The Will of Wisteria

by Denise Hildreth Jones

  “Stressful? Stressful for a man watching television, or for a woman whose head was wrapped up in a hood?!”

  “I’m sorry! Now, just tell me what it all means.”

  “It means, Nate, that for one year I can’t travel, can’t shop, can’t do anything! All I can do is go to work for nothing, and if I don’t, there is no inheritance!”

  Nate rubbed his head as if trying to push this information inside. “So you have to do this for a year?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Or no inheritance?”

  “Zero. Zilch. Nada. Niets. Nichts. Niente. I can say nothing in ten more languages, if you want. All countries I won’t see for a year !”

  “It’s just a year, Mary Catherine!”

  She gaped at him. “What do you mean, it’s just a year?! You don’t think there is any way this side of the very fiery gates of hell that I am going to spend a year working !”

  “MC . . . uh, Mary Catherine, baby doll, listen to me. Listen to me.” He started rubbing her arm and trying to ease her rigid body back onto the sofa. “Baby, just think about it. Would you give up everything we—you—have planned for your life, just for a year? You can do anything for a year.”

  Rigor mortis had set completely in by this point.

  He rubbed harder and faster.

  “Quit rubbing me!” She slapped his hand. “I’m not a genie!”

  “You can do this, Mary Catherine. Just think about it. What does the rest of your family have to do?”

  “The same thing—work for nothing! But they don’t care about traveling and buying things. They like to work!”

  “Well, think about it. Think about Elizabeth. She’d hate giving up control of her law practice, with all that she’s built and slaved over.”

  Her head cocked slightly. She could tell he was trying to cheer her up.

  “And what about your brother. George?”

  “Jeffrey.”

  “Yeah, what about him? He’s a plastic surgeon. He’d have to give up fine women for a year. He’ll never be able to do that. And your little brother, he isn’t good for anything. He wouldn’t work if his life depended on it.”

  She studied the face of the man next to her. She had been with him for a long time and thought she knew him. Yet something was different about him tonight. He was halfway making sense. “I can’t do it for a whole year either. It’s too much to ask of one person.”

  His mouth twitched slightly. “You could have the entire inheritance to yourself, Mary Catherine.”

  “You think?”

  “I’m certain. Your brothers and sister—they’re a bunch of wusses. They’ll never do this. But you, my sweet Mary Catherine.” He bent down and kissed her firmly. “You can whup every single one of them. It’s just a year.”

  “It might be a good idea to quit saying the year word.”

  “Okay, no more year.”

  She leaned into his shoulder. “You really think I can do it?”

  “I’m certain you can, baby doll.”

  Her eyes scanned the bar in the kitchen as her head rested against him. She noticed the empty spaghetti plate sitting on the counter. He had eaten. She had been abducted and tormented while he sat in front of the TV eating spaghetti. She got up from the sofa, reached over, and slapped him upside the head, then headed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  chapter four

  Elizabeth woke to find herself on the sunporch sofa. She smelled bacon and heard the sounds of Beethoven’s “Für Elise” wafting through the house as well. Sunlight warmed her face as she stretched. This was her favorite time of day, early morning, the brightness of the morning sun refusing the shadows a place to hide.

  Yet the shadows crept back, the memories of last night, filtering in as the sun filtered through the windows. She cursed the fear that had overtaken her last night, compelling her to close all the shutters; apparently Aaron had opened them.

  The scent of bacon drew her into the kitchen, where Aaron stood at the stove in an olive green linen apron.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.”

  “Morning.” She rubbed her eyes. “Nice skirt.”

  “You think olive suits me? I wasn’t sure.”

  She laughed and pointed toward the frying pan. “Smells like grease.”

  “Tastes better.” He set his plate down at the bar and motioned her over.

  She studied the plate. Two eggs over easy, cheese grits, home fries, and two perfectly crisp pieces of bacon on the side. “Where’d you get all that?”

  “Not from your fridge, that’s for sure.” He grinned. “I went to the store while you were out cold.”

  She pulled the bar stool out, and he slid a bowl of granola toward her. With a side of orange juice. “Your breakfast.” He grimaced.

  “Sure you don’t want some of mine?” He picked his plate up and ran it under her nose.

  “Not on your life.”

  “All right then. Eat your heart out.” Aaron picked up a fork and began to shovel it down with gusto, the morning stubble on his face prominent as his jaw moved. “So what’s running through your head this morning?”

  She furrowed her brow at him. “I’m supposed to be thinking already?”

  “Well, you’ve got that look.”

  “What look?”

  He wrinkled his forehead in imitation of her. “That look. Your concentrating look. I think you must have come out of the womb with it.”

  “Aaron, it’s too early to think.” She crunched her granola. “Even for me.”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking, even if you haven’t.” His curved fingers ran down the small juice glass, pushing the condensation down around its base. “It’s your father’s will, Lizzy.”

  “It’s my father’s manipulation. It’s what he always did.”

  “It’s what he used to do. He wasn’t that way anymore. You just didn’t take time to get to know him.”

  She wiped her mouth and turned in his direction. “I gave my father twenty-eight years to get to know me. He never made the effort. All his effort went into protecting his investments, his reputation. He just wanted someone with the Wilcott name to take over his company, and I’m the only offspring he produced that is worth anything.”

  “If he wanted you to do this, Lizzy, I know he had a good—”

  The doorbell interrupted him.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She raced to the front door and opened it. A stranger stood there, holding out an envelope. She jerked it out of his hands and ripped the envelope open.

  Aaron came up behind her. “Your father’s will?”

  She nodded, flipping through to the last page. All that mattered were the names. The ones she found didn’t surprise her.

  Without a word Elizabeth dashed back through the kitchen to the sunporch with Aaron flip-flopping behind her. Elizabeth thrust her feet into her running shoes, grabbed her keys, and took off toward the garage. When she opened the door of her Jeep Commando, she could see the top of Aaron’s head on the other side. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  She left him standing in the garage. He was a speck in her rearview mirror in less than ten seconds.

  When Elizabeth reached the home of Harvey Jefferson, she wasted no time with the doorbell but simply began banging on the heavy front door. Harvey was the oldest of her father’s friends, and keeper of all his secrets. He had worked for her father for almost fifty years. They had been army buddies together.

  Harvey opened the door, his tie hanging unknotted around the collar of his starched white shirt.

  “Elizabeth, what are you—?”

  She shook the papers in front of him, yet her voice remained perfectly calm. “What did you make him do, Harvey? What did you and Lester make him do?”

  Harvey squinted. “What is that, Elizabeth?”

  “It’s my father’s will, Harvey. The one he changed. The one you signed.”

  He stood back from the doorway. “Would you like
to come in?”

  “Only if you’re going to tell me the truth.”

  “I’m an army man, Elizabeth. I don’t lie.”

  She stepped inside. Harvey closed the door behind her and stared into her eyes. He had always remarked on how she had her father’s eyes, and now she wondered if he were seeing the reflection of his old friend in her face. “I did sign a new will, Elizabeth. I gather from your reaction that it had some significant changes to it. But your father wouldn’t let me read it. Lester and I only witnessed that it was a new document, signed by your father.”

  She started to pace the foyer. “That’s crazy.”

  “We didn’t ask him any questions, Elizabeth. He was adamant. He only said that it was what had to happen.”

  She turned to study the crystal blue eyes of her father’s friend. “He told you nothing.”

  “He told me nothing. And your father tells me everything. He said it would be best if no one knew; that way when his children came to question us, we could honestly say we didn’t know. Obviously he was right.”

  Elizabeth stopped pacing. “Why would he change his will?”

  “Your father never made any decision without great thought. That may not be much consolation, but it is the best I can do.”

  She looked up to study Harvey’s eyes one more time. If his soul was as pure as the blue of his eyes, Harvey didn’t know a thing.

  By the time Elizabeth reached home, the idea had formulated itself in her mind. It was less an idea than a revelation, and Aaron always said her revelations weren’t exactly trustworthy. She had, in his words, too many “issues.” But she was confident in this one.

  She walked back through the kitchen without so much as speaking to Aaron. He untied his apron, laid it on the counter, and followed her into her office. She was already rummaging through the drawers of her large burled walnut desk.

  “I can’t believe that I didn’t think of this in the beginning. I’m usually much quicker.”

  “Think of what?”

  She stood up, holding a red folder in her hand. She waved it in his direction. “I’m smarter than this. I should have thought through all the possibilities. Why would my father change his will at the last minute?”

  “I don’t know. Why?” he asked, sitting down on the sofa across from her.

  “Think, Aaron. It’s really simple. Think of how strange he acted after I left the company. He was declining rapidly. So with that in mind, is it not possible that someone manipulated him into changing the will?”

  He leaned his head back on the sofa and rubbed his eyes. “Your father wasn’t declining, Lizzy.”

  “It’s harder to view someone objectively when you are with him day in and day out. It’s understandable you didn’t see it. Plus, your admiration for him caused you to be far less objective, I’m sure.”

  Aaron raised his head, the furrow of his brow deepening. “Don’t analyze me, Elizabeth.”

  She felt herself flush but wasn’t about to apologize. “If you were able to see it from my vantage point, you’d know he was making very irrational decisions.”

  She sat down at the desk and opened the file. Her fingers scanned down the sheet, her eyes brightening as the name she was looking for rested beneath her finger. She’d used him in a case trying to prove illegal activity for a purchase of some land downtown. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

  “You’ve reached James Cavanaugh. Please leave a message, and I will call you back.”

  She waited for the beep. “James, this is Elizabeth Wilcott. I was the attorney for Hawthorne Building Group when they were working on the Chapel Street property a couple of years ago. You and I worked together on that, and I need to talk with you about another matter. If you could call me at your earliest convenience, I would greatly appreciate it.” She left her number and hung up, closing the file in front of her.

  “Well, that will be productive.”

  “Yes, it will.” She leaned back, and her chair squeaked slightly. “Wonder where I left the oil can?”

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” Aaron said. “You really think there is something suspicious going on with this?”

  “We’ll see.” She cocked her head.

  “You’re completely paranoid. Who? Who would try to manipulate and control your father?”

  “Jeffrey,” she said flatly.

  Aaron laughed out loud. “Jeffrey?”

  “Yes. I wouldn’t put it past him. You know how much the prestige of money and fame mean to him. He wants the position that our father held, and he thinks his money could afford him that.”

  She chewed on a hangnail, then stopped herself and forced her hand away from her mouth.

  “Jeffrey probably got to him when he was weak. Talked him into this craziness after he had already found some kind of pro bono job he could do for a year. He’s probably taken care of every detail to make sure his business runs perfectly. Even down to that charade last night. If I ever saw anybody overacting—”

  She paused, waiting for Aaron to confirm or deny or argue. When he remained silent, she want on. “He’s so self-absorbed he wouldn’t even consider the possibility that any of us would do it. I’m sure he thinks he has this entire inheritance sewn up. We both know neither Mary Catherine nor Will is capable of pulling off a challenge like this. But he is very foolish in thinking that I couldn’t.”

  Aaron gave her a curious look. “Is that enough to motivate you?”

  She ran her hands across the leather inlay on the desktop. “Jeffrey beating me at something? Especially something this big? Sadly, I think it might be.”

  He wasted no time. Aaron jumped up from his seat. “Then go get dressed so you can go to the office and get to work on making sure your business is taken care of for the next year.”

  She stared at him, and her mind spun. Finally she shook her head adamantly. “This is absurd. I can’t do this. I have clients. An entire practice. This really is insane, Aaron.”

  “Have you ever just thought about taking a leap, Lizzy?”

  “I took a leap the day I left my father’s business.”

  “When? The day you left his business with a $200,000 annual trust fund?”

  She raised her right eyebrow. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is a real leap, Lizzy. A leap you can’t control. A leap so big that you have no idea what is on the other side. Don’t you wonder what is on the other side of life?”

  “I love my life.”

  “Of course you do, because you can control your life.” His blue eyes studied her. He walked over to where she sat and reached his hand out to her. “I want you to take this leap.”

  “A leap formulated by a sick brother? That’s not a leap. That’s insanity.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the chair. “Yes, it is. It is completely insane. But I don’t think your father was crazy. I don’t think Jeffrey has anything to do with this. And as crazy as it may sound, I think there is something in this that you might find amazing.”

  She looked into his eyes and leaned toward him, and could feel his warmth. For a minute she almost believed him.

  He tugged her to him. “You have capable employees, Elizabeth. You make me a list of all the essential information that they need, and I will personally make sure your law practice runs the next year as if you were there every day.”

  She tilted her head back slightly and examined his face. His eagerness for her to accept the challenge of the will might mean that he was really a part of all of this. And now he was willing to take care of her business. The question lingered, but her brother Jeffrey seemed the more likely suspect.

  Besides, the way he was holding her didn’t feel like a man who was out for her money. It was more like—

  She pushed the thought aside. “Aaron, this is crazy.”

  “Ludicrous,” he confirmed. “Let’s do it.”

  chapter five

  Jeffrey!” The nasal voice penetrated the guesthouse.
Jeffrey didn’t move. Everything about her irritated him. Especially today.

  “Jeffrey! I’ve been looking all over for you. You’ve got to get up. We’re already going to be late for the reading of your daddy’s will.”

  Her perfume stung his nostrils. The woman wore more perfume than a pig wore stink. He twitched his nose and cracked one eye open. There she stood, her bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath a floppy black hat, her manufactured breasts straining at the plunging neckline of a skimpy black dress.

  “We’ve already had the reading of the will.” He rolled over and stuck his face in the sofa cushions, wishing the ostrich move could work for him.

  She shook his arm, hard. “Jeffrey! I’m serious! Get up!”

  He jumped off the sofa, startling her and not doing himself any favors either. At his feet lay an empty vodka bottle, a reminder of why his head was pounding. The room began to spin.

  “There is no reading of the will today, Jennifer!” Jeffrey yelled. The yelling wasn’t such a good idea either. The noise made the room spin faster, and he had to sit back down on the sofa.

  “Do they cancel will readings?”

  Jeffrey rubbed his temples. “No, it’s all a joke. The whole will is a joke! Dear old Daddy is getting the last laugh from his grave.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He turned to look at her. She was paying him absolutely no attention; instead, she was peering into the mirror, rubbing lipstick from her teeth. Had she been watching him, she wouldn’t have missed his eyes rolling. “There is no will.”

  That took her attention off herself. Literally anyway. “You mean we aren’t getting your daddy’s money?” She sank down onto the edge of the sofa, looking stunned.

  “We?”

  “Well, you know what I mean.”

  “No, I’m not getting Daddy’s money. Not unless I follow along with his ludicrous scheme for the next year, which I have entirely no intention of doing.”

  Her Botoxed brow would have furrowed if it had been capable. “Jeffrey, you’re confusing me. Tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about a father who wants to pawn his self-righteousness off on his children after his death instead of caring about them while he’s alive. That’s what I’m talking about. And if he thinks he’s going to get me to become some soft-hearted do-gooder like he decided to do the last couple of years, even though he couldn’t take good enough care of himself to keep doing it, he’s got another thing coming.”