere.”

“Not only have I straddled one, I’ve driven one, thank you very much!”

For the next hour, Jaxson took Genesis on a tour of the land that had been in their family for several decades. They went past a herd of cows, saw Randy in the distance.

“Those belong to the farmer who you lease land to as another stream of income?”

“Some of the profit but none of the pain, and the beef I get to eat is organic.”

They reached the copse of pine trees she’d first seen up close on the UTV. Jaxson explained that by November they would have grown several more inches, ready for ornaments and lights. Jaxson used his land in a variety of income-producing ways, which not only handled upkeep but added to his annual profits.

“It doesn’t pay as well as the NFL,” he admitted, as they headed back toward his two-story farmhouse. “But working with my hands is just as satisfying.”

“That’s why you flip houses?”

Genesis watched Jaxson almost wince before covering the action with a smile. “That’s one of the reasons. The other is to help people who typically can’t afford a house be able to get one. Everybody deserves to live the American dream.”

Jaxson suggested they have an impromptu picnic down by the pond. He’d make the PB and Js. She knew what he was trying to do. Connect her to the land the way Cyrus had been, to see its value and beauty and why he didn’t want it sold. He was also trying to distract her from making the only decision that made sense.

It didn’t work. She declined the picnic offer. Back at the house, she retrieved her phone and sat on the porch. It seemed an appropriate place to have the lawyer conversation. It was after five, later than she’d thought. She dialed the number anyway and planned to leave a message. Instead, to her surprise, Al answered.

“Hello, Mr. Young. It’s Genesis Hunter, Cyrus’s niece.”

“Oh, hello, Genesis. How are you?”

“Good. Mr. Young—”

“Al. Please. Mr. Young is my father.”

“Okay, no problem.”

“What can I do for you?”

“It’s about the farm. I want to sell it and split the proceeds with my cousins, Uncle Cyrus’s sons.”

“I thought we’d already gone over this, Genesis.”

“I know.”

“I also went over the will with your cousins Clarence and Cleo.”

“They called? When?”

“It’s been more than once. I explained as thoroughly as I could that the will was clearly and specifically written and properly executed.”

Genesis was stunned. Either Clarence hadn’t shared this info with his daughter, or Tiffany knew it but thought her coaxing Genesis would somehow lead to a different outcome.

“Al, I know it wasn’t what my uncle wanted, but his decision has created conflict in the family and, honestly, made life difficult for me. Selling the farm is the only solution.”

A prolonged silence preceded the attorney’s response. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Cyrus Perry was nobody’s fool and he didn’t suffer them lightly. He knew his sons better than they thought he did. Which is precisely why the trust was created with ironclad instructions on what he wanted to happen, and why a letter was drafted and notarized to combat any pushback. I didn’t read it during the meeting and quite frankly hoped I wouldn’t have to. The truth can be harsh and what’s stated in the correspondence Cy dictated doesn’t paint his sons in the best light. Genesis, that farm is your uncle’s legacy. It must remain in the trust under your name for at least ten years.”

“But if the land is legally mine, shouldn’t I be able to do what I want with it?”

“Technically, yes, and after ten years has passed you can do just that. You might not be able to see it now, but your uncle believed you owning it might be a curse in the short term, but a blessing and a gift in the end. Cyrus was right about most things. I think he’s right about this, too.”

Needless to say, the phone call was not at all what Genesis had expected. It dampened her mood and made her feel as though she was back at square one. She immediately put a call in to Clarence, but, as usual, it went to voicemail. She left a message just short of showing her whole poker hand.

“Clarence, it’s Genesis. I just spoke with Al Young about selling the farm and learned why there’s no way that can happen, at least not right now. He said you and Cleo were told the same thing on more than one occasion. Deciding to sell the farm was stressful and, in the end, pointless. I wish you’d returned at least one of my calls or texts and told me what you’d learned.

“Given the situation, Clarence, I’m going to move forward, starting with clearing out Uncle Cyrus’s personal belongings. There are decades of your father’s memories stored here. It would be great if you and Cleo could come help go through it all. I’m planning to sell the larger items to help pay for much-needed repairs, some considered to be safety hazards. Any remaining items will be donated to charity, starting with the Baptist church where the funeral was held.

“I’m sorry this didn’t work out the way your family wanted. Please call back and let me know if or when you think you can fly down. I’d like to get this project completed before winter, so...let me know.”

Genesis called Jaxson.

“Is that dinner offer still good?”

“Sure. What do you have a taste for?”

“Where did you get those tacos?”

“A truck that’s usually parked in the square. If not, I know a couple other places. Should I come now or give you time to make yourself presentable?”

“A little time, maybe.”

“Like what...an hour?”

“Jaxson! You know what—”

She heard him howling with laughter while hanging up the phone.

The taco truck had left, so Jaxson took her to what he called a small-town staple, a place where he’d hung out as a kid.

She looked at the marquee. “Tastee Freez?”

“Ever heard of it?”

“Never.”

“Then allow me to place your order. Prepare to be amazed.”

Ten minutes later she tried what was called a pizza burger for the first time. It didn’t exactly taste like pizza, but it was different, and good.

“This franchise is one of the few who still serve it,” Jaxson explained. “And not every location. I think the locals are addicted. If they ever tried to discontinue this item, someone might try and tear the place down.”

Her fast-food diner experience was rounded out with a bite of Jaxson’s chili cheese dog, onion rings, fries and a banana split she shared with Jaxson. They talked about the equity loan, with Jaxson providing valuable information on how it worked and why it was a good idea, namely increasing the property’s value and improving quality of life while there. He pretty much talked her into an affirmative decision. He agreed to call his banker the following week. They returned to the valley appropriately stuffed and with Genesis feeling better about the future.

“My house or yours?” Jaxson asked.

“Mine, please. Now that I’ve made the decision to move forward, I want to start the process of really going through Uncle Cyrus’s things, and cataloging them into categories of what stays, what’s sold and what’s given away.”

“Sounds like a plan. Want some help?”

“I’d love some.”

Jaxson used the private back road. As they neared the house, both were surprised to see a car next to the Kia.

“Do you know who that is?” Jaxson asked.

“I have no idea. Where’s Nipsey?”

“I don’t know.” Jaxson pulled up next to the small white sedan. A middle-aged man with graying hair and a full beard got out of the driver’s side carrying a folder.

Jaxson cut him off before he reached Genesis. “Can I help you?”

“I’m just here to drop off papers for Ms. Hunter.”

“After business hours?”

“Apologies for the lateness,” the man said. “I came by earlier, then decided to enjoy one of those Holy Moly burgers before trying again and heading home.”

The situation felt unusual, but the guy seemed friendly enough. Jaxson relaxed. A little.

“Yeah, those burgers are something.”

The man patted his ample belly. “Try to get one every time I come this way. Was told this was an important document, an addendum to a deed or something. The attorney wanted to make sure it got delivered personally. I live in Covington. Before hitting the main highway, I followed through on my plan to swing by here again.”

The explanation made sense, but something felt off. Very few strangers ventured into the valley. Jaxson decided he was being overly protective but was glad he’d made the offer to come over. What if Genesis had been alone? Who was to say the man, as nice as he appeared, was telling the truth? These days, unfortunately, one couldn’t be too careful.

He reached out his hand. “I’ll give her the paperwork.”

The man hesitated. “Nothing personal, sir, but me getting paid is predicated on handing off my delivery directly to the client. May I walk over there with you, just to see for myself that she receives them?”

“We can do that.”

Jaxson kept an eye on the guy as he approached the passenger door.

“This guy is from the attorney’s office. Says he has an addendum to your deed for the farm.”

“Thank you,” Genesis said, taking the envelope. Given their earlier conversation, she assumed it was the letter Al had mentioned, the one that laid out exactly why she owned the farm and why it couldn’t be sold for at least ten years.

“My pleasure,” the man said. He started to say something else, but after looking at the scowl on Jaxson’s face, he backed away and went to his car. When parallel with the truck, he rolled down the window and yelled, “Y’all have a pleasant evening. Ms. Hunter, you’ve been served!”

“What?”

The man took off before Jaxson could react. Still, he instinctively took off running after the car, hurling a string of expletives toward the retreating lights. He walked back to where Genesis sat reading the envelope contents, her cell phone flashlight moving back and forth across the stark white paper.

“I take it that’s not the deed?” Jaxson asked.

She slowly shook her head. “It’s a petition submitted on behalf of my cousins. They’re contesting Uncle Cy’s will.”