Previously Loved Treasures (Serendipity #2)(36)
Max’s eyes brightened. “Do you have a copy of it?”
“Just a file copy. The will was probated and settled when Jim died.”
“By who?”
Muller began looking at Max with a suspicious eye. “What’s going on here? And what gives you the right to be snooping in Ida’s business?”
“I’m Jim’s brother, and I’ve got every right to look into what’s happened with my brother’s estate.”
“Afraid not,” Muller said. “Jim left everything to Ida. And now that she’s gone I guess you’ll have to talk to James if you want to know what happened to the estate.”
“He’s been gone for thirty years. Nobody knows where he is or even if he’s alive.”
“Did he have any children?”
Max curled his lip. “That’s the problem. This girl showed up claiming James was her daddy, but I’m thinking she’s a phony.”
Muller had dealt with enough no-goods to sense when a person had the stink of trouble on their skin. Max Sweetwater was ripe with it.
“That’s a pretty strong accusation. Unless you’ve got proof positive, I can’t help you.” He turned and walked away.
That didn’t stop Max; he trailed behind Muller. “If proof is what you want, proof is what you’ll get.”
Without bothering to answer, Jack stepped back into his office and closed the door.
As Max stormed out the door, the receptionist said, “Have a nice day.”
Laricka and Doctor Payne, who’d both witnessed to the conversation, agreed that Max had not proven there was no will any more than Wilbur had proven there was.
So things remained at a stalemate. And Max did not hand over a rent check even when the others did.
~
In the days that followed, Caroline was up early and had breakfast on the table by nine o’clock. Although the residents had become accustomed to eating at seven, no one complained. By week’s end Caroline had mastered scrambled eggs, little sausage links, and biscuits. When Doctor Payne suggested melon with cottage cheese might be a pleasant change, four pairs of eyes glared at him angrily and Max gave a self-satisfied nod.
Just learning as she was, it took Caroline twice as long to cook and three times as long to clean up the kitchen. Struggling to get the platters ready to serve, she ignored the thrown-about dishtowels and splatters of grease that dotted the stove. A week after she’d begun making breakfast, Caroline left the sausage simmering on the front burner of the stove and went to the pantry in search of salt. In less than a minute, the grease caught fire and spread across the spills and splatters. Seconds later it caught hold of the potholders she’d left lying there. Caroline was moving a large bag of flour aside when she heard Laricka scream, “Fire! Fire!”
Caroline rushed back, grabbed the pitcher of orange juice ready to go on the table, and poured it over the flames. By then Wilbur and Louie had arrived in the kitchen.
The fire sputtered, spit, and finally fizzled out, becoming a greasy, sticky goo that dripped down the front of the stove and onto the floor. Bits and pieces of the tattered potholders melted and were now cemented to the stove.
Caroline gave a mournful sigh. “I’m never going to get this right.”
Seeing the girl hunched with the weight of responsibility as she was prompted Wilbur to once again lie. “This is nothing. Why, one time your grandma set fire to a pan of bacon twice this size!”
“Grandma did?”
“Sure she did. It’s a thing that can happen to anybody.” Wilbur turned to Louie and Laricka. “Right?”
They both gave blank-faced nods, even though neither of them remembered Ida ever doing such a thing.
“The important thing is just to get this cleaned up,” Wilbur said. He pulled open the drawer of dishtowels and handed three to Laricka. “Wet these and let’s get started.”
Without being assigned tasks, Louie and Laricka began wiping and cleaning. Wilbur carried the skillet now full of orange juice to the sink.
It took almost twenty minutes to clean the kitchen, and in the process of doing so they dirtied seven kitchen towels. After she’d rinsed the towels and carried them to the laundry room, Caroline tossed the charred remains of the potholders in the garbage can.
By then it was nine-thirty and breakfast was still uncooked. Getting ready to start over, she reached into the drawer and pulled out four fresh towels and two new potholders. That’s when the envelope Ida had so carefully hidden fell to the floor.
“What’s this?” Laricka asked and handed Caroline the envelope.
It was a thick white envelope that had been mailed to Ida, but it now had Caroline’s name scrawled across the front in a handwriting they had all come to know. In the upper left hand corner was the return address for Susan D. Schleicher, Attorney.
Finders Keepers
Once the will was found, Max turned uglier than imaginable. He insisted the will was a forgery, and if perchance the signature was authentic Ida had apparently been coerced into giving a total stranger the house his brother built. He copied down the name and address of Susan D. Schleicher and warned he would take a trip to South Rockdale and check out this supposed lawyer.
By time the excitement died down it was nearly ten-thirty, and no one had eaten breakfast. Wilbur, feeing victorious and vindicated, offered to take everyone to the diner, his treat. Everyone nodded yes, except Max. He skulked off, saying he’d get to the bottom of this.