Previously Loved Treasures (Serendipity #2)(33)

A War of Wills





Before the supper table was cleared the battle lines had been drawn. Although such a thought had never before been mentioned, Max insisted he’d moved in fully expecting to one day inherit the house built by his brother. It was noticeable how Max no longer referred to Big Jim by name; he was now “my brother.”

Doctor Payne, a stickler for formalities, stood squarely behind Max. As the others squabbled across the table, Payne stood and cleared his throat loudly. “Given the absence of a will, the court would have no recourse but to turn the estate over to a blood relative.”

“Ah,” Louie grumped, “so now you’re a brain surgeon and a lawyer?”

“That remark was uncalled for,” Payne shot back. “I am simply stating a fact.”

Although generally not one to step into the fray, Laricka spoke up. “Even if there is no will I know for a fact Ida wanted Caroline to have the house.”

Payne held his adversarial position and stood firm. “And how exactly do you know that?”

“Ida was a grandma just as I am,” Laricka answered, “and there isn’t a grandma in the world who’d choose her brother-in-law over her grandchild.” She leaned back into her chair, obviously pleased with the rationale.

“Garbage!” Max shouted. “Irrational, bullshit garbage! It was my brother who built this house and—”

“Hold on!” Wilbur held his hand up. “Doctor Payne may not be a lawyer, but I was and I can say with certainty that who thinks what is of no relevance. This is not an issue of opinion. Ownership of the house will eventually be determined by the legal document stating Ida’s intent. Right now we don’t have a copy of her will. I know it exists but—”

Harriet drained the glass of bourbon she’d brought to dinner and hiccupped. “Sorry.”

Wilbur completed his thought. “The challenge will be to find it.”

Caroline sat at the end of the table with her plate of runny macaroni untouched. So far she had said but a few words, and as the others argued her eyes filled with tears. Her thoughts drifted back to other angry voices: Mama, Daddy, Greg. The sound of anger was always the same—harsh, unrelenting, ugly. Anger never resolved itself it just led to more anger, and in time whatever love there had once been was gone.

When she finally spoke her voice quivered like jelly thickened with sorrow.

“Stop arguing. I didn’t come here for the house. I came here because I wanted to be with Grandma. Now that she’s gone there’s no reason for me to stay. Max can have—”

“No, he can’t!” Harriet jumped up so quickly her chair toppled backward. Seemingly sober as a judge, she turned to Caroline. “You know damn well what your grandma thought of Max. Why, she’d roll over in her grave if she thought you’d let him grab hold of what was intended for you!”

“But if it’s rightfully his—”

“It isn’t,” Wilbur said. “We don’t have an in-hand copy of Ida’s will yet, but I know it exists. I’m going to make sure Caroline is taken care of—those were her exact words. She loved you just as she loved this house, and she intended for you to live here.”

Laricka agreed, and Louie insisted Caroline had to stay because she was the only one who knew Ida’s cooking secrets.

“But until this issue of the will is straightened out,” Wilbur said, “someone has to manage the house. Collect the rents, pay bills, and—”

“See to meals,” Louie added.

~

It was after ten when the residents began to discuss a vote on who should be the interim house manager. With the right side of his mouth curled into an argumentative sneer, Max maintained that since Caroline did not pay rent she was not entitled to vote so she voluntarily stepped aside.

“No deal,” Louie said. “Caroline gets a vote. She does the cooking, and that’s worth more than the measly rent you pay.”

It was common knowledge Max paid less than the other residents. He’d bragged about it, claiming “family benefits.”

“I agree with Louie.” Laricka nodded. “And if Caroline needs help with the cooking, I can whip up one of my black cakes.”

Louie groaned. “Enough with the black cake. Nobody wants burnt cake.”

Laricka puckered her lips into a pout. “Black cake isn’t burnt.”

“He knows that,” Payne said, “but Louie thinks he’s funny.”

Before it became ugly, Wilbur called for a vote on whether Caroline was entitled to vote. Without her vote it was five to one, Max being the only dissenter. The others agreed preparing meals was adequate compensation for not paying rent.

After the issue of Caroline voting was settled, they moved to voting on the management of the house or, as Max described it, temporary custody.

He expected Wilbur to side with Caroline but thought Harriet would back him up. For three nights in a row he’d slipped into her room, poured any number of drinks, and stayed for far longer than was respectable. On those occasions Harriet giggled and flirted in a way that made him believe she’d not only stand with him but maybe even swear to whatever he said. The earlier outburst, he’d decided, was a reaction to too much bourbon. Plus, given the friction beteeen Louie and Payne, they’d most certainly be on opposite sides.