Breaking the Chain (18 page)

             
           
             
             
                            
32
             
 

             
             
What a terrible day for a funeral, Mary thought sadly as she watched Father Mackeldown and the three other mourners leave the gravesite and hurry to safety of their cars.
             
"We better be going, Mary. The rain's worsening," Jack urged in a hushed voice.
             
She nodded and tossed the single rose she carried onto Elizavon's casket. "Goodbye, Aunt Elizavon," she murmured in a sad voice. "I hope your new life is better than your old one. Rest in peace."
             
Bolts of thunder boomed overhead and
zigzag
streaks of lightning flashed across the sky as she and Jack hurried to the rental car parked nearby. "Where to now?" he asked, navigating the rain-flooded road to the main highway. "Do you want to go back to DeeDee's, or get something to eat?"
             
"Lunch, I think," Mary suggested. "I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of coffee." She shook her head sadly. "I still can't believe that only three other people came to Aunt Elizavon's funeral. That's disgraceful."
             
"Mary, your aunt wasn't a very nice woman. Why would anybody want to go to the funeral of somebody who'd only been rude or mean to them? From what I've heard about your aunt, she's lucky three other people showed up. Your own sister wouldn't even go."
             
"I know, but I just hate that things turned out the way they did," Mary said. "First the bad weather, then nobody showing up except the attorney, butler, and maid. It's a terrible way to be buried, Jack. It's...so sad."
             
He reached over and patted her hand. "But she wasn't alone at the end, Mary. You were there when she died, and you were at the funeral. Elizavon did have somebody there who cared for her, so that ought to count for something."
             
She squeezed his fingers. "Thanks, Jack. You're such a good person. I'm so glad I found you."
             
"Yeah, well, that's enough of that. What about lunch?" he asked, switching the conversation to a lighter topic.
             
"Sounds good. I could go for something to eat."
             
"What about the South End? The paper said there's a couple new restaurants that are supposed to have outstanding food."
             
She shook her head. "I don't know. They're probably crowded."
             
"Reason enough. You need a crowd to cheer you up. Besides, Elizavon's attorney isn't far from there. What time do we have to be in his office?"
             
"Three." She stared out the window. "I still don't feel right about this, Jack. I mean, after all, we just put her in the ground. Meeting with her lawyer the same day is kind of cold and calculating."
             
He switched the wipers to high as the thunderstorm intensified. "Look, Mary. It's your call. If you feel uncomfortable meeting with him, that's okay with me. We can reschedule the appointment for another day."
             
She sighed deeply. "I don't know what to do. Maybe we ought to get it over with so we can go home. I only have a few days left of vacation, and I'd like to spend them in my own house."
             
"It's up to you, baby. Whatever you want to do is okay. If you don't want to meet with Charles, then don't."
             
"I still can't figure out why he wants to meet with us," she said in a puzzled tone. "I'll bet Aunt Elizavon left everything she had to her favorite charities. She didn't believe in leaving money to relatives; said it made them useless members of society that preyed off of other people's hard work. If I've heard that statement once, I've heard it a hundred times." She gazed out the window, thinking about her sister DeeDee, and how her sister's outlook on life had changed since their parents' death.
             
"You know, I hate to say it, but in a way, Aunt Elizavon might have been right. Look at my sister, DeeDee. I love her dearly, but ever since she got her half of Mom and Dad's insurance money, all she's done is squander it on lavish vacations and parties. She only works when she absolutely has to, and because of that her landscape company's starting to get a bad reputation. I couldn't believe it when she told me she'd gone through forty thousand dollars in less than three years. She doesn't have a single thing to show for it, either. What's she going to do when the money runs out? By then, she won't have a viable business to fall back on. How will she live?"
             
Jack squeezed her hand. "That's DeeDee's problem, not yours. She's a big girl and will probably land on her feet. People like DeeDee always do. They're survivors. She'll manage, believe me." He patted her arm in sympathy. "I know you've been through the ringer these past couple of days, but I want you to try and forget about what's happened. Elizavon was an old woman. Nothing you or anybody else could have done would have changed the outcome of her illness. It was her time to go. I hate to say this, but she's the one who's dead--not you. There's no sense moping about her being gone. It might sound cruel, but life does go on, with or without your aunt."
             
"You're right." She took a deep breath. "It's just that everything seems so dismal right now. I really thought she'd pull through. I'm sorry I've been such a wet blanket."
             
"Don't worry about it, baby. The main thing is that you're okay. I want you to promise me that you'll concentrate on enjoying lunch. After all, it isn't every day we get time to ourselves, and I can't remember the last time we went to a decent restaurant. Okay?"
             
She smiled. "Okay. I'll try." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
             
"Don't try, Mary. Just do it. I know you can."
             
She grinned and placed the palms and fingertips of her hands together. "Yes, master. Whatever you say, master."
             
The dimple in his cheek widened. "That's more like it. You know, I think I like you as the obedient little wife. Now, if I could only get to you to obey my every command."
             
"Fat chance," she giggled as he pulled the car into a nearby parking spot.
             
"Oh well, it was worth a shot." Holding the umbrella aloft, he came around to her side of the car and escorted her across the busy street.
             
"Your best table, please. Something romantic, with a view worthy of my beautiful companion," Jack muttered in his most dramatic gigolo voice as the waitress approached them.
             
"Sure, whatever you say, lover boy," the waitress responded in a disinterested tone. "One secluded table with a view, coming right up," she continued in an utterly bored voice. Motioning them forward, she started across the room.
             
Unable to keep a straight face, Mary burst out laughing. "You know, I'm feeling better already," she announced as they weaved their way through the maze of tables.
             
Jack flashed her a look of pure mischief. "That, my dear, was the whole idea," he announced in a voice that perfectly mimicked their waitress.
             
Some two hours later, they presented themselves at the attorney's office. Mary wasn't quite sure what kind of office she'd expected Charles to have since he had worked exclusively for her aunt, but it was obvious that he didn't believe in excessive displays of wealth. The reception area was tastefully decorated, but not unduly so. It was, in fact, quite pleasing to the eye, with richly paneled walls and warm, earth-toned furniture, but certainly not up to Elizavon's scale of grandeur.
             
They didn't have to wait long. Some five minutes after they arrived, Charles appeared and escorted them into his private office.
             
"Please, make yourselves comfortable," he urged. "This won't take long."
             
"Why are we here, Mr. Charles?" Mary asked, perching on the edge of her chair. "And why so soon after my aunt's funeral?"
             
He stared at Mary for a moment, then cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. "Yes, well, your aunt left specific instructions for me to give you some papers the same day as her funeral," he announced in an embarrassed tone. "Believe me, it wasn't my idea. She was most insistent about this meeting being held within six hours of her burial."
             
"Why? What's the hurry?" Mary asked, puzzled. "She didn't leave anything to me, so why force this meeting?"
             
He shrugged his shoulders and thumbed through the stack of papers on his desk. "Yes, well, you're not entirely correct, Mary. Actually, she did leave something to you--her half of the plantation."
             
Mary felt her jaw drop. "What? She left me her half of the plantation?" She eyed the attorney, who shifted uneasily in his chair. "What's the catch?" she asked, noticing his discomfort. "There's bound to be one. Aunt Elizavon never did anything for the sake of being nice. I learned that one the hard way last year."
             
He ran a finger around the inside of his collar. "It's only a small stipulation.
In return for her half of the plantation, she wanted you to take care of the disposition of her paintings and houses.
The paintings are to be sent to auction, with the proceeds going to the Home
for
Unwed Mothers that her trust is setting up."
             
Mary snorted derisively. "And how am I supposed to do that when I work full-time?"
             
"It's not that bad," Charles interrupted. "Her will stipulates that we can hire your company and Jack's to do the inventory, but you and Jack must do the actual work. Additionally, you are to accompany the paintings to auction in New York. Your aunt didn't trust the courier services."
             
"I see," Mary said, rising from her chair. "Is that it?"
             
"Er, not quite. Please, have a seat. The rest won't take long, I promise."
             
Sighing, Mary resumed her perch on the edge of the chair while Charles rifled through the papers on his desk. She glanced toward Jack, who shook his head and held up one hand, indicating they'd discuss matters once they left the attorney's office.
             
"Ah, here we are," Charles said in a satisfied tone as he removed two envelopes from the pile. "She left these for you, Mary." He pushed the sealed envelopes across the desk and watched quietly as she examined them.
             
"Any idea what's in here?" she asked finally. "Are...are these the letters Aunt Elizavon mentioned at the hospital?"
             
He nodded. "I believe they are; although I have no idea what's in them. Mrs. Phelps gave them to me just the way you see them, and told me to hold on to them until she died. If for some reason you refused to take them, they were to be destroyed unopened. Sorry, but that's all I know."
             
Mary rubbed her chin with her free hand. "Well, this certainly wasn't what I expected. I'll need to get back in touch with you in a few days, if that's all right."
             
He nodded. "That's fine, Mary. I figured this would come as a shock and you'd need a couple of days to get everything sorted out. Why don't you call me in, say, three or four days, and we'll take it from there." He glanced at Jack, who'd remained silent the entire time. "It's been a pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."
             
"Same here," Jack replied, shaking the attorney's outstretched hand. "If you're ever in our area, we'd be happy to put you up at the plantation. You'd be surprised how well it's turned out."
             
Charles grinned. "So I hear. Evidently you two did quite a job restoring it. Mrs. Phelps was quite impressed." He studied Jack's face for a moment. "I take it she didn't bother to mention that to either of you?"
             
"No, she didn't," Jack said, his smile taking the sting out of his words. "Well, I'm sure you're busy, so unless there's anything else, we'd better be on our way. Thanks for everything. We'll call you in a few days to sort out all the details." Waving to the attorney, he placed one hand under Mary's arm and guided her out of the room.
             
"Are you okay?" he asked when they returned to the car.
             
Mary nodded. "Yeah. I'm just surprised my aunt left us her interest in the plantation. That was the last thing I expected."
             
"Yeah, well, that kinda surprised me, too. Maybe I was wrong about her." He glanced at the two envelopes Mary clutched in her left hand. "You gonna open them?"
             
She turned the letters over, stared at the spidery scrawl on the front. "I don't know. I've been asking myself that same question."
             
"They must be important; otherwise Elizavon wouldn't have stipulated that you were the only one to get them."
             
She shook her head. "Maybe. Maybe not. What if they contain something I'd be better off not knowing? Something about my mother or father that's better left unsaid? Knowing the way my aunt hated my dad, I wouldn't put it past her to relish telling me all the gory details of some so-called indiscretion he committed."