Felix was the first to wake and after he checked up on Wyatt to make sure he was alright, he let his buddy sleep in. One of the only benefits to being let go, there was no job to be late for the next day. Felix kept himself busy that morning, cleaning the dishes in the sink, sweeping the floor, and even doing a bit of dusting. He was cooking something up for breakfast when Wyatt eventually emerged from his bedroom with a look on his face that told his friend how awful his hangover was. Wyatt walked into the bathroom without saying a word and washed up, brushed his teeth and took a long pee before finally coming back out and into the kitchen. “You crashed here?” Wyatt asked, realizing Felix was there.

  “That’s what friends do,” Felix said, as he poured a cup of coffee from the pet he brewed up. “You needed help and I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

  “Thanks,” Wyatt said, taking the coffee. “I don’t remember very much.”

  “No problem, good buddy.” Felix said, smiling. “That’s what social media is for. If you still had a job, you would have been fired today anyway after all the crazy shit we did last night.”

  “It was that bad?” Wyatt asked, groaning as he took another sip.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Felix replied, “I was there to keep you in check. You did it when I was down, I was more than happy to return the favor.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.” Wyatt said, thinking about it. “And why didn’t you cut loose with me? That’s why I went to find you.”

  “Common sense,” Felix answered, as he passed his friend a plate of food that was some softly scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and toast that was crunchy but not burnt. “You were on a tear, and I knew if I joined you, we’d both be in lock up right now waiting for our arraignment instead of eating this lovely breakfast. I like to think I made the right decision.”

  “You did, I should have known better.” Wyatt said, showing regret.

  “Don’t go there,” Felix scolded him, “You were fired, and you needed to blow off some steam. I’ve been there and I understood. Now that you got it out of your system, you can brush yourself off and get back on that horse!”

  “Not yet,” Wyatt disagreed, “I want to take a few days off, not to just blow off steam either. To collect myself and really think about what I wanted to do next.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Felix concurred, “Clear your head and not make any rash decisions while the pain and emotions are still fresh. I like it.”

  “I’m still young,” Wyatt started, “I could use my savings and go back to school.”

  “Really?” Felix replied, surprised a bit by that. “Have you seen the state of universities these days? All whiney social justice snowflakes. I don’t think I could handle four minutes of that, let alone a few years of post-grad.”

  “Ugh, good point,” Wyatt said, as he continued eating his breakfast. “Maybe I could do a trade, and learn a good employable skill?”

  “No offense, bud.” Felix said, trying not to laugh in his face. “But you and Manuel don’t get along that well.”

  “Manuel?” Wyatt repeated as he didn’t get the reference.

  “As in Manuel Labor,” Felix added, “You’re not a laborer, man. That means a trade would not work out that well… not unless you’re willing to get your ass kicked by a lifetime of hard, honest work.”

  “Another good point,” Wyatt said, gnawing on a piece of bacon. “I might be okay with that, but maybe we should take a breather. Like you said, not make decisions too quickly and think things through.”

  “A wise decision,” Felix said, as he served his own meal. “But let’s not wait too long, last thing I want is you crashing on my couch next time.”

  “Not going to happen,” Wyatt informed him, “I had been banking all my bonuses and I’ve got a good bit saved to hold out a while if I need to. I might lose the chance to take a sweet vacation, but I hadn’t planned anything yet.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Felix countered, “Maybe you don’t have to cancel your trip. You could still travel.”

  “Maybe, but I might pass.” Wyatt responded, “I’m in the mood to just take things easy, relax, and collect myself. The last thing I want is something else to get dumped onto my lap. I need to be left alone and have a chance to regroup. Let’s cut our losses before things get worse.”

  Just as Wyatt said that there was a loud knock at the door. The two men looked at each other then back at the door.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Felix asked.

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  “I’m not sure,” Wyatt answered, “Usually I’m at work this time of day, so I’d probably say no.”

  “Hello!” Felix called out.

  “What are you doing?” Wyatt whispered, slapping his friend on the arm. “What if it’s the cops, coming to get us from something we did last night?”

  “It’s not,” Felix replied, “And no, you didn’t do anything that bad.”

  “Are you sure?” Wyatt asked.

  “Positive,” Felix replied, “I was sober as shit.”

  “I’m sorry.” Wyatt apologized.

  “Shit happens.” Felix said, “Sometimes gotta you take one for the team.”

  “Thanks man,” Wyatt said.

  “No problemo, Kemosabe.” Felix said, looking back at the door.

  “So,” Wyatt started, “What do we do about this person?”

  “I’m not sure.” Felix replied.

  “I can hear you,” a voice called out from behind the door. “It’s very rude to not open the door for guests.”

  “This is the city, man.” Felix countered, “We don’t open the door unless we’re absolutely sure about who’s on the other side. City folks are known for being a paranoid bunch, and for good reason.”

  “Fair enough,” The man on the other side said, “Then I shall wait here until your paranoia resolves itself.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Wyatt called out, “And what are you doing here?”

  “My name is Gerald Witherspoon,” the voice replied, “And I’m here to speak to someone named Wyatt Sebastian Harris.”

  “Sebastian?” Felix said, with a raised eyebrow.

  “What?” Wyatt said, shrugging it off. “My Dad loved that name because he was a huge fan of the Neverending Story…”

  “But the kid in the movie was named Bastian,” Felix said.

  “Which is short for Sebastian,” Wyatt added.

  “Oh, I didn’t know that.” Felix admitted.

  “Mom liked it for other reasons,” Wyatt continued, “She was a huge fan of Skid Row…”

  “Too much, dude.” Felix said, holding up a hand to stop him.

  “I agree,” the voice outside agreed, “T.M.I., good Sir.”

  “Gerald,” Wyatt finally called out, “Why are you here?”

  “To see Wyatt Harris,” he repeated, “It is urgent that I speak with him, as it concerns his great uncle; Lord Crawford of Loonsburg.”

  “Lord Crawford?” Felix said, looking back at Wyatt. “Dude, you never told me that your Great Uncle was a Lord of something.”

  Wyatt shrugged as he thought about it for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it that much. To be honest, it’s been almost ten years since the last time I saw him.”

  “Then what is this about?” Felix asked.

  “Let’s find out,” Wyatt said was he walked away to the door and opened it up. Standing outside the door was a young man that looked to only be a few years older than Wyatt. He was cleaned up, wearing glasses, and had a rather spiffy suit. He was carrying an attaché case and was smiling as the door opened.

  “Wyatt Harris?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Wyatt said, reaching out to shake his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Gerald. Please, come in.”

  Wyatt watched as the well-dressed man strolled in and closed the door after. He watched as Gerald walked into what was the living room and took one off the single chairs that was available, leaving the couch the other men to occupy.

  “I do not come bearing good news.” Gerald started, “And I must apologize for being the bearer of such sadness.”

  “What’s happened?” Wyatt asked.

  “Your great uncle has passed away.” Gerald answered, “He died peacefully in his sleep and without any attention, as he wanted it to be.”

  “Shit,” Wyatt said as the news finally hit like a sucker punch to the gut. He hadn’t seen the old man in a long time, and honestly, he was surprised the old fart had even lasted this long. Quite impressive when Wyatt realized he hadn’t seen the old man since Great Aunt Mary’s service to mark her anniversary. That event was over ten years ago, but he remembered speaking to him like it was yesterday.

  “Sorry to hear that man,” Felix finally replied, “No matter how little or how much you know someone… losing family sucks.”

  “Indeed,” Gerald concurred, “His loss was quite devastating to many. His lordship was a great man that was admired by many.”

  “What exactly was he the Lord of again?” Felix asked.

  “He was Lord of Loonsburg,” Gerald answered, “This township covers a rather impressive piece of territory on the southern region of Ireland.”

  “Ireland?” Wyatt repeated, surprised. “I had no idea he was an Irish Lord.”

  “How the hell did he become a Lord?” Felix then asked, “How does anyone?”

  “The title was created by the crown,” Gerald explained, “A reward the monarch gives to a person who has served them well, as well as for service and loyalty. Once that title is created, it is passed down through the family tree from one generation to the next until there is no one left to inherit it or if the crown revokes it.”

  “That’s pretty cool,” Felix said, learning something new.

  “It is,” Wyatt agreed, “But why are you here to see me?”

  “Well,” Gerald started, “I’m unsure how well you knew your great uncle, but you are listed in his final will and testament. You are only one of three people mentioned. You see his lordship only married once, but his wife passed away before they could have any children. He never remarried and has no descendant.”

  “So, that means it’s all over?” Felix asked.

  “No, it doesn’t.” Gerald said as he reached into his case and pulled out a single small envelope. “I am instructed to give you this to read. It will answer your questions.”

  Wyatt took the letter and opened it. It was a letter from his late great uncle. The old man had kept in touch with his mother over the years, and even helped her out whenever she needed it since it was hard raising Wyatt by herself without his father. Her uncle had always been supportive of her career in nursing, to the point where he even covered her tuition and has been a part of their lives for a very long time though he was mostly out of sight. Wyatt then got to the end of the letter and stared at it and what it told him. The old man kept tabs on his throughout his life after they had met in the church, and he had deemed Wyatt worthy based on what he had seen. Wyatt stopped reading and looked up at Gerald.

  “Have you read this?” he asked.

  “I typed it out for him while he dictated it to me.” Gerald answered. “So yes, I know exactly what it says.”

  “What does it say?” Felix asked.

  “It’s mine.” Wyatt said, looking back at his friend.

  “Yes, it is.” Gerald agreed. “Do you need something, a drink maybe?”

  “Hold on,” Felix interrupted, “What is going on?”

  “He left it to me,” Wyatt answered. “He actually left it to me.”

  “Does that mean what I think it means?” Felix asked.

  “Yes,” Gerald answered, “Wyatt Harris, you have inherited your Great Uncle’s title and all that comes with it. You are the new Lord of Loonsburg.”