I wanted to initiate a conversation, but I wasn’t sure where to start. There’s something intimate about having someone tend to your body parts; haircuts, massages, bikini waxes, the latter no more than a rumor as far as I was concerned. When you’re in the hands of an expert, you give yourself up to the process. Since she seemed fully focused on my hands, I was free to study her.
She was blessed with a sulky prettiness—dark brows, long dark hair that she wore pulled up in a top-knot, caught in the jaws of a big plastic clip. A few loose strands framed her face. Her skin was flawless. She had a row of tiny gold rings in a line along one ear. The holes were pierced so closely together, it looked as if she’d taken a length of spiral binding and threaded it through her ear. She wore jeans and a cotton T-shirt with a deep V in front. Boobs.
When she finally spoke, she addressed her remarks to my fingertips. “I know who you are, so you don’t have to pussyfoot around.”
“I take it your brother called.”
“Are you kidding? The minute you were out the door. He was like totally pissed off, which I shouldn’t have to tell you.”
She removed my left hand from the soapy water and placed it on the towel in front of her, patting it dry like a lettuce leaf. She moved the basin over and set my right hand to soak while she squirted a milky solution across the cuticles of my left.
I said, “I’m sorry I upset him. That wasn’t my intent. I wish I’d done a better job of it.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s a drama queen. How’d you find out where I worked?”
“His landlord.”
“Big Rat. High school, he was a class ahead of Ethan’s. I once dated the guy if you can believe that.”
“Somehow I can’t picture it.”
“That makes two of us. I was sixteen and thought he was a man about town.” She lapsed into silence, intent on her work.
“I guess you know about your dad’s will,” I ventured.
“We all know. Big powwow an hour ago. I thought the phone lines would catch fire.”
“Does your mother know?”
“She knows everything. Why do you ask?”
“I was wondering how she felt about your father’s death.”
“She said ‘Good riddance,’ if that’s a clue. Mamie’s the one you better watch. Even Mom has a hard time with her. Talk about butting heads. Those two go at it.” She took out a little pair of scissors and nipped at my cuticles, dead skin piling up in the tiny space between blades. “Mamie’s Ethan’s wife, in case you haven’t heard.”
“I didn’t meet her, but I know her name. She was off at work.”
“The woman’s a powerhouse.”
“How so?”
“She’s a code-enforcement officer for the city. Property maintenance, zoning violations, abandoned vehicles, you name it. File a complaint and she kicks ass until the problem goes away. Too bad she wasn’t around when Dad was doing his ‘thang.’ She’d have whipped him into shape.”
“I take it your mother wasn’t good at that.”
“Mamie’s the kind who gets up in your face. Mom wheedles and manipulates. She specializes in guilt trips.” She was silent for a moment and then looked up. It was the first time she met my eyes and I was startled at the bright blue of her gaze. “So now you’ve talked to Ethan, why come to me?”
“I left the paperwork with him, but I couldn’t be sure he’d pass it along to you and Ellen. Look, I understand this is difficult . . .”
“No, it’s not. You know how much Daddy cared? He drank himself to death. That’s what he thought about us. We were last in line. He put my mother through hell. Not that she doesn’t deserve half the blame.”
She took a buffer from the drawer and began to shine my nails, intent on her task.
“If you want a say in your father’s funeral arrangements, this is your chance. You have any requests?”
Smiling slightly, she said, “Make sure he’s thoroughly dead before you bury him. We don’t want him coming back unannounced. As much as he drank, he probably pickled himself, which should save on embalming fees.”
I was at a loss about where to take the conversation next, so I said nothing. I watched her work. The silence didn’t seem to bother her.
Once she finished buffing, she opened a big jar of cream and rubbed a glob between her hands. She took my hand and began to massage my fingers and my palm, moving up my forearm. “Ethan says you never met Daddy. He says you never even laid eyes on him ’til he was dead.”
“That’s true. I had no idea we were related.”
“And you got all the money. Lucky you.”
“I had no say in that.”
“I’m sure not. My old man was a shit.”
“He wasn’t all bad. His friends speak well of him. They were impressed with his smarts. Wasn’t he working on a degree in landscape design?”
“Eons ago when we were little kids. He was good about taking us on hikes and teaching us nature stuff. That always frosted Mom’s ass.” She looked toward the salon door, checking the client who had just walked in. As though I’d pressed, she went on. “We worshiped the ground he walked on. She’s the family saint and didn’t like the competition.”
“He put together a folio for each of you that he illustrated himself.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but I got a client just came in and she doesn’t like to wait. She’s a regular and she tips well. Job you do, I bet you don’t have to worry about things like that.”
“Am I supposed to pay here or at the desk?”
“Pay her,” she said, glancing at the receptionist.
Since she’d just mentioned a tip, I thought I’d better be generous. I took a ten out of my wallet and slipped it under the towel. That seemed to soften her attitude.
“If you want, Ellen and I can meet you later for a drink,” she said as I got up.
I made a face meant to convey regret. “I wish I could, but I’m due home and I’ve checked out of my motel.”
“You can’t find another room?”
“I could, but I have to get back.”
She seemed aghast, which I’m sure was an act. “So this is it? You pass on the papers and refuse to explain? Ethan’s saying things like ‘probate.’ I don’t even know what that is.”
“This is news to me as well. I’m learning as I go. You should have an attorney explain how the system works. That way, if you need legal advice—”
“So now we have to pay a lawyer? Are you nuts? You waltz in here telling us we’re disinherited and now we’re supposed to hire a legal expert? Where’s the money coming from?”
“I’m just suggesting you get an opinion from someone who’s not already in the thick of things the way I am. Call Legal Aid and see if they can help. I don’t think you should look to me for guidance when it may not be what’s best for you. Why don’t you talk to Ellen and see what she says?”
“Why is that my job? You’re the one who knows everything, so you explain.”
I closed my eyes, working to detach myself from the urge to fall on her forearm and bite all the way down to the bone. “Fine. If you’ll give me a phone number, I’ll be happy to talk to her.”
“You won’t talk to her to her face? What kind of shit is that?”
“I don’t know where she is.”
She stared at me for a moment and then gave a half shrug. “We could meet you at the Brandywine. By eight, her kids will be down for the night and Hank can babysit.”
I didn’t think this was the time to correct her notion that a father has to “babysit” his children when half the responsibility is his by definition.
“Where’s the Brandywine?”