“Mm, that smells good,” she said.
“You looked like you were having a stressful time in there,” Josie said, “so I figured you could use something sweet to take the edge off.”
“You figured right,” Margaret said. “Jeffrey Schoenfeld has never been one of my favorite people. And now with Albert gone, I feel as though he’s pushing me to do something I’m uncertain about.”
Josie took two mugs from the cupboard and set them on the table. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet. I’d barely finished dressing when he rang the bell. If I had known he was coming I might have been ready to…” Margaret dropped down into the chair, whooshed out a long and weary-sounding exhale, then continued, “talk about what happens to Albert’s estate when I die.”
Josie turned, her eyes wide. “When you die? Is there something—”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that. He’s talking about some time in the future, whenever it may be.”
“Way in the future, I hope.” Josie poured the coffee and sat opposite Margaret.
“I hope so too.” Margaret tried to make it sound lighthearted, but the thought of how suddenly Albert had gone was in her head. “I guess we never know. The day before Albert died, he was talking about us taking a trip to Europe next summer.”
“That doesn’t mean you’ll—”
“Of course not, but it does make me think about how suddenly something like that can happen, and, as Jeffrey said, I need to be prepared for the eventuality of it.”
“In time maybe, but right now what you need to do is have some breakfast and stop fretting about stuff you can’t fix. How about I scramble up some eggs?”
“No, thanks, the biscuit’s enough. What I find awful about all of this is that Jeffrey seems so anxious to get on with business. He’s even asked me to clean out Albert’s office. I guess he’s forgotten Albert hired him, because now he acts like he’s the boss.”
Josie patted her hand, and Margaret covered it with her own. “Truly, Josie, I don’t know what I would do here without you.”
“You wouldn’t have breakfast, that’s what. You need to eat something more than one little bitty biscuit. How about oatmeal? I could fix it with raisins and cinnam—”
“No oatmeal.”
The longer Margaret thought about it, the more Jeffrey’s request to go through Albert’s office needled at her. Albert had spent a lifetime building the law firm and had made Jeffrey partner. Was Jeffrey worried she’d find a way to challenge his stake in the company now that Albert was gone?
Impossible, she thought, remembering how much Albert trusted him. He just wants to get through all the formalities. Maybe… I wonder if Albert had paperwork on a beneficiary and just forgot to file it.
“The sooner I clean out Albert’s office, the faster Jeffrey will leave me alone,” she said, thinking out loud.
“If there’s any way I can help—”
Margaret shook her head. “Thanks, Josie, but it’s something I have to do myself. Crazy as it might sound, it’s like saying one last goodbye. When I’m in there, it’s as if I can feel Albert’s presence.”
“Well, then, if you’ve no need of me, I’m going to sweep the walkway and clean up those potted plants on the front porch.”
——————
MARGARET PUSHED OPEN THE DOOR to Albert’s office and stood there breathing in the scent of him. In time it would fade, but for now it was still here in the leather-bound books that ran end to end across the bookshelf and the stacks of papers and magazines lying about. For a moment she closed her eyes and saw him sitting behind the desk, his eyeglasses low on his nose and a ribbon of cigar smoke circling his head. She spoke to him just as she had the past few nights. With her face tilted toward the sky, she whispered, “Please Albert, help me to get through all of this.”
She crossed the room and lowered herself into his desk chair. Countless times she’d visited Albert in here, but she’d always been in front of the desk. Sitting there in his seat, the desk seemed somehow bigger than she remembered, more intimidating, the drawers deeper, the handles heavier, scaled to fit a larger hand. Albert’s, not hers. For several minutes, she remained frozen in place. Then she leaned forward, dropped her head onto the desk, and began to cry.
There was no way of knowing how long she remained there, but when she finally opened her eyes she saw a shiny brass object through a blur of tears. Raising her head, she lifted the paperweight. It had been a gift from his father, and Albert had kept it on his desk for as long as she could remember. The engraving on the top was worn and scratched, but still readable: “IF YOU NEVER TRY, YOU WILL NEVER SUCCEED.”
Margaret brushed back the tears and sat up. Was that message only for Albert, or was it meant for her also? He’d tackled his challenges head on and succeeded. Was he trying to tell her she could do the same?
Placing the brass paperweight in the center of the desk, Margaret took a deep breath and pulled open the bottom right-hand drawer.
The drawer was stuffed with file folders, and even though they appeared to be client files none of the folders were green. Checking the dates on the top pages of each folder, she saw they were old, outdated. After she had emptied out that drawer, she moved on to the top drawer.
Folded scraps of paper and telephone message notes lay scattered about the top, and underneath Margaret found a box of cigars, two broken lighters, and matchbooks from a dozen different restaurants. Most were places where they’d dined together, but in the past she’d seen Albert jot a name and telephone number on the inside cover. She read each matchbook, remembering times when they’d shared a bottle of wine at one place or dined in a cozy booth at another. With stopping to revisit the special significance of one thing and another, then twice giving way to a flood of tears, it was late in the afternoon before she finished clearing the first two drawers.
She had just wiped the tears from her eyes when Josie looked in the office.
“I’ll be leaving soon,” she said. “I made a beef stew and left it on the stove. Make sure you eat. It’s not healthy to be skipping meals. You’ll end up sick for sure.”
Margaret forced a smile. “I’m fine. Honestly.”
Josie eyed her suspiciously. “I don’t know. Your throat sounds scratchy, and you don’t look so good. Maybe I’d better stay to make sure—”
“Go home. You’ve got a family to take care of. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, if you’re sure…”
Josie started out, then hollered back, “Don’t forget to eat, and call me if you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine.
Once Josie was gone, Margaret sat there studying the paperweight. She’d seen Albert do the same thing any number of times, holding it in his hands, tracing a finger across the engraving, almost as though he expected the words to magically change into whatever answer he was looking for. She closed her eyes and pictured him sitting at the desk. The look on his face wasn’t confusion, it was determination. He wasn’t looking for an answer; he was renewing his commitment to this one.