Jeffrey leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I hate to bring this up when you’ve already got so much on your plate, but unfortunately it’s necessary.”
Margaret left the folder lying on the coffee table. “I’ve already seen Albert’s will, and I know he left everything to me. I can’t see why there’d be any questions.”
“The issue is not about the estate passing to you. It’s about subsequent distribution. Albert’s will did not have a per stirpes clause and without—”
“I don’t understand. Distribution of what?”
“Everything. The entire estate, including his shares in McCutcheon and Schoenfeld.”
With what she could almost believe to be a genuine look of concern, he reached across and touched her hand.
“Albert’s will was drawn up in 1941, and, yes, he left everything to you, but he never updated that will so there is no directive regarding further distribution. Without having a per stirpes clause that directs distribution upon your demise, the entire estate could default to the state of Georgia.”
Margaret’s throat tightened. She’d barely come to grips with Albert’s death, and now she was being forced to think about her own.
“That’s crazy.”
“Don’t worry,” he said in a less lawyerly tone. “There’s an easy fix to prevent this from happening. Our office can file the paperwork transferring all of Albert’s assets so they’re registered under your name. Then we can liquidate anything you want to turn into cash and draw up a will designating the beneficiary to inherit your estate.”
Margaret turned away, looking first at the ceiling then toward the window that faced out onto Pine Street. In all the years she and Albert had been together, they’d never spoken of things like death and distribution. They’d talked of planning for the future, but it was always about the things they’d do, the places they’d go, the wonderful adventures they’d have once he retired. Now with him gone and her heart already shattered into pieces, she was being asked to dispose of the estate he’d spent a lifetime building.
Just then she heard the front door click open and close.
Josie.
Jeffrey sat waiting for her answer, and in the quiet of that moment she could hear the heartbeat of the house. It was as sorrowful as she was.
“There’s no one to leave it to,” she said tearfully. “No family; no beneficiary.”
“Surely there’s somebody. A distant relative? Someone on Albert’s side of the family?”
She shook her head. “Albert was an only child as was his father. Both of his parents are long gone; so are mine.”
“What about you? Any siblings? Sisters, brothers, cousins maybe?”
Again, Margaret shook her head.
“At one time there were nine of us,” she said, her voice quavering, “but after all these years… I know for certain Mama and Louella are dead. I don’t know where the others are; I lost track of them a long time ago.”
“Lost track?” Jeffrey’s face was pulled into the same expression Albert wore when something puzzled him.
As Jeffrey rattled on about the need for a beneficiary, Margaret spied Josie, a dark-skinned figure wearing a simple cotton housedress, passing through the foyer. Catching her eye, Margaret nodded.
A nod or a wink was all they needed. The two women had been together for over 30 years, and they understood each other in a way that only the closest of friends could. In the weeks following Margaret’s miscarriages, Albert had gone off to work and Josie had been the one to sit beside her as she gave way to tears. When she’d spoken about the excruciating pain of losing a child and the heartbreak of a lost family, Josie listened without judgment. In those dark days Margaret told her things she’d never even told Albert, and for all those years Josie had held tight to her secrets. There was a time when having an outsider know what had happened to her family would have left Margaret feeling ashamed, but with Josie it somehow seemed okay.
Breaking through her thoughts Jeffrey asked, “This estrangement, was it your choice or did they—”
“It wasn’t a choice. It just happened. Not because we didn’t love one another, but… After Daddy disappeared, we had to leave Barrettsville and each go our own way. Things were different back then, jobs scarcer, money harder to come by…”
Her thoughts drifted back to the two years in Barrettsville: the big house sitting all alone at the far end of Second Street; the room she shared with Louella and Nellie, all three of them in one bed; their window overlooking a weeded lot where in the early months of summer dancing fireflies made it seem like a fairyland. How many times had she and Louella fallen asleep at the window trying to count those fireflies with both of them wishing the magic of the moment would go on forever?
She hadn’t wanted to leave Barrettsville. None of them did, but Mama said they had no choice. As the train chugged westward, heading home to West Virginia, she’d clung to Dewey and pleaded with him to make the train go back.
“I wish we could go back too,” he said. “But we can’t.”
Hearing that, she’d sobbed all the harder. He wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close, and said, “Don’t waste tears on something you can’t have, Maggie. Once something is left behind, it’s gone for good. Even if you go back, it’s never gonna be the same.”
“Regardless of what the situation was back then,” Jeffrey said, “don’t you want to at least try to locate your siblings or their descendants? It’s a sizable estate, and if you don’t do something…”
She thought of Dewey and the last time she’d seen her big brother. He’d kissed her cheek, promised to write, and disappeared into the train station. She’d never seen or heard from him again. Almost two years later she married Albert.
With sadness tugging at her heart, she shook her head. “It’s a lovely idea, but I doubt it’s possible. Sometimes we have to accept that the past belongs to the past and leave it that way.”
“Do as you will,” he said and stood. “But at least consider my buyout offer. Cash on hand is always a good option. Once you decide that, then we can figure out how to handle the remainder of the estate. If there’s no family, you might want to designate a worthwhile charity as your beneficiary. Perhaps an organization Albert had an interest in; his alma mater maybe? William and Mary, wasn’t it?”
Margaret nodded. “Yes, it was. I’ll keep it in mind.”
She followed Jeffrey to the door, thanked him for coming, then promised to get back to him as soon as she’d had time to process her thoughts.
“The sooner the better,” he said. “And when you have a moment, if you could look through Albert’s things and make sure he didn’t leave any files here at home I’d appreciate it. They’re the ones in the green folders.”
Margaret noticed how he’d mentioned the buyout a second and then third time. He seemed more worried about the firm than her. Why was he so eager to move things along? Why couldn’t he just let her grieve in peace?
If You Never Try…
MARGARET STOOD AT THE WINDOW watching Jeffrey back out of the driveway. After he was gone from sight, she turned and headed back to the kitchen. Josie was just pulling a tray of cinnamon biscuits from the oven.