Free Unexpected Riches (Bellingwood Book 13) by Diane Greenwood Muir Page A

now."
    Polly sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Beryl Watson's brothers showed up at her house early in the morning. When did they tell her they were coming?"
    "The poor girl got an email from Melvin. He and Harold needed to speak with her."
    "At nine o'clock in the morning. It couldn't wait until later in the day," Polly said.
    Lydia nodded. "The worst thing is that the email arrived at six o'clock this morning."
    "At least they didn't show up on her doorstep with no notice."
    "They knew what they were doing," Lydia said through gritted teeth. "Those boys have no respect for their sister."
    Beryl rarely talked about her family and Polly had never met her brothers. It was hard to imagine that they didn't have anything to do with her. No, once Polly thought about it, that wasn't hard to imagine at all. Most people in Bellingwood didn't have much to do with Beryl. She was her own person and lived her own life, seemingly oblivious to what others thought.
    "What are they like?" Polly blurted out.
    "Melvin is just like his father. When he was younger, he drove a propane truck. Good honest work. He has two daughters who married men a lot like their daddy. I don't know what they do. Harold worked as a welder down in Boone until he had to stop. Then he went to work for the county roads department. I think he retired a couple of years ago. He and Pat had six kids and between them, they have at least twenty grandkids and there might even be a couple of great-grandkids by now."
    "And Beryl isn't involved in any of their lives? None of them want to be associated with a famous artist?"
    Lydia smiled a sad smile. "She tried when her nieces and nephews were young. She'd go to Christmas parties and attempted to go to their school events, but I think she embarrassed her brothers because she wasn't bland like they were." Lydia sniffed. "She even dressed down for them, but the poor woman doesn't own plain navy blue or brown anything. Then one day she realized that nobody had told her when school events were happening. She was invited to their weddings, but the kids didn't know her any longer. She'd never been allowed to be part of their lives once they were through elementary school. Beryl sent gifts - she still does. She goes to weddings and if there is a public event like a baptism at church or a graduation, she's always there."
    "Wow," Polly said. "She's better than me. I've never attempted to get involved in Uncle Will's kids' lives."
    "He's not your brother, though," Lydia replied. "It was his responsibility to be involved in your life. Not only was he not involved, but he blatantly told your father that he wanted nothing to do with you. It's a little different."
    "I suppose. But this has to be hard on Beryl."
    "It is. And the thing that just raises my ire is that those damned brothers of hers still think that after all of that, they have a right to disrespect her." Lydia pulled her right hand into a fist and shook it. "If she'd just let me at 'em one time. I'd give those boys a piece of my mind."
    Polly chuckled. "Beryl always gives people a piece of her mind. I can't believe she doesn't say anything to her brothers."
    "Isn't it funny," Lydia said. "After all these years, she's afraid that they'll cut her off completely from their families." She snarled. "Like they haven't already. But at least it's still amicable and Beryl desperately wants it to stay that way. She'll put up with anything from them."
    Camille came over to the table with a box and a cup. "I went ahead and made your regular, Polly," she said. "Is that what you wanted?"
    Polly took the cup from her and held it against her chest. "It's exactly what I wanted. Thank you."
    "Sylvie says she didn't put any poison in the muffins." Camille put the box down in front of Lydia.
    "Rats," Lydia said. "Just a little to make them feel sick to their stomachs?"
    Camille laughed. "Not this week."
    "Tell her thank you." Lydia pressed some bills into Camille's hand. "Thank you very