I haven’t given you the full report; I can’t bring myself to do it. I hope you understand. There were words I never heard anyone but Richard Pryor say. She was firing away, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, so fast and furiously I couldn’t keep up with her. I had to take a few deep breaths to keep my countenance, as Papa used to say. When we got out onto the street, I asked, “Spontaneous or rehearsed?” She smiled slyly. “Just great good luck,” she said. The DNA testing was a reference to the Peele divorce. Flush with victory, 3M sent me the attached email last night. It provides color.
Narragansett Statutes
Title 33 of the Narragansett Code, Sections 801ff.
Dissolution of Marriage, Annulment, and Legal Separation
Sec. 806. Paternity establishment.
There is a presumption that a child born during a marriage is the issue of the marriage, and no person may challenge this presumption save the parties to the marriage.
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: Proctor Hand
To: Sophie Diehl
RE: The Maria Maple Mather Meiklejohn Trusts
Date: July 9, 1999
Attachments:
Mrs. Meiklejohn’s will, probated in 1982, set up two trusts, one for Mia Meiklejohn and one for Cordelia Meiklejohn. Each trust had an original principal of $400,000. Mia’s vests on her 50th birthday. I am her sole trustee. Cordelia’s money will remain in trust, with Bruce Meiklejohn and me acting as trustees, until Cordelia’s death, at which time the remaining funds, if any, will be settled on Mia or, if she has died, her children. Cordelia’s trusts may be invaded for purposes of “necessity,” Mia’s for “emergency” purposes only. To date, there have been no invasions. The money has been invested in blue chip stocks averaging approximately 8% a year. Each currently stands at $1.47 million. Under the rule of 72, I would expect Ms. Meiklejohn’s to double by the time it vests.
I can, if you think it useful, provide a trustee’s letter to Dr. Durkheim, outlining the terms of his wife’s trust and its current balance. I submit a letter annually to Probate Court; I can send him a copy. I can also include in the covering letter, if you like, a paragraph on the Vineyard property. I understand the other side keeps raising the matter of the Vineyard property. It might be helpful if they knew the terms limiting its use.
Let me know if you need anything else. It is my position that the terms of Bruce Meiklejohn’s will are irrelevant to any settlement talks.
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: The Maria Maple Mather Meiklejohn Trust
Date: July 9, 1999
Attachments: Meiklejohn Trust Memo
I’ve spoken to Proctor and examined Mrs. Meiklejohn’s trust. Proctor also wrote a brief memo, which I attach here. Some interesting additional facts: Mrs. Meiklejohn (4M) died in 1979; it took three years to settle her estate. There must have been a lot of other money and property. 3M’s “issue” is the residual beneficiaries of both trusts. If there are no children surviving, the money goes to Planned Parenthood of New Salem. (Proctor says 4M was on their board and helped underwrite the first abortion-rights case in Narragansett, McMillan v. Bishop, which pre-Roe upheld the right to abortion in Narragansett in the first 16 weeks.)
In the last 17 years, both trusts have grown considerably, the beneficiaries of early investment and a rising market. (Go Suze Orman; oh, for the courage to be rich.) By the time 3M’s vests, it may have reached $3 million. The annual statements have been sent to Bruce Meiklejohn, which probably explains 3M’s ignorance. In the event of Proctor’s death or retirement from the firm, William Frost is Proctor’s successor trustee. Frost’s successor trustee, should it come to that, is the then-managing partner of Traynor, Hand. If you live a very long time…
In light of this trust and the Vineyard house tenancy, we can be more flexible on the 401(k), etc., but not on the matter of alimony. 3M doesn’t need a retirement fund, but she does need money for the next seven years. No doubt Dr. D and Kahn will argue in favor of invading the trust now. I’ll do a quick survey of the law and find out what the standard for an “emergency” is. Proctor has offered to write a letter to Kahn. Kahn’s going to go ape with this. I can hear him now, accusing us of withholding important information that affects every part of the agreement.
Trust
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Mia Meiklejohn
Date: Fri, 9 July 1999 16:02:19
Subject: Trust 7/9/99 4:02 PM
Mia—
I’m following up on our conversation regarding your mother’s trust. I will be sending you overland a formal letter, giving the terms of the trust and also the restrictions on the Aquinnah property. You can show the letter to Daniel and see what he has to say. I think he was truly shocked by the DNA testing. (Caveat: he may not remember his horror, however, given the meeting’s second act.) If we can’t count on Daniel’s better nature in the negotiations, we can count on his political instincts. He has a reputation to maintain in this community, and roughing up Bruce Meiklejohn’s daughter and granddaughter will do him no good if it gets about, especially after he bankrupted the fireman. And on that score, word about that has got around. Peter Maple? Nothing Jason Peele did ever surprised anyone. That was the source of his great success. He’d do whatever was necessary to succeed, though I’m guessing he drew the line at violent felonies. I can’t imagine the person who would have married him, and yet you say she’s lovely. But I digress. Let me know how the conversation goes. You’re a brave woman.
Yours,
Sophie
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
ATTORNEYS AT LAW
July 9, 1999
Mia Meiklejohn
404 St. Cloud Street
New Salem, NA 06556
Dear Mia:
I have two items for you to think about as we work on coming up with a settlement. The first regards the trust set up under your mother’s will. The second involves the property on Martha’s Vineyard.
As to the first item, I have spoken with Proctor Hand, who serves as Trustee of the Maria Maple Mather Meiklejohn Trust. He has provided the following report as of June 30, 1999. The trust in your name was set up in 1982 with $400,000. It will vest on your 50th birthday. It currently has approximately $1,470,000. At 8% interest (which it is averaging), it is likely to double by 2007. It can be invaded prior to vesting for “emergencies” but not for ordinary support (i.e., food, clothing, shelter, or education).
As to the second item, prior to her death, your mother donated 8 acres of the 13 she owned in Gay Head (now Aquinnah) to the Martha’s Vineyard Land Bank. These acres cannot be developed; they can be used for agricultural cultivation or pasture. The other 5 acres cannot be subdivided; there is a 3-acre lot minimum for houses in the area. While the 5 acres, with their views and protected farmlands, are valuable, they are not as valuable as your husband and his lawyer believe. The house, as I understand, is in serious disrepair and has no particular architectural value, being an ordinary, run-down 1840 Greek Revival farmhouse with less than 3,000 square feet, a damp 4-foot cellar, blocked chimneys, a kitchen last updated in the Depression, and no inside commodes. (Proctor said he spent the most uncomfortable weekend of his life at that house. “As much as I loved Maria,” he said, “she could never get me up again. The outhouse was a completely uncharming feature.”)
As the benefits of both the trust and the house do not accrue to you in the near future, they should not figur
e in the settlement negotiations for child care and alimony.
You may wish to discuss this with your husband. I will also send a letter to Mr. Kahn.
Yours,
Anne Sophie Diehl
Stupendous
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Maggie Pfeiffer
Date: Mon, 12 July 1999 8:41:07
Subject: Stupendous 7/12/99 8:41 AM
Dear Maggie—
What a wonderful weekend. You were fabulous. I didn’t know the play; I haven’t seen much Shaw (I saw the movie My Fair Lady on TV; not as good as Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, but then what is?), and I’m always confusing him with Wilde. But what a fabulous lark. I don’t think there’s anything you can’t do.
You won’t believe this: Maman and I ran into Papa yesterday at lunch on our way out of town. We were eating at the diner on the Pittsfield Road, and in he walked. He’d been to the play last night. Did he go backstage to see you? Did you hear from him? No, of course not. Stealth Diehl. He came right over to the table. “You saw her, didn’t you,” he said, without so much as a hug or even a hello. He was so pleased with you, so proud. He kept saying, “Isn’t she wonderful? Isn’t she brilliant?” We agreed. He was very charming to Maman. “How are you, Elisabeth?” he asked. “Still beautiful, I see.” She wasn’t having any of it. “And you, how are you, John, still … still …?” He laughed. “Yes, I’m afraid so.” And what I want to know, Maggie, is this: Can’t he see me, or does he simply find me uninteresting? He paid me no mind. Maman could have been sitting in the booth alone. I hadn’t seen him for months. It was enraging. “How are you, Papa?” I asked, too loudly. “I’m not dying,” he said, “if that’s the drift of your question.” He then smiled. “Well, of course, I’m going to die. It’s in my DNA, but not this year or next or even the one after that. I’m thinking 82. What do you say, Sophie girl?” He then sat down at the booth and talked about his cancer and his decision to watch and wait. Maman thought it a reasonable plan but added, nodding toward me, “I’m not sure our daughter agrees. We haven’t got that American need to do something. I’ve never known an American man with your prognosis who hasn’t immediately signed up for surgery. Americans have no patience.” She stopped then, to make an editorial adjustment. “But with you,” she continued, looking at Papa, “with you, it’s not patience but some sort of balkiness …” She trailed off momentarily. “It’s the Hamlet part of your personality. Not to be confused with the Lear part.” He laughed. “Never waste an opportunity, Elisabeth, that’s what I say.” He then turned (finally!) to me and said he was going to come visit me in September. He asked if I would let him sit in on a motion or a trial I was doing. (He actually used the word motion—who thought he knew it? Could it be now and again he paid attention?) And then he patted my hand, got up, and went to sit at the counter. I know my father is a far better father than yours, but you must admit he has some pretty severe deficits. Maman, as if reading my mind, gave me a sharp look and said, “Sophie, he’s not going to change. He can’t. It all works too well for him. If you don’t let go, you’ll make yourself miserable.”
But wasn’t it just like him to go to see you and never say anything? I think I’m a little jealous. Maybe a lot. He’s so unabashedly proud of you. If you’d been sitting in the diner, he’d have noticed you.
All the men in my life are crapping out on me. Harry and I are kaput, well and truly. I didn’t want to say anything to you this weekend, but you must have seen it coming. We had dinner on Friday night, and I said I thought we’d reached the end of the line. He tried to look surprised and sad, but undiluted relief shone through. I’m not the right one for him. Monkey may not be the right person for him, but he wants someone more like her than like me, someone who takes him by the throat, someone like Melanie Griffith in Something Wild, or Zero Mostel in The Producers. It’s all right. He left his underpants on the floor.
You were great. You are great. I’ll try to get up for Travesties.
Love,
Sophie
The UnTrust
* * *
From: Mia Meiklejohn
To: Sophie Diehl
Date: Tue, 13 July 1999 11:05:22
Subject: The UnTrust 7/13/99 11:05 AM
Dear Sophie—
I’ve been trying to figure out why my mother would not have the trust vest until I was 50 and only allow invasion in the case of an emergency. I’ve come up with two possible explanations, both revelatory of an untrusting nature: (1) She knew how controlling my father was and how tightfisted he could be (a Scottish stereotype, which is proved in his case). She didn’t want him to abdicate responsibility for his older daughter because she had a large trust. She wanted him to step up and pay for college, the debutante ball (alas, yes), a dowry (ha!), a wedding or two, etc. The trust money was to be there in case I really, really, really needed it. (2) She didn’t want me to be loved for my money. She had been an heiress of sorts, or at least the beneficiary of a rich man’s will and famous name, and always thought the swarms of swains lounging on the doorstep were after, if not the money, then the prestige. She married my father, she used to say, because he thought it a hoot that there actually was someone alive in 1955 who was a descendant of Cotton Mather. He didn’t expect her to be rich. One of his gnomic (and no doubt keen) observations was to the effect that “old families who stay in one place run out of money by the third generation. They’ve no enterprise, no ambition, and within a century, the money is drunk or gambled away.”
I suppose we have to moderate our demands now. That makes me a little sad, not that I want the money, only that Danny will be so pleased. He really doesn’t want to give me anything. I suppose we can’t now up the alimony and child support requests, can we…
I do not have a good character.
Yours,
Mia
P.S. Regarding the Aquinnah house, you wouldn’t know from my mother’s will, being a Cape Codder, but its site is spectacular, with near views of Squibnocket Pond and more distant views of the Atlantic. Every room, except the water closets, has a water view. Further, the Land Bank land basically surrounds our land, keeping our views in every direction forever pristine. We haven’t had it appraised since my mother’s estate was settled, but I would guess it’s worth a lot. The land, not the house. (The house is a mess, hardly more comfortable than the one in that law case you sent me about that old couple.) One of the conditions of my mother’s will was that my father and I had to agree on any changes, and we can’t. (I want inside toilets and a stove with at least three burners; he wants the Breakers.) And did I mention that the Onassis estate is close by and we run into Caroline Kennedy and her kids all the time? And the house has a key to Black Point Beach, which I think we can sell separately but I’m not sure. (Someday I’ll explain the MV private beach system, which I disapprove of and benefit from. The rich liberal’s perpetual dilemma.)
M.
* * *
Huge Fight
* * *
From: Mia Meiklejohn
To: Sophie Diehl
Date: Thu, 15 July 1999 3:44:33
Subject: Huge Fight 7/15/99 3:44 AM
Dear Sophie—
I can’t believe how tough I’ve become. I’m channeling Richard Holbrooke. Bring on Slobodan Milosevic. I keep saying to myself when I get scared, which I do every night at bedtime: What is the worst he can do to me? And the answer is (in my saner moments): nothing. He can yell at me, of course, and he can make me cry (I cry at Kodak commercials, so that’s not a test), but he can’t really do anything else. I’m lucky. I don’t have money, but I have access to money. I won’t end up sleeping under Narragansett Bridge. Women should never give up their jobs when they get married (or their names); they’ve got to have money. If you have money, you can get through it. That’s the bottom line. Tell all your friends, all your clients. Put it in the newspapers, print it in circulars and stick the
m under doors. DON’T GIVE UP YOUR JOB.
I left your letter for Daniel on Monday, with, I’ll admit, a poisonous Post-it. (I told him to stop scratching his hairy ass and get down to business.) He didn’t say anything to me. I didn’t even see him for two days. Finally today, or rather yesterday, Wednesday, I bearded him as he was coming home in the evening. “When are we going to get this settled?” I asked him. “Let’s get it done.” He said he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with me and would only deal through his lawyer. Have your lawyer send Kahn a letter. I said okay, but if that was the case, we’d probably still be married when my trust vested. “What do you mean?” he said. I told him, “You know he’s a shit; you wanted a shit. Well, guess what, he’s not a particularly effective shit. And I’m perfectly willing to go to court.” He walked out of the room, closed the door, and got on the phone with his dermatologist. Did I mention she’s had work? I don’t think she can blink her eyes. Her skin is blemish-free, and her mind is idea-free.
The Divorce Papers: A Novel Page 27