TFRoot - The Elixer

by The Elixir (v1. 0) [lit]

  Tom had practically just stepped into the Barnstable house yesterday when he had received a phone call from Lucinda Hobson. He'd been very pleased to hear from her, for he really wanted to see her one more time before he left Cape Cod. Carole's RSD was a thing of the past; of this he had no doubt. Beyond this, however, the events of the past summer held little certainty for him. Neither he nor his wife had truly decided whether or not they believed that Lucinda's elixir had been the cause of her miraculous cure, and perhaps seeing Lucinda again would give him something, anything, upon which to base some conclusion. He and Carole had seen Lucinda only very infrequently around town after that night they had had dinner at her house, the night of the summer solstice, when she had told them about the elixir. It was not that they had purposely tried to avoid her; they had extended their own dinner invitation each time they had seen her, if for no other reason than to reciprocate for her hospitality, but she had always seemed to be otherwise engaged. Now, however, she had purposely sought out Tom. She had told him that she had something extremely important to discuss with him, and had once again invited him to dinner. Tom had countered with his own dinner invitation for this evening, which she had happily accepted.

  Lucinda took another cracker with some cheese, breaking it in half and giving a piece to Sammy.

  "Can't I get you something to drink with that?” Tom asked.

  Lucinda shook her head. “I don't want to keep eating these and spoil my appetite.” She reached over for another. “Last one,” she said, smiling.

  "Well, then, I suppose that I'll finish cooking. It should only be a few minutes.” Tom got up and headed for the kitchen, which in this cozy little house was just off the living room, adjacent both to it and to the dining area which was at the very back of the house.

  "Can I help you with anything?"

  "No, thank you, there's not much to do."

  "Well, do you mind if I watch?"

  "Be my guest."

  The kitchen was rather small, making it difficult to accommodate more than one person at a time. Lucinda refrained, wisely in Tom's estimation, from hovering around him and sat down at the table, turning around the chair closest to kitchen, from where she could unobtrusively observe him as he cooked.

  Tom's menu for tonight consisted of boneless chicken breasts sautéed in a mixture of butter and olive oil, after first being sliced thin and dredged not in flour or bread crumbs but in finely crushed cornflakes, a little trick he had learned from Carol. He was preparing it in a white wine, mushroom and garlic sauce and would serve it with wild rice pilaf and assorted vegetables on the side. Tom liked to serve this dish for company because it was fairly simple to prepare yet appeared elegant when served, and because it could be cooked extremely quickly after the guests had arrived, if everything was set up in advance, which it had been: the chicken breasts were arranged on a plate, the mushrooms had been sliced and the garlic had been chopped and were in little bowls, along with a pat of butter and an opened bottle of chardonnay. He had already started the pilaf, and he lifted up the cover of the flat pan to check on it. It was done. Tom fluffed if up with a fork and turned off the gas, replacing the cover. He turned on the burner next to it and began melting the butter, adding a little olive oil so it wouldn't burn. Then he added the pieces of chicken one at a time to the sizzling pan, browning them nicely on one side and the other, then removing them and briefly cooking the mushrooms and the garlic, before adding the wine to deglaze the pan and create a delicate, thin sauce. Finally, he put the chicken back into the pan for a minute or so before turning the entire dish onto a serving platter; the entire process taking only about five minutes or so.

  "Okay, I think we're all ready!” Tom called out congenially, as he placed the finished dishes and the wine on table.

  "Doesn't this look lovely!” exclaimed Lucinda.

  "I just hope it tastes all right,” said Tom modestly. He noticed that Sammy had followed Lucinda into the dining area and was now eyeing the table, poised to leap onto one of the chairs. “I wasn't really expecting Sammy tonight,” Tom said awkwardly. “Will, uh, he be joining us?"

  "Just bring me an extra plate, and a little shallow bowl, if you would.” As she said this, Sammy leaped onto the table next to Lucinda's place setting. “You don't mind, do you?"

  Tom shrugged. “They're you're plates, Lucy.” If you want to let a cat eat off of them, be my guest. I won't have to worry about using them after tonight. Tom opened the kitchen cabinet where the plates were stored and took out a plate and a small soup bowl. “Of course, it's your house, too, technically, or at least it will be at the end of the month.” He forced a smile as he placed Sammy's setting next to Lucinda's, and then he sat down across from her. Tom poured a glass of wine for Lucinda and for himself

  "Just a touch,” said Lucinda referring not to her own glass but to Sammy's bowl.

  Tom poured a few drops for him.

  "Sammy is my baby, and I suppose that he always will be,” said Lucinda, almost apologetically, as the prepared his plate for him before taking her own portion.

  "Cheers,” said Tom, and they all drank.

  "Oh, Tom, this is truly marvelous!” Lucinda exclaimed as she tasted the chicken.

  "Thanks,” Tom answered modestly, “but it's only chicken. It's a combination of two recipes really, one from my mother and the other from Carole."

  "Well then, you must give her my compliments when you speak to her. Oh! I've been so rude! Of course I meant to ask you, how is Carole, anyway? I haven't seen her in weeks.""

  She's well; very well, in fact. She's in New York now, getting the new house together."

  "So, you're finally making the move."

  "Yes, we are, finally."

  "Where did you buy, exactly?"

  "Long Island. A town called Manhasset; it's on the north shore, not too far from where I grew up, actually.” Tom smiled. “It's something I've wanted for a long time. I think that Carole will be very happy there, as well."

  "So you two have everything that you've ever wanted,” said Lucinda, nodding, in the manner of someone well-satisfied with their work. “And I hope that you will have it forever,” she added quietly.

  "Oh, I'm sure that I will."

  "So, you finally believe me, then?” Lucinda's blue eyes flashed. “You believe in my elixir?"

  "I don't know, for sure,” Tom answered honestly. “I do believe thatyou believe in it. Iam fairly confident that my wife is over her illness. As for exactly how, or why, I may never know."

  "Ah!” Lucinda exclaimed mischievously. “There's the kernel of doubt, then!” She grinned. “So much for faith!"

  Tom let this pass; clearly this woman was diametrically opposed to the convictions at the very core of his being, but he had no desire to be drawn into contentious debate with someone whom he quite possible owed such a tremendous debt.

  "Yes,” Lucinda exclaimed after a pause, “this chicken is truly marvelous. You are indeed a man of many talents.” She shook her head. “How ironic, though that you have been so quick to abandon the profession that has been so good to you!” Tom looked at her uncomprehendingly. “Oh, I know how you can afford to take off an entire summer, rent a house on the water, and then go buy another house."

  "How would you know that?"

  Lucinda flashed a playful grin. “Alison the realtor was once Alison the private investigator."

  "I see,” said Tom evenly.

  "Yes, I made sure to find out quite a bit about you, Tom ... about you and Carole.” Lucinda paused, and closed her eyes. “I never learned the whole story of you two, though—how you first met, when you first fell in love, all that."

  "It's not very interesting, really,” said Tom with a shrug.

  "Oh, come on, Tom,” she said admonishingly, “after all that I've shared with you, I would think you would owe me just a little bit in return."

  "There's really nothing to tell,” Tom protested. “I mean, we just ... met."

  "You met at church, I
understand?"

  "Right, and we started going out, and ... well, it just worked out."

  "You knew from the start, both of you?"

  "I think so,” Tom agreed.

  "And it was never anything but smooth sailing, then?” Lucinda said with a smile, casually probing.

  "Pretty much, yes.” Tom paused. “I suppose that there was one little bump in the road, so to speak."

  "Really?” asked Lucinda brightly, as though genuinely intrigued at the prospect of hearing a bit of mild gossip. “Oh yes, right,” she added solicitously, “you mean because of her health."

  "That was part of it,” answered Tom, measuring his words. “In a way it never was an issue for me, not really. In fact, at first, I didn't even realize there was anything wrong with her. Even later, when I saw her at her absolute worst, I never thought any the less of her. I guess that shows I really loved her, right?” He smiled. “No,” he continued, “there was never any question in my mind about her, and I don't think there was ever any question in hers about me.” He paused. “I mean, not howshe thought aboutme , but how she thoughtI felt abouther . She actually told me she once that couldn't believe that I could have fallen in love with her. Crazy, right?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I mean,” he added, arching an eyebrow, “have you ever taken a really good look at her?” Tom made this seemingly off-handed remark with definite purpose. In his eyes, his wife possessed a beauty second to none, and he felt compelled to make this abundantly clear.

  Lucinda nodded. “Still, that's perfectly understandable. I can see how her physical condition could have hurt her confidence."

  "Obviously,” Tom conceded.

  "So that's it, then?” She said, with a touch of mild disappointment as she took a sip of wine. “That was your ‘bump in the road?'” Her vivid blue eyes met Tom's directly. Isn't there any more?

  Tom paused for a moment. He cut a small piece of chicken, speared it with his fork along with a sliced mushroom then carefully dipped this perfect bite in a bit of the sauce before taking it into mouth and savoring it. He took a sip of wine. “Well,” he began finally, “after we had dated for a little while—a couple of months—Carole moved."

  "She moved? You mean, she moved in with you?"

  "No, she moved away, actually, about a hundred and fifty miles up the coast, to a place called Melbourne."

  "Really? That must have been difficult. Long distance relationships rarely succeed. Why would she ever do that?"

  "She had been planning it for a while, from before we met, or at least before we started going out. Her doctor was up there; that was one of the main reasons."

  "How did that ever come to pass?"

  "Well, when she first got sick and decided to move to Florida she lived with a good friend for a couple of months, a girl she knew from New Jersey who had moved there. Also, she had an uncle who had retired there.” Tom sighed. “She really wasn't doing all that well, and it made sense, I suppose, to be closer to some people she knew."

  "Well, what about you, Tom?"

  "Well, you can imagine howI must have felt, then, can't you? I almost lost her. In fact, I guess I did for a little while.” He paused, taken aback at the terrible memory. “I know now that is was my fault, though. I was telling her all the right things, but not really showing her. I took it for granted—her, and how she felt about me.” A diffident little smile creased his face as he added in a soft voice: “She actually broke up with me over the phone ... well, for a couple of days, that is, before she changed her mind. Then, I almost really blew it. I let my pride get the best of me, and I wouldn't return her phone calls. One night, luckily, she caught me. I finally got to the bottom of it. She told me that living with her, with someone in her condition, was too much to ask of anyone. She said didn't want to ruin my life.” Tom chuckled sardonically. “Of course, without her, I didn't have a life to ruin anyway! I mean, I never realized it until I met her, but without her...” He swallowed hard. “Well, I finally made her understand that! You know, when you really love someone, you have to show them, every day, and I thank God every day that I have that chance."

  "You thank God..."

  "That's right,” said Tom in a strong, firm voice. “I haven't lost my faith, Lucy.” He paused, then measured his words carefully: “I do believe in God ... in His Love ... and in our love, mine and Carole's, for one another.” He eyed Lucinda directly. “To me it's all about one thing—love. I'm absolutely certain of this, Lucy, that our love will never change, and will never diminish, no matter what happens."

  No matter what happens—these last words seemed to touch Lucinda deeply. She lowered her eyes, as if dimming the piercing glare of twin high-beam headlights, and they began to moisten.

  "Are you all right, Lucy?"

  Lucinda waved one hand dismissively, while she began to slowly stroke Sammy with the other. “I have chosen very, very well;” she murmured, as much to Sammy as to herself, “or very, very poorly."

  Tom could not make out what she had said, but did not press her to repeat it. Lucinda then changed the subject, asking him a question about the wine, and the balance of the meal was accompanied by further similarly innocuous conversation.

  After they had finished eating, Lucinda reminded Tom that she wanted him to look over her papers, and he suggested that they do so in the living room. Tom, Lucinda, and Sammy walked over to the couch and sat down, Tom and Lucinda on opposite sides, Sammy in Lucinda's lap.

  "Okay, let's see what we have here,” said Tom reaching for the envelope. Inside were a variety of legal documents. Tom started to quickly go through them one at a time, but he soon recognized that there were quite a few, and he returned to the first page of the first document, which bore the title “Declaration of Trust” written in Old English script.

  "I prepared these all by myself,” said Lucinda proudly. “The Internet is truly an amazing resource. Still, I would like them reviewed by someone with a trained legal eye."

  "As I've told you before, Lucy, I'm not a Massachusetts lawyer,” said Tom, without looking up. “Trusts are primarily governed by state law."

  Lucinda chuckled. “You lawyers are all alike,” she said, not bitterly but resignedly, “always so cautious. No, Tom, actually I'm fairly sure that everything is in order; this was just really my way of letting you know what I've done. I've placed all of my assets into an irrevocable,inter vivos , or living trust, with myself as sole trustee and beneficiary. That's legal now in Massachusetts, I checked. Upon my death, the trust will continue for the benefit of my friend Ed Wilson, and upon his death, for the benefit of his issue.” She smiled. “See how well I've picked up the legal lingo? Ed has only the one daughter, Alison, who was recently divorced."

  Tom looked up from the papers.

  "Yes, Tom,” Lucinda confirmed, “that Alison; Alison Kaplan. Anyway, she's about fifty-five now, and she never had any children, so we can safely assume she never will."

  "Actually, the law doesn't make that assumption, even though it would make sense. It's called..."

  "...The fertile octogenarian scenario, a common drafting error that violates the Rule against Perpetuities."

  "I am impressed, Lucy. I can see that you've done some research."

  "In any case, I have used the wordsthen living issue, which complies with the requirements of that rule as it's applied in this state."

  Tom found the exact wording of the provision Lucinda was referring to and read it carefully. “Yes,” he confirmed, nodding, “that looks right."

  "For the rest of his life Ed is to receive whatever income is generated from my investments, from the operations of the tea shop, and from the rent on the beach house, this house. He will have the right to occupy my other house, if he so chooses, but under no circumstances is that property to be rented to anyone else. I've also given him a limited power to invade the trust principal if funds are needed for necessities. After his death, his daughter Alison will receive that income and the same rights."

  "We
ll, that's what it says,” said Tom, following along. “If that's what you want, it's perfectly legal."

  "Ed had been such a dear friend, and I would so much like to make his twilight years a little more comfortable.” She paused. “Perhaps I can make up just a little bit for what I was unable to give him and his wife,” she added, smiling ruefully. “Now,” Lucinda continued, “upon her death, the trust will terminate, and the assets will be finally distributed, to the person whom I have also designated to serve as successor-trustee followingmy death.” She paused, as Tom flipped through some standard boilerplate to find the relevant provision. The look on his face made it obvious when he had.

  "You're renamingme as your successor-trustee?"

  "I have no doubt that you're perfectly capable of handling whatever is required, or of finding someone who is."