“Nothing. I’m fine. It’s been a hell of a day.”
“You look like you lost your best friend.”
“Worse. It’s much worse. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I’ve got time.”
“No, really. You’re in the middle of something. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Washing windows. I haven’t even started yet. What’s worse than losing a friend?”
“Someone left me half a million bucks. Give or take,” I added in the interest of being accurate.
“The bastard. That’s terrible!”
He expected me to laugh, but all I could do was moan. There have been occasions when his kindness has caused me to burst into tears. I couldn’t even manage that. He set the bucket and the newspaper on the walk and took me by the arm. He steered me toward the back patio, where he sat me down in an Adirondack chair. I propped my elbows on my knees and hung my head, wondering if I was going to throw up or faint.
He grabbed a lightweight aluminum lawn chair and swung it over close to mine. “What in the world is going on?”
I pressed my fingers against my eyes. “You won’t believe this. I don’t believe it.”
“I’m not sure I will either, but give it a try.”
“Remember the guy in the morgue with my name in his pocket?”
“Of course. The one who died on the beach.”
“Turns out we’re related—probably by way of my Grandmother Dace. He came here in hopes of finding a distant family member and it turns out I’m it. Not only that, but he was on the fritz with his kids so he left all his money to me, which means I’ll have to drive to Bakersfield and spring the news on them. Half a million bucks and I’d never even met the man.”
“Where’d he get the money? You said he was homeless.”
“Homeless, but not broke. Big difference. He spent twelve years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Once he was exonerated, he sued the state.”
“For half a million dollars?”
“For twelve million. The settlement was six hundred thousand dollars. After a few minor withdrawals, there’s five hundred and ninety-five thousand, three hundred and fifty dollars left.”
“No strings attached?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s all strings. He also named me executor of the estate so I now gotta jump through legal hoops. And what am I supposed to do about a funeral? The guy has to have a decent burial. What if his kids won’t step up to the plate? I’ll have to take care of that on top of everything else. I don’t get it. How did I end up babysitting a dead guy?”
He slapped his knees decisively and got up. “I have the solution. You come with me. This calls for a pan of brownies.”
And that’s when I burst into tears.
• • •
As soon as the brownies were cool enough, I ate half the pan and then stayed through supper. Henry plied me with comfort foods: homemade chicken noodle soup and homemade dinner rolls slathered with butter and strawberry jam. Weeping deadens your sense of taste and smell, so I had to suck it up and compose myself. For dessert—as a reward for cleaning my plate—I had two more brownies, which left him with two. Through the meal, we argued about the trip, which I was now thoroughly opposed to. It felt good to focus on a plan over which I had some control.
Henry thought my original instinct was correct. “Dace’s children are probably already feeling put upon and betrayed,” he said. “What good could possibly come of their learning about his death through a notice in the paper or a letter in the mail?”
“Better than hearing it from me,” I said. “How am I going to explain they’ve been disinherited? If I show up on Ethan’s doorstep with that news, he’ll think I’m there to gloat.”
“You’ll do fine. You’re articulate. Open a dialogue. Tell them how you got caught up in this. You know about the last few months of Terrence Dace’s life. His children should have the information.”
“I don’t know anything about the last few months of his life. I’m only going on what I’ve been told.”
“Matters not. You said Dace made a point about the executor of his will delivering the news.”
I was shaking my head in despair. “I can’t do it. Truly. They’re bound to react badly. It’s like begging to be abused. First they find out he died and then they find out he’s screwed ’em over in death the way he screwed ’em in life.”
“You don’t know that for a fact.”
“What, that he screwed ’em over in life? Look at it from their perspective. God knows what they went through during his arrest, trial, and sentencing. They must have been mortified. After that, Mom divorces him and he goes to prison, presumably for life. He put them through the wringer.”
“But he didn’t commit a crime. He was falsely accused. The legal system was at fault. The judge, the lawyers, and police made a terrible mistake. You’d think his kids would be thrilled to find out he was telling the truth.”
“Not so. From what Dandy tells me, the visit was a bust.”
“Do you think he told his kids how much money he had?”
“Beats me. Dandy and Pearl suspected he had money, but apparently he never revealed how much. I don’t want to be the one who drops that bomb on them. Once the kids find out I’m sole beneficiary, no telling what they’ll do.”
Henry shook his head. “You’re just trying to save your own skin.”
“Of course I am! Wouldn’t you do the same?”
“That’s neither here nor there. Tell them what happened. Lay the whole story out the same way you told me. It’s not your fault they severed the relationship. It’s not your fault he named you in his will.”
“You think they’ll take such a charitable view?”
“Well, no, not likely, but it’s better if you take the high road and handle this one-on-one.”
I put my head down on the table and groaned.
“Kinsey, the money isn’t theirs. It was never theirs. Their father had the right to do anything he wanted with it.”
“What if they feel entitled to it? They’re his natural heirs. Why wouldn’t they feel they had a right to it?”
“In that case, it becomes a legal issue and they’ll have to hire an attorney.”
I thought about it briefly. “I guess if they raise a huge stink, I could offer to divide the money among the three of them.”
“In no way! Absolutely not. If he’d wanted them to have the money, he’d have set it up that way. He named you executor because he trusted you to carry out his wishes, which are plainly stated.”
I reached out and grabbed his arm. “I just had a great idea! You can come with me. You’re good at things like this. You’re diplomatic and I’m not. I’ll make a botch of it. If you’re with me, I’ll have an ally.”
“Nope. No can do. I’ve got William to contend with. Someone has to get him to his physical therapy appointments.”
“He can take a cab. He’s already said he would.”
“You’re forgetting Ed. I can’t very well go off and leave the little guy. We’re in the bonding process. He’d feel betrayed.”
“You think a cat can feel betrayed?”
“Of course. Why would he not? He might not understand the concept as such, but he’d certainly be crushed if I abandoned him after finally winning his trust.”
“William could look after him, couldn’t he? He’s just as much a part of Ed’s life as you are.”
“He most certainly is not!”
“Well, nearly. I mean, Ed knows William. It’s not like you’d be leaving a stranger in charge.”
“Why don’t you look at it another way? There’s a big chunk of your history buried in Bakersfield. You’re actually related to these people. I’m not sure how, but that’s a question worth pursuing. Think of yourself as a diplomat. You’re a delegate from your branch of the family reaching out to theirs. I grant you the introductions might be awkward, but as long as you’re going, you can fill in some gaps in your family tree. Actually, Dace did you a good turn. This is a rare opportunity, a chance to integrate. Forget the emotional content and play it straight.”