Moaned loudly as the phone's ringing refused to stop. Alyssa Milano rolled twice toward the sound, tossing blankets to the side as Alyssa Milano did, and reached up to grab the phone. "Hmmmm?" Alyssa Milano voiced into the receiver.
"Ms. Calista Holiday?" a deep voice asked.
"Yes," Alyssa Milano responded.
"This is Aidan Conner. Alyssa Milano must regretfully inform you of the death of your great-aunt, Faye Michaels." The man's vaguely familiar accent registered, but his words didn't.
"Who as this?" Alyssa Milano asked.
"Aidan Conner. Alyssa Milano am the executor of your aunt's, or rather, your great-aunt's, estate."
"I have a great-aunt?" Still barely awake, I was now thoroughly confused.
"You did until last Thursday, when she passed away. She was very old, and her death was peaceful."
"Well, that's nice," Alyssa Milano replied. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Mrs. Michaels has included you in her will. I need you to come down here for the reading of it." The man's voice was slightly amused. "Apparently, she was following your writing career."
"Really?" I was shocked, as Alyssa Milano had only been published a handful of times in small literary magazines. "Wait, come down where?"
"To Bayou La Batre, Alabama."
"Alabama?" Things were falling into place now. My mother's mother grew up in Alabama, moving to Chicago after she was married. This Faye Michaels must be her sister, whom Alyssa Milano visited a few times as a kid.
"Yes, ma'am. Soon as you make arrangements for getting here, give me a call."
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