by Lynn Emery
“Yep, it’s the real thing, Jack said it’s a John Biggers painting circa 1959. Famous Black artist I understand. That’s a Caribbean market scene or something. Worth a bucket of cash. Jack bought it as an investment.”
“No, it’s the Ghana Harvest Festival. I thought there was only one.” Willa dropped her purse on a side table and went to look at the painting closer.
“Really? Then that means it’s worth even more than I thought? Hallelujah and thank you Mr. Biggers.”
“Biggers pioneered a new painting style rooted in the Mexican mural movement. He— ”
“Wait, let me write this stuff down.” MiMi darted off. She continued talking from another room. “I’ve got a note pad somewhere. Ah, here we go. Now you said something about Mexican morals?”
“Lord have mercy,” Willa muttered. She snatched her purse from the table and spun to face MiMi. “The Mexican Mural Movement. You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
MiMi started to speak then stopped. She scribbled notes. “Murals, famous black artist. Got it. I’ll do an Internet search and become an authority.”
“Lord have mercy,” Willa repeated and shook her head.
“Okay, look. Art isn’t my thing. Jack bought it—”
“As an investment. By the way you shouldn’t have it here. The sunlight will affect the paint. Too bright in this foyer.” Willa felt the creep of envy up her spine. She’d long coveted having even a few pieces of fine art by leading black artists.
“Thanks, girl. I’ll move it today. What about in here. The living room doesn’t get all that much light.” MiMi chattered on as she led the way into a large, beautifully decorated room. A baby grand piano sat in one corner.
“You play?” Willa said, interrupting the flow on some subject she didn’t care about in the least.
“Oh yeah. My mother made me take lessons. I actually started to like it after a while. To get back at her I started playing low down dirty blues songs instead of Chopin.” MiMi giggled. “What about this wall?”
“That should do. If it’s too dark at night you can buy a small light to mount on the wall beneath it. You know like they have in art museums.” Willa winced at the color scheme, lime sherbet green and pink clashed in her view. Obviously MiMi didn’t agree.
“Right, right. Let me put that down,” MiMi mumbled to herself as she scribbled again. “Come on to the kitchen. I’ll fix us a couple of diet sodas. Got some low fat popcorn I just made.”
“Hmm.” Willa took in her surroundings as she walked.
MiMi also liked paisley. The draperies in the living room had a subtle pattern that repeated several chairs. She wondered where MiMi had managed to find a sofa in that funky shade of lime green. The hallway leading to the kitchen was lined with more prints, mostly landscapes. A staircase curved up. Double doors indicated a closet underneath it. The polished dark wood of the stair handrail gleamed. Willa could imagine decorating it with a long garland for Christmas. Mikayla would sneak downstairs in her cute nightgown trying to catch Santa by surprise. Okay, that fantasy would never be. Mikayla now considered herself a big girl who didn’t believe in kiddie stories. But still. The acute green attack of envy intensified. The beautiful kitchen made it worse.
“Damn,” Willa blurted out as she looked at the honey oak cabinets. The refrigerator and dishwasher both had oak doors.
“Thanks, girl. Jack and I...” MiMi’s voice died away. “Look, I’m sorry about the way Jack treated you. I mean men can be such dogs.”
Willa rolled her eyes. “Oh don’t even try to have a “girlfriend, can we talk” session with me. I know you.”
“No really. I’m for real. And Jack really cared what you thought.” MiMi waved her hands when Willa sputtered. “I’m serious. I heard him telling his brother and father off when they criticized you. He never talked about me with that kind of, you know, respect I guess is the word.”
“Right. Respect that didn’t include our marriage vows or my feelings when he was screwing half the city.” Willa sat down on a bar stool along one end of a breakfast counter.
“He respected you as a strong woman and a great mother.” MiMi cast a glance at the kitchen. “Sometimes I think I was just window dressing.”
“Window dressing,” Willa echoed.
MiMi picked up two glasses. She filled them with ice from the refrigerator ice dispenser then poured cola from a large bottle into both. She nodded as she put a glass in front of Willa along with a napkin. Willa almost laughed. MiMi juggled being the perfect hostess while faking a reflective moment.
“Sure. The right look.” MiMi smoothed a hand over her curvy body. “From the right family. He put me up in the right neighborhood, in the right car.”
“Hold on. Don’t tell me you’re driving a BMW silver sports coup. I’ll toss my lunch if you do.” Willa sat still with her glass halfway to her mouth.
“Sorry,” MiMi whispered.
“Damn you, Jack Crown. That’s my dream car. And frankly this is my dream house. Well, minus that pukey color scheme.” Willa grimaced.
“Hey, those are my sorority colors. Alpha Kappa Alpha proud.” MiMi sniffed her indignation.
“Delta Sigma Theta all the way.” Willa smirked. “And those colors suck.”
“Girl, when did you pledge? You should have come over to the right side,” MiMi teased and slapped Willa on the arm.
“I was a freshman. My aunt’s friend sponsored me.” Willa stopped and mentally shook herself back to reality. “I’m here on serious business, not to be your buddy.”
“Hey, since we’re going to work together we should get to know each other.” MiMi shrugged.
“Let me say this one last time. We’re not on a team, you and me. Got it?” Willa put the glass down. She didn’t want to get chummy with Jack’s mistress. “About the safe deposit box.”
“Okay, okay. Back to business. But like it or not we are a team, even if temporarily,” MiMi added quickly when Willa hissed a sigh. “Now where do we start?”
“With the banks here in Baton Rouge of course,” Willa retorted.
MiMi took a turn hissing in frustration. “Willa, I’m not that stupid. I already tried Jack’s bank and all the major ones.”
“If he gave you that key then he must have put your name on it, too.”
“No. I would have had to fill out the signature card. You have to sign each time you open it,” MiMi said with a smirk. “See? You don’t know everything, Miss Just About Perfect.”
“Did Jack ever have you sign a bunch of papers?” Willa ignored her dig.
“Sure, for the house and a bunch of other stuff to set me up with a couple of certificates of deposit.” MiMi scowled. “I don’t want to pay penalties by cashing them in early to pay my house notes.”
“Get a job,” Willa said. “We need to check all the branches of any bank Jack used.”
“That could take me forever. Can’t you and that sexy guy that works for you get your staff to get on it? I mean that’s what you pay them for, to investigate.” MiMi flipped one of her elegantly manicured hands.
“Our employees are paid to provide security to our customers. If they didn’t we wouldn’t have any business. I can’t just pull them off jobs.” Willa shook her head at the depth of MiMi’s clueless state.
“You’ve got a point. Well, we can see why Jack left you in charge of the company.” MiMi patted Willa on the arm. “Okay so what should we do?”
Willa looked at MiMi for a few seconds then gave a short laugh. “This is unreal.”
“You know, under different circumstances we could be pals,” MiMi said and sipped more cola. She reached for a large bowl. “Popcorn?”
“No. We could not be friends. And no thanks, I don’t want any popcorn.”
“Hmm.” MiMi munched for a few seconds, sipped then patted her lips with a napkin. “Maybe not. You’re a little judgmental.”
That did it. Willa slid from the bar stool and found the note pad. “Here. Write down ba
nks you know Jack visited. As executor of his estate the banks will at least tell me if he had accounts or a safe deposit box.”
“That’s smart. Let’s see.” MiMi wrote down three banks and a credit union.
“Of course if you don’t fight the succession I could be granted even more authority. That might help me find this account faster. If it exists. You would get the money back faster, too.”
“If I don’t raise objections,” MiMi said. One exquisitely shaped eyebrow went up.
“We both get what we want.” Willa nodded.
“Hmm, best not to rush things. We’re still pretty emotional after our terrible loss. Let’s just look for the safe deposit account and deal with that later.” MiMi smiled at her.
Willa pursed her lips. She could say a few choice things about MiMi. But dumb wouldn’t be one of them. Not that Willa’s move was all that subtle.
“Fine. I’ll let you know what I find out. I won’t open the box if I find it without telling you first.” Willa picked up her purse.”
“I trust you. Besides, if my name is on the account the bank won’t let you anyway.” MiMi smiled at her. “It was so nice of you to stop by.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” Willa endured a trip past the bad color scheme living room on her way out. “I’ll call you.”
“Please do. Bye-bye.” MiMi waved cheerfully as though they’d had girly-girl tea party.
“Give me strength,” Willa said as she strode down the driveway to her SUV.
***
Two days later Willa and Cedric had come up empty on every turn. No bank they visited had a safe deposit account in Jack’s name. Armed with Jack’s will, bank managers had been cooperative. For all the good it had done Willa. After another frustrating day of searching Willa was glad to be home. Almost.
She sat on the floor in her den in the middle of Jack’s papers. She’d gone into his condo using MiMi’s keys. Jack’s mother had insisted she didn’t have a set. This in spite of clear instructions added to his will saying he’d left duplicate keys with his parents. As usual after any encounter with the elder Crowns, Willa had a headache. She took turns massaging the tense spot at the back of her neck, sipping wine and plowing through the details of Jack’s life. With the bits and pieces, his daily routine came together. Unfortunately Willa hadn’t found the one part of the puzzle she wanted. A rustling sound near the door made Willa look up from a stack of credit card statements. Mikayla stood in the door holding one of her workbooks.
“Hi, baby girl.” Willa blew her a kiss.
“Hey, Mama. I’m not coming in ‘cause I don’t want to mess up your homework. But what does the word ‘sen-si-tive’ mean?” Mikayla lifted a knee and balanced the workbook on it. She held a pencil in one fist ready to write.
“It means something has to handled carefully because it’s easily hurt or maybe even has already been hurt.” Willa shuffled more of her homework as Mikayla called it.
“Like Cassidy,” Mikayla replied nodding her head.
“Who?” Willa glanced up at Mikayla with a frown.
“This girl at school. She wears a thing on one of her legs to help her walk.” Mikayla sat down on the floor
“A leg brace.”
“Yes, that’s what the teachers call it. Kids make fun of her because she walks funny. If you just look at her sometimes she cries.” Mikayla shrugged.
“Because the kids have hurt her feelings so she’s sensitive. I hope you haven’t joined in making her feel bad.” Willa looked up at Mikayla.
“No. Well, I might have laughed once when Brandon Goff hopped around like he was Cassidy,” Mikayla confessed finally when Willa continued to stare at her. “But I never did anything like Brandon.”
“If you laughed then you most certainly have made fun of her. You don’t have to say a word to hurt someone’s feelings.”
“But I’ve never said anything mean to her, and Brandon was jumping around looking silly,” Mikayla replied defensively.
“You encouraged other kids to make fun of her, Mikayla. Y’all encouraged him by laughing. Honey, just remember how upset you were when kids teased you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I won’t do it again.” Mikayla turned her attention to her workbook for several minutes. Then she looked up. “Mama?”
“Yes, baby.” Willa suppressed the urge to curse when she saw how much money Jack had spent at Victoria’s Secret.
“Anthony is sensitive about Daddy, isn’t he? I mean sometimes he cries when he doesn’t think anybody is around. I cry, too, but I don’t care who sees me. Boys are different.”
Willa’s irritation at her dead ex-husband dissolved. The image of Anthony crying alone in his room tore at her. “Yes, baby girl. Big boys especially don’t like people to see them cry.”
“But I try to make him feel better. I told him some jokes I learned at school.” Mikayla wrote more in her book as she talked.
Willa swiped away a couple of tears and cleared her throat. “That was really sweet of you, Mikayla. Did he laugh?”
“Nope. He just said they were dumb baby jokes then he tickled me until I laughed. Boys are wonky.” Mikayla grinned. That was her word for the mysterious or messed up.
“Oh my little darlin’. Just wait until you grow up. You’ll find out just how wonky the male species can be.” Willa sighed as she looked at a receipt for sex toys. Best to make sure that doesn’t fall into curious kid hands. She stuffed it into a metal file box with a lock on it. The doorbell startled her.
“Got it,” Anthony yelled. His heavy athletic shoes clomped toward the door.
“Look first and don’t open the door if you don’t recognize the person,” Willa reminded him.
“I know, I know,” Anthony replied, his tone dripping with exasperation at being treated like a kid.
Moments later she heard Anthony’s voice and a deeper male one. Then Cedric stood in the doorway. He patted the top of Mikayla’s head.
“Evening, ladies. Hard at work I see.” Cedric smiled down at Mikayla then nodded at Willa.
“Yes. I’m pretty sure Mikayla is making more progress than I am,” Willa complained. She swept at hand out over the papers. “Nothing helpful so far.”
“Come on, KayKay. Let the grown folks talk.” Anthony appeared and beckoned to his little sister. “Got something to show you.”
“No, wanna stay.” Mikayla’s brown eyes were bright with curiosity. “I’ll see it later.”
“Go finish your homework first then see what your brother wants to show you,” Willa said firmly. She pointed toward Mikayla’s room.
Mikayla pouted briefly then stood. She tucked her workbook under one arm. “Okay. Bye, Mr. Cedric.”
“Bye, Mikayla.” Cedric replied with a smile. He walked a few feet into the room then stopped. “No paper trail yet, huh?”
“Nothing except confirmation that he loved expensive wines and cheap women,” Willa retorted. “And respect for the way Kay kept his office straight.”
“Yeah, but give him his due. Jack had a rare skill for building networks and getting clients.” Cedric sat down in one of two large recliners. Propped his elbows on both knees. “What I can do to help?”
“Go through a couple of these piles for me. I’ve got them sorted into receipts, paid bills, and so on.” Willa frowned over one more credit card statement with hotel bills and lingerie on them.
“You okay? I mean, Jack took care of business but then he liked to play. Considering he was your husband this might be hard,” Cedric said, his voice low.
“Ex-husband,” Willa corrected.
“True.” Cedric wore a sympathetic expression. “Still.”
“Humph, I’m not learning much that’s new. Well, this bill from a company called Smack That gave me a chuckle.” Willa started to say more and then stopped. She held out a catalog of bondage accessories and let that speak for itself.
Cedric took it. “We didn’t have a contract with a company called- Oh! Oh!” He cleared his throat.
�
��Put that one in my special file over there.” Willa grinned at the way Cedric squirmed and avoided eye contact. She pointed to a plain brown folder.
“Gotcha. Anything related to an account of any kind?” Cedric appeared anxious to change the subject.
Willa suppressed a giggle. “Ahem, nothing but his personal checking and savings accounts. Both quite healthy I might add. So he wasn’t exactly broke.”
“Not to get too personal, but how healthy are we talking?” Cedric picked up a stack of papers and sorted through them like an expert speed-reader.
“Six thousand in the checking account. And...” Willa went back to that stack and plucked out the relevant bank statement. “Seventy-five thousand in savings.”
Cedric moved on to another stack. “What’s this big pile?”
“What I haven’t gone through yet.” Willa said.
They both worked in silence for a time; the only sound was from papers being shuffled. Mikayla stuck her head in the door in one last bid to be included. Willa took her down the hallway to her bedroom. On the way back to the den she stopped to pour a glass of wine for Cedric. When she returned she placed it on the table to his left.
“There you go. Might as well relax while we slog through this stuff.” Willa smiled at him.
“Thanks.” Cedric frowned at something he was reading. “Jack liked to travel.”
“Didn’t he though? Just ask MiMi. Took her all kinds of exciting places,” Willa retorted. “One of their favorite destinations seemed to be the Caribbean.”
“Really? It’s good to be the boss,” Cedric joked. “I haven’t taken a vacation since… ninety-two, I think.”
“Looks like Jack took trips alone. Business?” Willa showed the travel agency invoices to Cedric.
He read them. “Georgetown, Grand Cayman Island. Interesting.”
“Jack was not into solitary recreation. My guess is he had a lady on that island. Probably more than one. No wonder he bought two of almost everything at those lingerie boutiques.”
“Right.” Cedric wasn’t paying attention to her complaints about Jack. He was digging through more papers as Willa talked.