The Mother-in-Law(63)

Tom speaks quickly and he sounds mildly irritated, but I know it’s just because he feels so off-kilter. He’s always the one in the family that smooths things over, makes problems go away. It would be killing him to be the one creating problems this time.

“Anyway, it is what it is, and I’ll make the best of it,” he says. And then, he doesn’t say anything.

Nettie’s and Ollie’s reactions surprise me in that they have precisely no reaction at all. No movement, no sharp intake of breath, just a rhythmic blink, a second or two out of sequence. Patrick brings a hand to his mouth, rests his chin on his thumb.

“Will you die?” Nettie asks, finally.

“I will die, yes. As will you, your brother, your mother, Lucy and Patrick . . . all of us will die. But I will likely be the first one to go. Probably in the next five years. Maybe even in the next year.”

Diana reaches for Tom’s hand.

“No one lives forever,” Tom says, “so I’d like to make the next year count. For me that means lots of time with family. My wife, my children and their spouses . . .” His gaze finds mine. “And my grandchildren, if you’ll allow it, Lucy. I am responsible for what happened to Harriet. If she hadn’t recovered, I’d never have forgiven myself.”

“Of course you can see the kids, Tom. As much as you’d like.”

“Dad, I . . .” Ollie sits forward. He appears to wrestle with something, but finally continues. “I know this is early days, but you’ll want to get your affairs in order. Your power of attorney, your medical instructions. You’ll want to look at succession planning for the business, and a sale to a partner if you want to go that way.”

Idly, I wonder how Ollie knows this. It rolls off the tongue, as though he were a wills and estates lawyer rather than a recruiter. Then, suddenly, he looks awkward.

“Also, you’ll want to make sure your will is up to date.”

“Oh, I think it is too early to start discussing that, hon,” I say.

“Everything is in order,” Tom says.

Ollie nods. “Can I ask what it states?”

“Ollie!” Diana and I exclaim together. I understand that bad news can bring about unusual emotions. But Ollie is being extraordinarily insensitive.

“There’s no secrets to be had here,” Tom says. “In the event of my death, everything goes to Diana. If Diana goes before me, everything goes to you kids and your partners, an even split.”

I glance at Ollie. He seems appeased.

“You never expect to have to discuss these things with your family,” Tom continues. “Deep down, we all think we’re going to live forever. This is, I’ll admit, a bit of a rude awakening.” Tom tries for a laugh, but his voice cracks.

“Oh, Dad.” He goes to Tom’s side and puts his arms around him. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

Tom leans into Ollie and his eyes close briefly. It’s a beautiful moment.

I only wish it had happened before they’d discussed the contents of the will.





39: LUCY


THE PRESENT

It’s strange, being back at Tom and Diana’s. Gerard gave us strict instructions that we were not permitted to remove anything other than sentimental items, but Nettie and Patrick were here yesterday and things have vanished since then. A vase that had been on display in the main room, for one thing. I can’t really say I blame them. With the financial hardship we are in, I could be tempted to pick up a vase or two myself. I’m relieved, though, that Ollie hasn’t suggested it. His behavior has been so strange lately—I’m glad to see he is still the man of integrity that I married.

In the library, I watch him open a photo album, flick a few pages, then put it down again without looking at it.

“We don’t have to do this all today, you know.”

“We have to do it sometime,” he says. “Might as well be now.”

I take him by the hand and walk him over to the couch and sit beside him. “Ollie. Talk to me.”

He closes his eyes, massaging his forehead with thumb and forefinger. “It’s just being here, in this house . . . it’s weird, right? I can’t believe she is gone.”

“I can’t either.”

He opens his eyes, stares right ahead. “I have no parents. That shouldn’t freak me out, in my mid-forties, but it does. On top of that, my sister doesn’t want anything to do with me.” He blinks several times, as if processing this. “You’re all I’ve got, Luce. You, and the kids.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” I tell him.

He looks at me. Nods slowly.

I try to picture what our life will be like now, our new life, now that we are financially ruined. I’ll have to get a job. The big kids will have to go to before-and after-school care and Edie will have to go to full-time day care. It will be different, that’s for sure. But we’re not going anywhere.

Ollie looks at me. “You look different lately. Your clothes aren’t so . . . wild.”

I look down at my black jeans, gray T-shirt and nude ballet flats. The shirt has a bedazzled picture of the Eiffel Tower on the front, but it’s a relatively plain outfit by my standards. I don’t even have any hair accessories or adornments in. The only jewelry I’m wearing, in fact, is the necklace Diana left to me.