Over Her Dead Body(36)

“This is a sad day for all of us.” Wasn’t it just like Uncle Roy to say something so obvious it made it impossible to offer an intelligent reply?

“Mmmmm,” I said, because what else was there to say?

“Shall we get started?” Neutral Third Party said, from the head of the conference table. I imagined he was on a flat fee, given that Mom was not available to pay overtime, so had every incentive to get down to business.

I waited for Uncle Roy to sit, then snagged the seat on the opposite end of the oblong, football-shaped table. My brother raised an eyebrow at me and I just shrugged. Nathan sat down in the seat across from his father, between me and Neutral Third Party, forcing my brother to take the seat next to Uncle Roy.

“Sorry,” I mouthed, and he just shook his head.

“So?” I whispered to Nathan, “Is she going to stick it to us?” I knew my mother complained about us to him. I thought maybe he might know something, and I wanted to be emotionally prepared.

“No idea,” he replied. “She did her will without my input.” That was the second time he’d said that. He knows something.

“Any idea how long we’ll be sitting here?” I pressed, suddenly worried the lowball of tequila I’d shot would not be sufficient to protect me from the pain on the other side of that dreaded piece of paper.

“None whatsoever,” he said glumly.

“Thank you all for being so punctual,” our master of ceremonies said. “I think we can begin.” His eyes floated toward the door, where a birdlike woman in a tweed suit was standing. She must have just walked in—I hadn’t seen her earlier. She looked to be a little older than me—late twenties maybe?—and wore an expression of sheer terror.

“There’s plenty of room here at the table,” the lawyer said to the woman. “Here. Come take my seat.” He popped up and swiveled the chair toward her, willing her to come and sit in it. I figured she was some sort of paralegal or associate, since she wasn’t a relative and I didn’t know my mother to have any cute, young friends.

“Thank you,” she said. She smiled at me as she passed, and I returned the kindness.

“Who do you suppose that is?” I whispered to Nathan, but he didn’t answer.

“Hi, Nathan,” the woman said as she sat down beside him. And I was immediately intrigued.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, just loud enough for me to hear.

And her answer was even more intriguing: “I have no idea.”





CHAPTER 28




* * *



CHARLIE


My mother sold her business for $4 million. I know that because she tried to give the agency to me when she realized she was too sick to continue running it.

“Are you really in a position to turn down four million dollars?” she’d asked, in a tone that made me feel like a big fat loser. I wasn’t, but I had a jealous new wife, and I didn’t want the trouble that came from being around hot actresses all day. Plus I didn’t know anything about casting or running a business and had dreams of my own that had nothing to do with either of those things. So yeah, it was—as they say in the movie business—a hard pass.

In addition to the $4 million Mom got from selling the business, she got another $3 million when Dad died. I don’t know why my father had such a big life insurance policy when my mom was the breadwinner, but he did. And she got it. So that’s $7 million in her coffers.

And then there was the house. I knew its Hansel and Gretel vibe wasn’t for everyone, but the land alone was worth at least $2 million. She had antiques and jewelry and closets full of designer shoes, clothes, and furs. She had a vintage Jaguar, a sizable stock portfolio, and an IRA. All in all, I guessed her total net worth was somewhere between $10 and $12 million—depending on the salability of that kooky old house.

Worst-case scenario, I figured I would walk out of that will reading with $3–$4 million, or a third of her estate. I would have said half, but besides Winnie, there was my mom’s brother, Uncle Roy, and his gaggle of kids. If she included Nathan, which she likely would, she would have to include all of them. So I prepared myself to have to share my share.

“Good morning, everyone,” my mother’s lawyer said. “I’m Simon Redding.” He went around the table and made eye contact with all of us one at a time, including the chick in the tweed suit, who I assumed worked for him.

“I am sorry to be meeting you all under such tragic circumstances,” he continued. “Before we begin, I just wanted to offer my condolences for your loss. May Louisa’s memory be a blessing.”

We all bowed our heads. I heard Aunt Rita sniffle. No one else made a peep.

“If you are in this room, you are named in the will. Before I share Louisa’s last wishes with you, I want to state for the record that I have verified that this document is authentic, and that the directives herein are legally binding.”

We all nodded. Got it. Now get on with it.

“I have been instructed by the deceased to start by reading the following preamble,” Lawyer Simon said.

He cleared his throat. “What you are about to read is going to be a bit of a shock, so let me prepare you,” he read. She wouldn’t be my mother if she didn’t have a few surprises up her sleeve. She was also prone to hyperbole, so I wasn’t too worried about being “shocked,” at least not yet.