by P. C. Zick
"What about Stanley?" Cassie turned to me for an answer.
"Dad never really got over the fact that his mother was insane. He and Uncle Philip would argue about it whenever they'd had too much to drink, but other than that, the subject was taboo around the family. I was always grateful that Dad died before Mom's illness began. I'm not sure he would have survived it. I've never thought about it much, Claire, but since you've mentioned it, I wonder. Do you think Grandma really had Alzheimer's?" I asked.
"When I saw Susan constantly in motion even when she was sitting, I sure thought back to visiting your grandmother."
"Exactly. I knew it was all familiar, but not because of my mom. She never had the same characteristics, even at her worst moments. But Susan reminds me of Grandma. I never put the two together before."
"We have to do something. We can't let Susan die the way her mother did," Claire interrupted my revelation by bringing me back to the present.
"No, I know. And I won't let it happen. We'll work something out." Even though I tried to sound reassuring, I wasn't sure what I would do next.
I began a several month struggle with the nursing home as I persuaded them to keep her. Finally, after adjustments of her treatment and medications, Aunt Susan's violent attacks disappeared almost entirely. The nursing home decided she would be able to stay as long as I wanted her to remain with them. Ironically, soon after they made their decision, Susan's body began to wear out.
She died all alone one Saturday in June 1995 as I sat at my computer writing about the destructiveness of a life without love.
Her death came as a relief after the months of watching her suffer, but I couldn't help but wonder why someone with such a loving spirit died in such a miserable state. Did any of us ever truly understand the vagaries of this life, I thought. When it became too much for me to comprehend, I wrote to escape the pessimistic edge creeping into my consciousness.
Even though I thought I was writing fiction, Kristina would soon bring a reality all her own to my writing and escape would be all but impossible.
Things became complicated when my lawyer, Tim, began to process Susan's will. As he began unraveling the pieces, we realized it wouldn't be a simple case of filing with probate.
"I found the lawyer in Grosse Pointe who held your aunt's will. It looks a little complicated," Tim told me during a phone conversation several weeks after Aunt Susan's death.
"How so?" I asked.
"Everyone she mentions as beneficiaries in her will is deceased, I think. Maybe you can help clarify. Who is Marjorie Elizabeth Townsend?"
"My mother. She died in 1994. She was Susan's sister-in-law," I said.
"Philip Paul Townsend is the other beneficiary."
"Uncle Philip, her brother. He died in 1993."
"Evidently Susan never went back and changed her will after they died."
"No, probably not. She was becoming a little disoriented around the time of my mother's death. But wouldn't Claire inherit Philip's share and me, my mom's?" I asked warily.
"No, not the way she worded the will. Your part should be fairly clear-cut, but Philip's must be inherited through direct family line, not a spouse. Did Philip have children?"
"One son, Gary. He died in 1990."
"Gary have any children?"
"One daughter, still living."
"OK, it may not be so complicated after all, except we'll have to pull death certificates and then file a special request with the court. Could take up to twenty-four months."
"Sure, no problem. I guess the money will just grow in that time, right?" I knew Susan's money needed a little rest period to build itself back after the drain of her last few years.
"Do you have Gary's daughter's address? We'll need to send her notification."
"Sure, hang on a minute," I told Tim. We hadn't heard from Kristina in over a year, but I was certain this news would make her happy.
True to form, when Kristina received her letter from Tim, she called Claire immediately. Claire told me later that she spent little time on the formalities, but wanted to know when the money would be dispersed.
"I told her it might be several months. Was that OK?" Claire asked me later at dinner.
"It might be longer, more like several years. You know how the courts are. Next time she calls, tell her you don't know anything, and she'll have to talk to me."
"She also wondered about you handling the estate. She said something about you having far too much power over her life now," Claire said.
"Too bad, isn't it? I don't see it as control. She's got her own life. Now, more importantly do you want to go to Tessa's dance recital with us on Saturday?" I asked Claire more to change the subject than any real curiosity about her answer. Where my children were concerned, Claire showed exceptional partiality.
"You think I would miss the bestest, most gracefullest dancer in the whole company? You bet, I'm going!"
Sometimes Claire had difficulty attending these events because she had become increasingly frail even though her mind remained sharp as a tack. It was difficult to remember sometimes that she was actually eighty-eight years old.
I continued signing documents for Aunt Susan's estate, but there was no end in sight to the settlement. Tim began to get harassing phone calls from Kristina who was demanding to know when she would get her money.
"I told her I would talk to her once, but after that, since I was working for you, she would have to get her own attorney. I sent her a listing from the Las Vegas yellow pages. That should keep her quiet for now. What's the deal with her?" Tim asked during one of our many phone conversations regarding the estate.
"Don't ask," I said. "She feels the world owes her a living, I guess."
Soon after this conversation, Claire received another call from Kristina. After she hung up the phone, Claire came into the study where I was diligently writing.
"What do you hear from the lawyer about Susan's money?" she asked.
I knew that Kristina must have called because Claire would never ask questions about someone else's money on her own.
"Kristina called?"
"Yes, she really wants me to see if the lawyer or I can lend her the amount she's entitled to until everything is settled."
"That's ludicrous, Claire. I hope you told her to be patient."
"I tried, but she was very agitated. She made some accusations against you, Ed. I was thinking it might be better for everyone if I just lent her the money."
"I don't think that's a very good idea."
"I called Tim Pierce after my talk with Kristina and asked him about it. I hope you don't mind."
"What did he say?"
"First he said the same thing you did. But then he said it could be arranged, but he would advise that I get a regular loan drawn up with a payment plan and interest. That sounds a little too impersonal."
"I think Tim makes sense. If you think, you should do this, then make her really pay back the money, just like anyone else. But I still think you'd just be asking for trouble."
"Ed, there's more. Kris asked that you send her a copy of every check you have ever written on the account including while Susan was still alive. She also wants all the financial statements and all of the legal documents sent to her from the time you became Susan's guardian. I told her she was asking an awful lot, but that I would give you the message."
I stared at Claire for a long time before I could respond. "Why would she want all of that?"
"She thinks you might be trying to cheat her out of her fair share," Claire said.
I let out a long breath of air. "You know I would have appreciated all of this attention while I was trying to keep Aunt Susan safe and protected. Where was our little Kristina then? Did she ever call one time to ask how her aunt was? Did she ever offer to help me with all of the decisions?" I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer
"Ed, please don't be upset. I'm only passing on her request. You know Kris as well as me, if not better. You at least alwa
ys saw through her. And I'm certain that Pam is somewhere behind all of this, pushing and prodding Kris at every chance."
"Claire, hold off on the loan. If I do send Kristina any paperwork, I will take my sweet time about it. I'm not required to send her anything, you know. And the next time she wants to talk about Susan's estate, please tell her you don't know anything, OK?" I tried to keep my voice soft so Claire wouldn't hear the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
That night I went for a long walk and thought about the past. I thought about Gary for the first time in months and was glad he wasn’t here to witness Kristina’s greed. I shuddered when I remembered my passion for her and felt revulsion that I had ever touched her body. However, I couldn't take it back. Kristina's contribution to the family seemed to lie in her ability to suck up all the vile underbelly of our desires and bring them to the surface as we watched them pus and curdle and stink.
Good old Ed. Everyone trusted me and counted on me during times of crisis and times of strife. Me, who with one soft word from a child twenty-seven years younger than me, crumbled at her feet and gave over my self to the demons rising to the surface as I struggled to get into Kristina's pants.
Just when I thought I had conquered those demons lurking within my soul, Kristina would come back to haunt me as I tried to make sense of my life. As I thought of her, I became filled with disgust. I also fought against the images of her naked breasts pressing against my mouth and her mouth forming around my rising betrayer. How could I ever be free of her when those pictures could so easily float to the surface of my consciousness causing me once again to be aroused and agitated?
I walked faster and tried to push those pictures from my mind. Suddenly, I thought of Pam and her late night phone calls during my marriage to Kelsey.
"Ed," she said during one of her last calls before I left Ann Arbor, "I'm getting married. And he wants to adopt Kristina."
I remembered the words exactly, "And he wants to adopt Kristina." If Timmons adopted Kris, as I assumed he had, was she still considered the daughter of Gary? Did the law recognize bloodlines or legal documents?
The next morning I called my lawyer to find out the answers. "Tim, if Kristina was adopted by her stepfather, would she still be able to inherit Susan's estate?"
"Was it a legal adoption? We’d need to see the birth certificate. If it was a legal adoption, it means Gary signed away his rights as the birth father and the birth certificate is changed accordingly."
"I don't know. How can I find out?"
"Do you know where Kristina was born and the approximate date?"
"I know exactly."
"Then send for the birth certificate from that state's department of records."
Four weeks later, the birth certificate arrived in the mail. On the line next to name of father, it read, "Oscar Timmons," with no mention of a Townsend anywhere on the form. I immediately called Tim.
"I'll compose the letter. Send over the birth certificate so I can send a copy of that, too. It looks like you'll be getting the whole thing. It could make life easier," Tim said when I called with the news of the birth certificate.
I put off telling Claire anything until after my phone call with the lawyer. But I decided to tell her before Kristina received her letter. There would be fireworks all aimed at me.
"So, because Gary's name appears nowhere on her birth certificate, she isn't seen as his child, legally." I tried to sum up the news as neatly as possible.
"I'll be. Serves Pam right. She's probably been putting Kristina up to all this nonsense." Claire said.
"Now, Claire, Kristina and Pam will most likely be upset about this. You'll probably hear from one or both of them," I said.
"She didn't deserve that money, and Pam certainly shouldn't have any part of it. It should rightfully go to you. This is the right thing," she said before going to bed for the night.
I waited for Kristina's next move, but surprisingly we heard nothing for months. When Claire received her bank statement showing the previous month's allowance check had not been cashed, she tried calling Kristina's number, but it was disconnected. Claire worried about her, but I felt nothing but relief.
One afternoon Cassie interrupted my writing. "Ed, something's not right with Claire. She's in her room resting right now, but she seems a little disoriented," she said.
"Claire, can I come in?" I asked after knocking on her bedroom door several times with no response.
I opened the door. Claire seemed to be sleeping. I tried to wake her, but she was very groggy. When I called the doctor, he recommended putting her in the hospital for observation. The doctor deduced that Claire had been over-medicating herself, forgetting when she had taken the last pill and then forgetting to take others. When we explained to Claire what happened, she begged to be moved into the limited care facility that had recently been built in the neighborhood.
"I swore I would never be a burden to you two," Claire said. "Cassie can't take care of the two little ones, work part-time, and take care of me. Please let me go there. I'll still be close, but I can pay others to watch over me."
With much reluctance, we agreed to her plan and moved her in the next week. She had a few friends there already and even joined a bridge club the first week after her arrival. I gave Claire Pam's address, and she addressed a letter to Kristina, giving her new address and phone number. Soon Kristina was on the phone to Claire.
"What are you doing there, Grandma?" Claire told me Kristina asked when she first called.
"She's going to come for a visit, Ed. She's worried about me," Claire said.
"When is she coming?" I asked.
"Next week."
"I'll make reservations for her at a motel nearby. She can rent a car at the airport," I said.
"Can't she just stay with you?"
"I don't think that's a good idea, Claire."
"Why? I was hoping we could have some meals together, just like old times."
"I don't trust her, and I don't want her around my children."
"I wish we could just be a family." Claire looked at me forlornly. When I didn't respond, she squared her shoulders before continuing. "But if you feel that strongly about it then I guess that's that. We can have dinner together one night though, can't we?"
"We'll see, Claire. I'm sorry if this hurts you, but I have to think of my family. Besides, you two have lots of catching up to do, and you don't need a couple of toddlers and two pushy adults in the way. You'll have a better time without us around."
"If you say so. You know best," Claire said, as I bent down to kiss her good-bye.
He sat calmly on the beach allowing the waves to wash over his feet. The salt water healed his wounds leaving behind the gray slashes that now scarred his skin. As he gazed upon the dead flesh, he found peace.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I kept my word and stayed away during Kristina's visit. I'm not sure what Claire told Kristina, but Kristina stayed away from me, too. I didn't hear anything until the morning of her departure when I received a telephone call.
"Mr. Townsend? This is Sally Hines, the nurse at Oakview."
"Hello, Ms. Hines."
"This morning when your aunt got up to go to the bathroom, she became quite dizzy and fell against the tub. She's on her way to the emergency room at Monroe if you want to meet her there."
By the time I arrived at the hospital, they had already admitted her to a cubicle and were working on her wounds. They wanted permission to do a CAT scan since she hit her head pretty hard.
"Sure, do whatever's needed, doctor," I said before pulling aside the curtain to enter the small space occupied by Claire.
"What are you trying to do, get some sympathy or get ready for Halloween," I said as I came close to the bed and saw the bruises and cuts.
"Ed, I'm so glad you’re here," Claire said before she burst into tears. Even though Claire and I had been close for years and suffered together the tragedies of losing those closest to us, this was th
e first time I had seen her cry.
"What's wrong? Hey, don't cry. I was just joking," I said as I patted her back. She grabbed my hand and pulled it close to her face. "Where's Kristina?" I asked.
"We said good-bye last night. Her flight was early this morning. Ed, I thought you were mad at me. I'm so glad you're here."
"Now why would I be mad at you? You're my best girl after Cassie and Tessa."
"Oh, you know, all that stuff with Kristina. And then all week I expected you to call at the very least, and I didn't hear anything. I thought you were mad because I let her come."
"No, I told you why I stayed away. I bet you had a much better visit without me around to mess things up."
"We did have a nice visit. Kristina took me all sorts of places. But that kid, she has such bad luck. All the time."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Last night, for instance. She said she just wanted to buy her grandma a coke, so we drove down to the 7-11 on the corner. She went inside while I waited. When she came out, she looked puzzled as she handed me my drink. I said, 'What's the matter, Kris?' She told me she had given the clerk a $50 bill for the drinks but now she couldn't find the change."
"Didn't she go back inside and ask about it?" I asked.
"No, I guess she didn't. I told her, 'Since you just wanted your grandma to have a drink, I think I can give you fifty dollars.' So I did. But you know, Ed, that's all the cash I had. Do you think you can go to the bank for me?"
"Sure, Claire, don't worry. Where's your purse?"
"I made sure they brought it with me. A lady must never go out without her purse, you know."
"Yes, I know. Is your checkbook there?"
"Yes. Just take it and write me a check for cash."
I took the checkbook and attempted to account for every check written since Kristina's arrival. All I saw was one written out for $350, which Claire told me covered Kristina's airline ticket and car rental. Not too bad and fairly reasonable, I thought. When I asked her about paying for the motel, she told me she charged it. I would look over those statements carefully, too. On the surface, it seemed on this visit all that Kristina had managed to scam had been the fifty dollars that Claire could well afford. It was the means she used to get that money that always amazed me.