Charlie Weidman came back to the house after Parker’s funeral service to deliver the bad news in person.
They’d sat in Parker’s den while Charlie gave her the news she already knew.
“I’m gonna just lay it on the line here,” Charlie said, his kind face serious. “Things are bad, Mary Bliss. Real bad. I don’t know what was going through Parker’s head, but he seems to have gotten into some big-time debt. I suppose you know about a lot of the bills that are past due.”
She nodded.
“There’s just nothin’ left,” he said, shaking his head again and again in disbelief. “The mutual funds, Erin’s college fund, all cashed in within the past year. He cashed in his life insurance, so we can’t make a claim on that. And we can’t borrow against the house either, because he pulled a fancy deal pulling all your equity out of the house and signing a gigantic balloon note that’s coming due by the end of the summer.”
“He refinanced the house? Without me knowing about it?” Mary Bliss felt indignant all over again.
Charlie ran his fingers through his graying hair. “He had a power of attorney from you.”
“I never signed any power of attorney,” Mary Bliss said.
“And I never notarized it,” Charlie said. He was starting to look angry. “I hate to speak ill of the dead. Lord knows, Parker was one of my closest friends. But I think he’s given you a raw deal. By my estimates, he liquidated your assets and pulled a cool million out before dying.”
Mary Bliss blinked back the tears. She had promised herself she was done with crying. But a million dollars? What could he have done with all that money? And why? What had they ever done to make him hate them this much?
“What’s going to happen?” Mary Bliss asked. She was opening and closing the drawers of Parker’s desk. His pens and paper clips and yellow Post-its were neatly laid out in the top drawer. She slammed it hard. “Will we lose the house?”
Charlie handed her a manila envelope. “This is all that’s left, as far as I can see. A life insurance policy from a company I never heard of in Alabama. It was with those papers you gave me. Do you know anything about it?”
Mary Bliss opened the envelope. “My aunt bought us this policy as a wedding gift. She was a spinster lady, and she sold insurance for a living. I’d completely forgotten about this. Do you think it’s any good?”
“It’s good,” Charlie said. “I called the company this morning, before the memorial service. They’re sending the paperwork overnight, and I’ll get started on it right away.”
Mary Bliss turned the pages of the policy. “It’s not very much money.”
“True,” Charlie said. “But it might be enough to tide you over. And there’s also the title insurance on the house.”
“What good will it do?” Mary Bliss asked. She felt bad for deceiving Charlie, who was being so kind to her, but she’d already made an uneasy peace with her conscience, telling herself the ends justified the means.
“The title insurance pays off the mortgage in the case of death,” Charlie said.
“I can keep the house.” Mary Bliss smiled and sank back into Parker’s desk chair.
“Looks like it to me,” Charlie said. “As for the balloon note, I’m gonna have to take a good long look at that. And the liens, too. You’re not in the clear, not by a long way. But I’m gonna have a talk with the loan officer who dealt with Parker, see if I can figure out how he pulled this thing off.”
“I never signed a power of attorney, Charlie,” Mary Bliss said, staring right at him. “And I had no idea he was refinancing the house.”
“Damn,” Charlie said. “Damn. What was he thinking? This just isn’t like Parker. Isn’t like him at all. Did he say anything recently, give you any hint about why he would liquidate everything?”
“Nothing,” Mary Bliss said. For the first time, she was telling the complete truth. It felt good. “He never said a thing.”
“A million bucks,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “Wonder where it went? Why he needed the money?”
“I just don’t know,” Mary Bliss said. She folded her hands on top of the desk. “What about you, Charlie. He was your best friend. Did he say anything to you?”
“I’ve gone over it and over it,” Charlie said. “I’ve wracked my brain. We played golf a couple weeks ago. He seemed fine. Shot in the eighties. Best he’s ever played. We had a couple drinks in the clubhouse, and went on our way.”
Mary Bliss found a paper clip stuck in the corner of the desk blotter. She pulled it apart and started straightening out the bends. “What about women? Do you think he was seeing somebody else? A girlfriend, maybe?”
Charlie had the grace to blush. “I swear to God, Mary Bliss. He never said anything about another woman. He was crazy about you. Everybody knows that.”
“You were crazy about Katharine once,” Mary Bliss said calmly. “But that seems to have changed.”
Charlie stood up. “That’s different. Katharine and I are not you and Parker.”
“Could have fooled me,” Mary Bliss said.
“She’s a fine woman,” Charlie said. “And I intend to do right by her.”
“With money,” Mary Bliss said.
“She and Chip will never want for anything. She knows that.”
Charlie stood up and reached for his briefcase. “It’s getting late.”
She walked him to the front door and hugged him around the neck. “I’m sorry for making that crack about you and Katharine. It’s none of my business. You’re a good man, Charlie. And I know you’ll do the right thing.”
His shoulders slumped a little. “Sure I will.”
After he’d gone, Mary Bliss roamed the house, looking for things to put right. By the time she’d worked off her energy cleaning and straightening, it was nearly midnight. And still no sign of Erin, who’d disappeared immediately after the church service.
Mary Bliss looked over at the Bowdens’ house. The front porch light was still on. Maybe she was with Josh. The thought made her feel better. Josh seemed to be a steadying influence on her.
She went out on her own front porch and sat in the rocker, tucking her feet up under her. By shifting her weight slightly, she was able to set the chair in motion. The air had cooled a little, but it was undeniably June. Her gardenias were in bloom. Their white star-shape seemed to gleam in the darkness, and their perfume wrapped around her. Her mother had always planted a gardenia bush near the front door. The smell was better than any welcome mat, Nina always said.
Mary Bliss put her head back. Her eyes were dry and seemed to burn with a lack of sleep. She yawned widely. Maybe she would sleep tonight. The worst was over. She’d survived. Survived the trip to Mexico, the boat accident. Telling Erin her daddy was dead. She’d survived Eula and she’d survived the memorial service.
The worst is behind you, she whispered, rocking softly to and fro. It’s all behind you.