2 - Home

It was a grey and dreary morning in Montreal, and the soft tapping at the windows suggested it was raining.  That was perfect, as far as Ariana Moretti was concerned, because she was feeling grey and dreary, too. 

It felt like just yesterday that she was visiting her grandmother and now she would never get a chance to visit again.  Ariana was out on the road preparing for a show last week when she got the call that Mamie was gone.

The woman on the phone spoke with such coldness that it sent a chill down her spine.  She explained that Mrs. Leblanc's wishes were to have no funeral or memorial, merely a cremation.  Only once it was done, did she want Ariana to be contacted, which was why the impersonally frigid woman was calling now.  She asked Ariana to retrieve the ashes and documents that were left for her – when she got a moment. 

When I get a moment?  Of course I can come by! She’s my Mamie for Christ’s sake, not some fucking package!

Having no appetite to eat now that the morning of her appointment with Fournier-Tremblay, avocats had arrived, she made herself a cup of coffee and mentally prepared herself for what lie ahead.  It was going to be an emotional day, and she dressed to give herself the confidence to get through it. 

A final check in the mirror ensured that everything was in place, so Ariana left her room at the breathtaking Le Saint-James Hotel.  It was one of her favorite places to stay, and she loved the cute little gift shop in the lobby.  It had everything a guest could possibly need, and this morning she needed an umbrella for her walk to the law offices that were just a stone’s throw away. 

The bellman wished her a good morning while holding the door, and Ariana dipped her head when passing by. 

“Mercì.”

Once outside the hotel, it took only the push of a button to open her newly purchased umbrella.  There was a purpose in her stride as she dodged puddles and other pedestrians.  On any other day, she would have taken her time and enjoyed the familiar atmosphere of the city, but not today.  There were important matters at hand, and her only interest was in tending to them.

The walk was a short one, and Ariana quickly arrived at 450 Saint-Gabriel Street to close her umbrella and give it a quick shake.  The oak doors were heavy under her hand and opened to a lobby area that was as quiet as any library. 

The receptionist behind the desk looked up with an expectant smile, which Ariana returned before asking quietly, “Excuse me.  Can you tell me where the offices of Fournier-Tremblay, avocats are located?”

“It’s Suite 150.  Down the hall, on the left.”

“Mercì.”

“Bìenvenue.”

Placing her hand on the brass knob of Suite 150, she twisted it ever so lightly and pushed the door open.  Inside there was a middle-aged woman sitting behind a cherry mahogany desk.

“Bonjour!” she greeted Ariana.  “Je peux vous aider? Can I help you?”

“Yes.  I’m Ariana Moretti.  I’m here to see Mr. Tremblay.”

“Just a moment please.” The women picked up her phone and spoke softly into it.  Ariana tried to make out what she was saying, when the receive went back into the cradle.  “Monsieur Tremblay will be right with you.”

As she waited, Ariana looked around the office.  The decor was simple but chic; they had nice antiques which blended perfectly with the stone wall behind the receptionist.  Many of the patrimonial buildings in this area had been renovated and stripped, but the stone infrastructure was kept as is.  Some of the buildings were 200 years old and she was in one of them. Ariana walked over to the windows to take in the view. It was one of the things she loved most about this city, Old Montreal was just beautiful.

“Mademoiselle Moretti?  Please follow me.”

She was taken into a small conference room.  Upon entering, she was greeted by a silvered hair gentleman who extended his hand. "Hello, I'm Monsieur Fernand Tremblay.”

"Hello.  I’m Ariana Moretti.  It’s a pleasure to meet you."

"Mrs. Moretti let's get right to this, shall we?"

"It's Ms."

"My condolences to you Ms. Moretti.  As you know your grandmother did not have a formal will, only this letter, which she hired me to give to you on her passing.  I will give you some privacy while you read it and be back in a few moments.”

He placed the monogrammed envelope on the table in front of her and left. 

Ariana gazed at the envelope for a few moments. Her fingers gently traced the lilac initials in the left corner.  Closing her eyes, she brought the letter to her nose and could smell the scent of her Grandmother’s favorite perfume. 

You can do this!  What are you waiting for? Open it!  

Reaching for the letter opener he had left her, she turned the envelope over and opened it.

Ma bien-aimée Ariana,

Where do I begin my sweet child?  You were the one constant in my life, which made me want to stay in this world, when your grand-papa left me to be with the angels.  I am with them and him now. Please don’t be sad. I lived a long beautiful life and have no regrets. The summers we had together were some of my fondest memories.  I watched you grow into the beautiful amazing woman you are today. All I ever wanted for you was happiness. Are you happy? I sure hope you are. 

Our times in the bar were the happiest I saw you.  How at ease you were while you were there. Whether you were working the room or just hanging out, you always had a smile on your face.  I've always wanted you to be happy, that is why I am leaving you the bar.

Now, now! Don’t you go and cry on me! If it wasn’t for you, that bar would have been long gone by now.  But it is who you are today. It is in your blood.

I do have one condition; you are not allowed sell it. Keep it as an investment, stay in Montreal to run it, work when you want, or just hang out in it.  Max will help you with whatever you need. Just be happy with it.

Until we meet again,

Grand-maman Lili

xxx

Ariana clutched the letter to her heart as a set of tears rolled down her cheeks.

Petit Soho is mine!

Memories of the times she spent there were flashing through her head.  Some good, some not so good. She was lost in one particular memory when she heard the door open. Folding the letter and putting it back on the table, she turned to look at Mr. Tremblay.

He took a seat next to Ariana in one of the high-backed leather chairs.

“I see you’ve had time to read the letter.  As you’ve read, Madame LeBlanc has left you her business.  Along with that, comes a generous bank account. I have already taken the liberty of drawing up the documents to transfer everything into your name.  I have marked each page where your initials and signature are needed. It should take about two weeks for the paperwork to go through, and you will be set. Do you have any questions?”

Clearing her throat, she picked up the papers in front of her and began scanning them.  “Before I sign any of this, do I need someone to look them over first? Or can I trust you have taken care of everything?”

“Yes, everything has been taken care of according to your Grandmother’s wishes, so there is no need for that.  Petit Soho is yours; these papers are just transferring the certificates of ownership of the business and property to your name.”

“I see.  Well, then let’s get started.”  Ariana began flipping through the papers, each carefully marked with a post-it where she needed to place her initials or signature.

When she came to the last page, she paused for a moment.

“This is it! Once I sign this, it’s all mine.” 

Ariana Moretti.

Putting the pen down she handed the stack of papers back to Mr. Tremblay. 

“As you already know, Madame LeBlanc had an exceptional staff.  Max will continue to look after things and will help you with anything else you need.”

With that, he collected the papers to stand, and Ariana did the same. He handed her his business card.

“If there is anything you need, please feel free to call.  When the official documents arrive, I will contact you.”

They continued to the reception area together, where he handed the papers to his receptionist and said good-bye.

The woman behind the desk handed Ariana a white envelope with the name “Urgel Bourgie, maison funéraire”. 

“You can pick up your grandmother’s remains whenever you are ready.  Just present them this letter.”

Pushing open the doors and stepping out into the crisp air, she took in a deep breath and exhaled.  The rain had stopped and the sun was trying its best to smile its way through the clouds. She strolled back to the hotel, soaking up the architecture this beautiful city had to offer and reminisced of the times she spent here. 

This city, which she would have to call home from now on.