Je Ne Sais Quoi

It took five minutes for things to go from perfectly "alright" to perfectly catatonic at the reception the next night in ballroom at a posh boutique hotel themed with cast gilded mirrors and excessive amounts of red velvet in a variety of forms, Le Rendezvous.

It was late, and everyone that wasn't in the immediate family had already left, including my father and Zeke; they had claimed headaches and fled at the thought of being along with who was left. The five siblings were still fighting tooth and nail for an estate in the plush, lavish lobby.

It all started with a snide remark and a dark laugh, which was enough for words to begin flying across the room, hurled with the forced and intention of razor-sharp knives.

"Aunt Camille, relax," Rose pleaded softly, one small hand curled around our favorite aunt's wrist. "Atticus didn’t mean anything by that, did he?" he shot him the most venomous glare she could muster.

"I warned you," I whispered to a shell-shocked Zack at my side. I stood slowly, making haste to my sister's side, edging in front of my restrained aunt.

"Like hell, I meant nothing," he snapped, pushing past his other grief-stricken sister -- Violet, for my mother had been faking tears almost all night; we could tell -- to get right up in Camille's face.

"Atticus," Violet's husband warned. He was the only other male in the room, aside from Zack and Stefano, neither of which having any plans to get involved.

"The only thing you ever did for our mother was give her problems and angst. You were always so picky as a child, so needy. What, with your so-called psychic 'gift' and need to go to an Ivy League school, I doubt you cut her any slack your entire pitiful life."

"Take it back," she hissed, lashing out of Rose's grip and nearly touching her nose to her brother's. This surprised me, and Rose, too; from the looks on our faces, Camille could've announced she was going commando and had a concealed weapon up her--

"Why should I?" he challenged in a booming voice, refusing to back down. "You're already successful, about to retire at barely fifty-five. The last thing you need-- hell, the last thing you deserve, is mother's estate."

Now, I had no idea who got it in their head that they could decide who got the money, but apparently offing each other upped their already nonexistent chances at the money already in my account.

The receptionist approached with a phone pressed to her chest, managing to get Zack's attention, who nudged me gently and jerked his chin to the timid temp.

I hustled over, glad the young girl had realized this wasn't the perfect moment to cut in. I nodded my thanks and took the receiver with a small smile.

"Hello?" I murmured, pressing two fingers in my other ear to block out the nonsense behind me.

"I'm looking for Saffron Raven Mason?" a male's voice said it like a question.

"This is she."

"Hello, I'm Mr. Bradley," this was no one I recognized at first. Then I remembered.

"Oh, hello," I grinned a bit. "I was wondering when I'd speak with you again."

"I'm calling regarding your grandmother's will, which I'm sure you realized. "I'm on my way right now to discuss the terms of Stella's inheritance with you and your relatives, so excuse any poor reception on my end. Her will was interesting, to put it lightly."

"Yes," I nodded, even though he couldn’t see. "Yes, it was."

"I won't go into detail right now, because I'm pretty sure there's a cop on the corner of Magnolia and Crescent, so I just wanted to let you know that everything has cleared at the bank and your account now holds her estate. Everything else will be explained once I get there, alright?" I assured him that it was, indeed, alright before hanging up and making my way back into the lobby.

"Like you deserve it," I heard Camille hiss, for she didn't need volume for her voice to be cutting. She was passive, but her anger was what was so out of character, so shocking and harsh coupled with her genteel appearance.

"I do," he took a step away, turning his back to her and twisting a cufflink in his sleeve as a haughty look crossed his face. "She loved me most, after all."

"You’re delusional, Atticus" my mother spoke in a haughty drawl, her legs thrown over the armrest of a red velvet-covered overstuffed armchair. She took a long drag form the cigarette dangling from her fingertips, tapping ashes into an urn filled with powder-toned flowers. "The money's mine. I do need it, after all. I'm the one with three kids and a nice house to pay off."

Violet spoke indignantly, even though her voice was soft. "I am married, you know. And keeping up a house in the Hamptons--"

"Was your own stupid choice our mother is not responsible for funding," she cut her off coldly, sucking in more spoke and letting it out in a drawn-out exhale.

"Now, now. Play nice, Felicity," Priscilla smiled to show perfect teeth, reminding me of a shifty feline, as if her title as "cougar" wasn't enough. "What's done is done, no? And we won't go calling a lifestyle a mistake, considering you’re not one to talk. I doubt Raven and Zeke use the Prada bags you spend your husband's earnings on."

She just blew her off with a flick of her wrist and another putrid cloud of smoke. "Let's not get started on lifestyle, shall we? You spend enough at the sex store for your wardrobe, perfect for fishing."

"Fuck you, Lis," she snapped, cheeks turning red. "I at least have class, which is something you've always lacked." She gave her sister -- who was still draped over an armchair, for the record -- a condescending, hatred-filled look.

"Class, my ass," she rolled her steely blue-grey eyes. "The only class you know about is the senior class at Dulaney, most of which you've already had your way with."

The tone in the room shirted from cold to frigidly tense as Priscilla narrowed her own luster-lacking eyes.

"You stupid little--"

"Ladies, ladies," Atticus stepped in, literally placing himself between the two enraged women. "This is all moot, considering her estate is mine."

"That's a lie," Violet shook her head. "The lawyer hasn't told us anything yet."

"You mean, he hasn't called you," he corrected, fingers fixing his collar, now. "You wouldn't need a call if nothing was left to you."

"There's no way in hell you--"

"You’re so full of absolute cr--"

"You’re just jealous, you dumb--"

"Why, I never--!"

"You’re a dirty whore, you dirty, classless--"

I sensed the tone growing malicious, so I waved to Zack, giving him my "do something!" glare. He tried to break it up four times before he shook his head and stood.

"EVERYBODY QUIET!" he roared, blinking after he recomposed himself, seeming just as surprised as I did. Everyone obliged, from both shock and curiosity. "Rave would like to share some information."

"Mr. Bradley, the attorney who has been helping me about Stella's estate, will be here shortly. Now, please, return to your immature banter and curses before the man who has the most important information in your life gets here. Make a fabulous impression."

Needless to say, the lobby fell silent until he entered.

"Mr. Bradley," I greeted him at the door, shaking his hand and smiling a bit. "I'm Raven. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"My condolences," he was sincere, I could see it in his eyes. "Your grandmother was a remarkable woman."

"I know," I murmured. "Shall we begin? The conference room is right through here."

"Sounds good," he sighed, readjusting the papers in his hands. "I really need to stop doing inheritance cases. I always end up as the bad guy."

"I hope that's a bulletproof vest," I smiled, for this was enough for him to get the picture.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Mr. Bradley groaned quietly, taking a seat at the head of the dark wood table.

"My sentiments exactly," I agreed as Zack pulled my chair out, ever the gentleman.

"Zack, you're too sweet," I giggled. "Everyone's going to think we're an item."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." He was joking, I think.

"Oh, Zack," I groaned, for my family was already streaming in. Violet closed the door behind her and we all chose seats in silence, Stefano separating our mothers and Atticus distancing himself from his sisters.

"You all know why I'm here," Mr. Bradley began, sounding tired already. "And I am hoping we can do this like mature adults. I've heard some less than flattering reviews of your behavior regarding your mother's will, and I do hope you understand the severity of your actions."

Everyone paused with bated breath, as if he was announcing he could snatch their almost-riches out from under their noses.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves," his voice was cold and somber, sharp enough to cause the five siblings to avert their eyes. "This is your mother we're talking about, not winning the lottery. If you are unable grasp the concept that this is already decided, then I do not think we will be able to continue."

He was bluffing, but bluffing very well. He was already paid and this was clearly out of his job description, so I thanked him with a small nod. I knew he understood from the small wink he shot my way.

"Now," he continued, not waiting for any form of agreement before getting down to business. "I can do this one of two ways, some of which will end better than others. I can take you aside separately, or I can simply read off what it says, straight from her will. Which would you prefer?"

The answer didn’t surprise him, for he stayed put. "I do hope no hard feelings will result, but this seems inevitable with your group. If any troubles do arise, I will have no trouble calling the authorities. But," he drew a short, steadying breath, his dark eyes landing on every one of the siblings and then for a second on me, "I'd like to think that we won't have that problem tonight. Are we clear?"

"I think we're clear," I assured, giving the room a sweeping look of my own.

"Very good," he drew another breath, this one let out in a sigh. "Stella Saffron Vincenzo has donated the extent of her estate to several organizations across the nation, as well as overseas, for -- and this is a direct quote -- 'for money was only an object, yet it was an object that managed to tear my entire family apart.'"

I'd never seen my mother cry, but the tears that now lingered near her cheekbones were genuine. I found it quite ironic that the only time she shed true tears, it was because of a lie Mr. Bradley had been well-trained to recite; none of us thought my family would take kindly to my being her heir.

"Of course, a few of her personal belongings have been distributed, each with a personal sentiment for the receiver. Because of the personal nature of the contents, no one deemed it necessary to open them, as I'm sure you realized."

He drew several envelopes and small boxes from the contents of his briefcase, setting them down on the dark wood table so we could read the carefully scrawled names on the ivory envelopes attached to each one.

"Felicity Bell Vincenzo-Mason," he read from Stella's will, now. "As my eldest child and first daughter, I leave you the silver Tiffany baby rattle your grandfather gifted me when I was still pregnant with you. It has been a prized possession of mine for many years, and I hope you will appreciate it, too."

"A rattle?" she asked, not unkindly, for once. "Does it mean something?" she murmured, glassy eyes rising to meet Mr. Bradley's.

"That is not for me to know," he answered, gently but brusquely, before continuing. "Now, Priscilla Genevieve Vincenzo... to you, I have left you topaz earrings I bought while I was in India. They are prized and should be treated and worn with the utmost care and confidence." I smiled to myself; Stella had taught me once about the meanings of gemstones. Topaz, I think, was meant for focus and clarity. If Priscilla needed anything, it was a little less lust and more logical thinking.

"Camille Evangeline Vincenzo-Carter; to you, I leave fine gold and jade earrings found in Japan. May you wear them in good health and even better fortune." This time it was self-explanatory, yet the sentiment was just as sweet; she had always been a dreamer, but she was always reluctant to act on them for fear of failure. Little did she know, shortly after this meeting, she would go on to open her own practice, her various degrees in psychology proudly hung on the wall behind her desk. Soon enough, her office would soon become one of the most respected, crowded and well-regarded in New York.

"Violet Evangeline Mason-Lewis, I have left you a necklace of tiger's eye, something I bought from a quirky Russian merchant. May this stone's qualities benefit your heart, soul, mind and body." Tiger's eye was useful for overcoming fear and negativity and transforming it to prosperity and productivity. My timid aunt could definitely use a catalyst in that aspect; her younger brother shoving his weight around when it came to her was nearly painful to witness.

"Atticus Braxton Vincenzo, my only son and youngest child, I leave you a plain gold ring I bought near Paris. Wear this ring with honor, dignity and a level head."

I couldn't help but crack a smile at how carefully she worded that one.

"Stefano Salvatore Vincenzo; left to you is a sapphire ring I purchased in Spain. I saw it and thought of you, and I hope my instincts were not off." Sapphire, perfect for our family as a stone of mental and spiritual clarity. Stefano pulled it from the box and slid it onto his finger, smiling at how perfect the gothic-inspired piece was and even more pleased when it fit.

"Ember Rose Mason, these amethyst earrings shall are intended to help you in all spiritual endeavors. Wear them well." This was of great importance, for the stone was perfect for honing her talent and coming in control of it. Rose knew it, too, for she put them on and sat just a little straighter, eyes a touch brighter.

"Zachary Steven Merrick; as an extraordinary young man and skilled musician, I leave you silver and lapis-lazuli cuff-links. I do hope they benefit as they were intended to." This time, the stone was meant for strengthening the tie between heart and mind, something I didn't quite understand at the time, but became much, much clearer much, much later.

"Now, Saffron Raven Mason…" Mr. Bradley paused, finding picking up the last box on the table and handing it to me with a half-smile. This part surprised me, for even I hadn't thought of coming up with a ruse this solid; Stella even thought to leave me something small, I assumed, so no one would grow suspicious.

"To you, I leave a ruby choker I found whilst traveling through Italy, and it is believed to be from the turn of the century. Think of me whenever you wear this, mio cuore."

I brushed tears from my cheeks and Zack reached out for it, pulling the necklace around my collarbone, draping it gently and clasping it. Rubies, if I remembered correctly, were symbolic of allowing true love to enter your heart and life.

Stella was clever, even in all of her years.