Chapter 15

“Helen?” I said when she answered her phone. I wasn’t waiting around—I’d dialed her number as soon as Sam and I had adjourned to the library after supper. “It’s Julia. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. And you?”

“Oh, except for having more to do than I can handle, I guess I’m all right. A little overwhelmed by the responsibility of executing Mattie’s will, but I guess you’ve heard all about that.”

“No, but if that’s the case, you’ve inherited a huge responsibility.”

With that, I knew I didn’t have to explain further, so I went right to the reason for my call. “Helen, it looks as if I’ll have to back out of the flower-arranging class. I hate to do it, but with all I have to do for Mattie, I just can’t fit it in right now. You see, besides burying her, I have to do something with her furniture, and I was wondering if you’d have time to help. Apparently it’s incumbent on me to get the highest price possible for it, but I don’t have a clue as to what it’s worth or who would want to buy it. But I know that you’re knowledgeable about the value of such things, and,” I went on hurriedly, “I’m not asking you to do it out of the goodness of your heart. I’ve been advised that Mattie’s estate will pay for any expert help I need to employ.”

There was silence on the line as Helen considered my offer, which didn’t surprise me. Helen had always been deliberate and judicious in what she committed herself to do. So while I awaited her response, I thought about what I’d just said because I had no intention of offering to pay LuAnne for handling the funeral. First of all, LuAnne would do it for the love of being in charge, and second of all, she’d probably pay me for letting her do it.

“Well,” Helen said, “I’m not an expert on much of anything. But furniture has always been an interest of mine, so I could probably weed out the reproductions. But, Julia, if Mattie has any really good pieces, you should call in an accredited appraiser.”

“Yes, Sam suggested that, too. Problem is, I don’t know any appraisers, accredited or not.”

“I can put you in touch with the one who did a good job for me. Diane Somebody—an unusual last name I can’t remember. I have it in my address book.”

“That would be a great help. But, Helen, you won’t believe the amount of stuff in that apartment. I could really use you if you have time to help me with it.”

“Well, I have an office job every morning, but I’ll be happy to help in the afternoons.” Then, in a voice tight with the strain of shame and need, she went on. “And thank you for the opportunity. A small percentage of any proceeds would be appreciated, if that’s all right with you.”

Indeed, it was, so after making plans to meet at Mattie’s apartment the following afternoon, I hung up and turned to Sam with a relieved smile.

“I’m on a roll, Sam. One more call and that’ll be it for my first day as an executive.”

_______

“LuAnne?” I said when she answered her phone. “Sorry to call so late, but it’s my understanding that Mattie would like you to oversee her funeral. So I thought I should let you know the plans she made and make sure that you have the time to take it on.”

Another silence on the line. Then she said, “Mattie wanted me to do her funeral?”

“That’s what I was advised. I had a conversation with her attorney, Mr. Ernest Sitton, and he said you were mentioned as she made out her will.” That wasn’t too far from the truth, although I hoped that LuAnne wouldn’t push me for any details. If she learned that she was named successor executor—which gave her absolutely no authority unless I was out of the picture—of the entire will, she would question every move I made. My plan was to turn the funeral over to her, thereby taking it off my hands and, also thereby, keeping her too busy to interfere with anything else.

“Well, I am honored,” LuAnne said. “And vindicated for putting up with her all these years. Julia, I tell you, that woman would drive a normal person crazy. Nothing ever pleased her, but, then, I guess we shouldn’t speak ill of the deceased. And she did have her good points, although I can’t think of any right now.”

I almost laughed, but LuAnne was so deadly serious that I restrained myself. “Then I can leave the funeral in your hands?”

“Of course!” she said, as if it had been a foregone conclusion. “If Mattie wanted me to do it, I most certainly will and, believe me, she’s going to be pleased this time. Abbotsville will see how a funeral should be conducted.”

“Now, wait, LuAnne, let’s not get carried away. Mattie has already planned her funeral and paid for it and everything. All you have to do is see that the funeral home follows through.”

“Well, you just wait a minute, Julia. Are you talking bare bones here?”

“I really don’t know. I’ve not seen her plans, but I can’t imagine they’ll be elaborate. LuAnne, she was not a wealthy woman—not then and not now. You have to stick to what she selected and not add any additional expense.”

Another long silence on the line. “Well, Julia,” she finally said, “you do realize that Mattie Freeman was a longtime member of the garden club, don’t you? And the book club and the Lila Mae Harding Sunday school class and DAR and, as old as she was, maybe even a founding member of the First Presbyterian Church. And she could be so sweet, just a good person. She deserves something more than a bare bones funeral, to my way of thinking.”

I knew right then that I would have to put my foot down or LuAnne would present Mattie’s estate with a bill that would cut her bank accounts to the bone. “All right, LuAnne, if you think that what she’s already paid for isn’t enough for a fitting funeral, then you can add whatever you want to pay for. But, as executor of her will, I am not beholden to honor any further expense.”

“You’re the executor?” LuAnne’s expression of surprise didn’t help my feelings of competence. “I thought you just had power of attorney. How did that happen?”

“I don’t know, LuAnne, and since Mattie’s dead and gone, I can’t ask her. Now, why don’t you go to the Good Shepherd Funeral Home and see exactly what she chose? It may be that it will prove perfectly satisfactory, and there’ll be no question of any added expense.”

“All right, I’ll do that, but I still don’t understand why she chose you.”

“Believe me, I don’t, either. We can ask her when we all get to heaven.”

“Well, be that as it may, I want you to know that I am not going to be held responsible if her funeral ends up being about half tacky. I’ll just let everybody know that my hands were tied because you wouldn’t let me give Mattie the send-off she deserves.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Don’t worry, LuAnne, I know I’m the one who’s responsible. I doubt it’ll be the only thing I’ll be blamed for.”

_______

Settling back on the sofa, I picked up the stack of papers that Mr. Sitton had saddled me with and began to study Mattie’s will.

“Oh, my word, Sam, what in the world was Mattie thinking? You should see this.” I held up the pad on which I’d just listed the names of all the people and entities that Mattie had wanted to benefit from her estate. I rubbed my forehead in despair at the impossible feat of having to turn almost nothing into enough to go around.

“What is it, honey?”

“This!” I said, waving the pad. “I’m doing what you told me to do—making a list of the beneficiaries and adding up all the bequests. Mattie runs out of money less than halfway through the list.” I stood up and walked across the room, so agitated that I couldn’t sit still. “Why did she do this? She must’ve known how much she had. She had to’ve known that her estate wouldn’t cover what she was so blithely handing out. Don’t you think? I mean, what was she thinking?”

“Well,” Sam said, “didn’t you say that she was showing signs of dementia in the hospital? Maybe she was suffering from it long before anyone was aware of it.”

“She was suffering from something, if this is any indication.” I grabbed the pad and waved it around again. “But, Sam, we were told it was the aftereffects of the anesthesia because, other than that debutante episode, none of us had noticed any changes in her behavior.” I stopped and considered a few scenes with Mattie over the past year or so. “I never saw any signs of her going off the rails before that. Maybe she was a little more tetchy, a little less tolerant, in recent years, but we were used to her ill humor. And of course, we may not’ve noticed, because—I hate to admit this—but maybe we didn’t notice because we just generally ignored her.”

“Well, there’s another possibility,” Sam said, “which I hesitate to suggest, but have you given any thought as to why she named you her executor?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess she trusted me to do it right. After all, she’d seen me follow through on everything I’ve ever put my hand to in all the clubs and groups we’d both been a part of.”

“I’m sure that entered into her thinking,” Sam said. Then he cocked an eyebrow and went on. “But could she have assumed that you would see that her bequests were honored whether she had the funds or not? Maybe she wanted to be generous—show her appreciation to her friends—and hoped that you’d fill in the blanks.”

“You mean she hoped I’d make up the difference between what she had and what she wanted to give away? So she’d appear generous and appreciative? And get all the credit?” I sprang to my feet again. “I’ve never heard of such presumption! No, Sam, no way in the world am I going to fill her bank accounts so everybody’ll think well of her.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Sam agreed. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, because it’s more likely that she wasn’t thinking clearly. Didn’t you say she was trying to win some kind of contest?”

“Many kinds of contests,” I corrected through a tight mouth.

“Well, there you are. She may have been counting on a windfall and wanted to share it with her beneficiaries.”

“Oh,” I said as my anger dissipated, “I think you’re right. That does explain it, but, bless her heart, she was certainly counting her chickens before they hatched.”

Then, tired of balancing Mattie’s wishes with the balances in her accounts, I said, “I can’t worry with this anymore. Let’s go to bed.”