Twenty-seven
1998 was a tough year for us. I was approaching my 80th birthday and slowing down fast. Blanche was a few years shy of her 60th and doing just fine. I don't know what I would have done without her. She was the reason I was able to work as long as I did. She basically handled everything; I was just along for the ride.
Blanche was also raising Grace's children by herself. Grace started out disappearing for days at a time. Blanche had Shawn and Rochelle start riding the bus to my house when she realized she just couldn't count on Grace being home in the afternoons. I was happy for them to be there. I'd learned long ago to enjoy a full house.
Eventually, Grace was gone for good, or at least for several years. She didn't leave a note, but word got out to Blanche that she'd run off with a known drug dealer and pimp. We both began to tire easily.
Once again, we dropped out of the various clubs and charitable organizations to which we now both belonged, and this time it was for good.
I knew I was not going to live forever and, even though Walter had made many plans of his own, I hadn't really done all the planning I should have in anticipation of my own mortality.
I had no heirs, no one to take over Walter's business or care about my personal effects. I sat for hours on end, rocking on the front porch, wondering what in the world I would do.
Patrice was an attorney by then and worked for a firm near the courthouse. They did mostly criminal law, and Patrice did quite a bit of pro bono work in the community on her own time. She stopped by my house fairly often. I knew she was really coming to see Blanche, but she spent time with me, too, and I enjoyed seeing and talking with her.
On one of her visits - it was early spring, I remember, because the flowers were blooming but it was still cool enough to enjoy the porch. Anyway, on one of her visits, Patrice brought up the subject of the Pecan Man.
“I saw Eddie last week, Miz Ora," Patrice said. “He said to tell you hello."
“Eddie," I said fondly. “How is he doing?"
“He's getting old and frail, but he says he's doing fine. I left him playing a rousing game of dominoes the other day. He keeps the young guys on their toes, I can tell you that."
“I think I always underestimated the man," I admitted.
Patrice laughed. “I don't think you were the only one who underestimated him. I've learned quite a bit about him lately."
“Do you go out to see him often?"
“Not as much as I would like, but I try to stop in when I have to make a trip to the prison, or when Mama bakes him some cookies. I'm the most popular attorney out there."
“I'll just bet you are," I laughed.
“I've been thinking of reopening Eddie's case." Patrice dropped that bombshell like it was just another batch of cookies and, Lord help me, it was as if someone had touched me with a cattle prod. My skin tingled with the shock for several minutes and I had trouble gathering my thoughts to respond. If Patrice noticed, she didn't let on.
“Something just bothers me about the whole thing. He won't talk about it, but I read through the file and something doesn't add up. I don't think he killed anyone, do you?"
“Well, no," I fumbled for words. “I've never thought he killed a soul, but he entered a guilty plea. Can you reopen a case that's closed like that?"
“Not officially, no," she admitted, “but I can do some digging and see what I turn up."
And, just like that, the lie that never ends cropped up yet again. I bit my tongue until I thought it would actually bleed.
“Does Eddie want you to do this?"
“I haven't asked him yet. I thought I would ask around and see what I come up with first."
“Patrice," I said finally, “I know you mean well, but I think you should ask Eddie if he wants you to do this before you go stirring up a pot that settled years ago."
“I'll ask him," she said.
“I promise I'll ask him," she repeated when she saw my dubious expression. “But, will you just tell me what you know about it? I know you had him to dinner that day; I remember spending Thanksgiving at your house and he was there. It was the day before Marcus died."
“I really just don't want to talk about it, hon," I said. “I'm sorry, but it was an awful time and we've all suffered enough."
“But if you could just..."
“Patrice!"
She flinched as if I’d slapped her.
“You ask Eddie first," I continued. “If he agrees, I'll tell you what I remember. Otherwise I think it's best that we let sleeping dogs lie."
“Okay," she said softly. “I meant no harm, but - okay. I'll ask him first."
I knew she was upset that I yelled at her, and Lord knows she was confused, but I knew better than to even try to remember all the lies I told so many years ago.
“I've been thinking about my will," I said, abruptly changing the subject. “Do you do any estate law at all?"
“Goodness," she said. “No, I don't, but there are some great attorneys in the area if you want me to recommend someone."
“No, that's okay. Howard Hunnicutt has been handling our stuff for years. I'll just get him to dust the paperwork off and see where we are. I wonder, though..."
“Wonder what?" Patrice asked when I hesitated.
“If you would mind being the Executor of the estate." I finished.
“I don't mind at all. Anything you want to go over with me, so I'll be sure to get it right?"
“A few things, maybe," I said. “I'm not positive what I'm planning on doing, but I'd like to get your opinion on some ideas I have - if you have time, that is."
Blanche interrupted then, bringing us each a glass of sweet tea and taking a seat in one of the rockers herself. She looked tired and drawn and I couldn’t help but comment on it.
“You feeling all right, Blanche? You’re looking a little peaked today.”
“Just a little tired, tha’s all. Ain’t been sleepin’ good lately.”
“When’s the last time you had a checkup?”
“I had my yearly,” she said vaguely.
Blanche was not big on doctors, though I had convinced her a few years back that she’d best take care of her health if she was going to be raising grandchildren from now on. I had enrolled Blanche and her family in our company health plan when I first went back to work. Don’t ask why I hadn’t done it when Walter was alive or why he hadn’t suggested it, either. I just don’t have an answer.
“That’s not the kind of checkup I was talking about.”
“I don’t see the point. He’s jus’ go’n tell me to lose weight.”
Well, I knew better than to go down that road, so I just let the issue drop.
We stayed on the porch for a little while longer, enjoying the cool breeze and watching the occasional passing car.
When Patrice and I finally sat down to discuss the will weeks later, I had formulated a plan of sorts, but I wanted Patrice's thoughts on the whole thing. We talked at length about the details and, when we were done, I felt confident of the decisions I made.
Howard put me in touch with a good business broker and the insurance agency was sold within a month. I was surprised at the bottom line on the income from the sale, but Howard was not. We followed Walter's lead on a good bit of the estate planning, but we made a few changes. We increased the coffers of the scholarship fund quite a bit and set up another charitable remainder trust to offset the taxes on the sale.
What Patrice did not know about my will was that I planned to leave my house to Blanche for as long as she was alive. She probably spent as much time at this house as she had at her own, and I was certain it felt like home to her. After that, it would be sold and the proceeds sent to the scholarship fund, which Patrice had agreed to run after my death or when I could no longer handle my affairs. That was a huge load off my mind. Of course, she would now know how her own education had been funded, but I suspect she knew it all along anyway.
There was a monthly stipend earmarked for each of the twins. They were successful in their own right, but what I set out for them would make their lives a little more comfortable and it made me feel good to know that.
Grace's children would be able to attend the college of their choice. They were good kids, good students. I wanted to make sure nothing would stand in their way. Blanche would always have income, a retirement plan of sorts - enough for herself and enough to take care of Shawn and Rochelle.
As much as it tore my heart out, I did not leave anything for Grace. If we could even find her, the money would only go to drugs. I resigned myself to knowing we had already lost her. We lost her long, long ago and we were partially to blame.