Long Memory (7 page)

“Hello, son.”

“Hello, Mother.”

“You make it to your grandmother’s?”

“Yes, I did.”

“What do you think of that freeloader living in her basement?”

James looked at the closed bedroom door. Beth was in the kitchen with Nonie and Jean while Jean tried to gather more information about the guy who’d had the heart attack. While looking up numbers for Jean, Beth had to keep Nonie from blowing her nose too much or she would dislodge the scabs inside her sinuses. In between, Beth was preparing a light meal for them to eat later. She was working pretty hard for a freeloader. “What is the story on her?”

“She was one of your grandmother’s students years ago, and after your grandfather died, your grandmother invited her to live in the basement during her first year of teaching. She just never left. Sounds like a sweet deal to me.”

James kept staring at the door. If you considered being on call twenty-four-seven sweet. “So she’s lived here about ten years?”

“Closer to fifteen.”

“And what’s this about power of attorney?”

“That woman wants to get her hands on your grandmother’s money. She wants to be able to sign checks for her. She would have the right to do anything she wanted with your grandmother’s property. Do you know what her house alone is worth?” Mom was building up a good head of steam.

“Mom, I know what a power of attorney is for. Why does she need it?”

“She claims she has to write checks for medical expenses, but that all comes out of your grandmother’s pension.”

“What about co-pays?” James wished he had a notepad to keep track of details on.

“I guess they’re doing that in cash. I don’t know. What? Are you on her side?” she snapped.

“Mom, I’m not on anybody’s side.”

“But she asked you about it.”

“Yes, she asked me about it.”

“I knew it. I knew it. I told you not to go there. I told you, you should come to Arizona and visit me.”

“Mom, you said you never wanted to see me again after you lost money with Mark.” James started picking a loose thread on the bed covering. Two thousand miles wasn’t quite enough some days. Not when there were phones. It must have been great in the old days when you had to send a letter by stagecoach and the only thing the person on the other end could do was write back.

“I was angry. You could have told your own mother that real estate was a con before you told the whole world.”

“Mom, if I told you, you would have sold your shares to someone else’s mother and she would have lost money. I knew you could handle the hit.”

“Why should I have to?”

James sighed. He seemed to remember having this exact same conversation a few times before. “It’s an investment, Mom. It carries risk. If I had told you, we would probably both be in trouble for insider trading anyway. You know what insider trading is, don’t you, Mom? That could mean jail time. I didn’t want you to end up in jail. Besides, I lost money too.”

“It just doesn’t seem fair.”

“I understand that, Mom.” James groaned silently. She wondered why he hadn’t come to Arizona? Being asked who he was thirty-five times a day was much better than the constant flow of recrimination. “I need to know what’s going on here. When I got here, she nearly had me arrested.”

“She can’t do that.”

“Mom, stay with me here. There was just some confusion because she wasn’t expecting me.”

“There was no need for me to tell her. It’s not her house. She has no right.”

James put his hand over his face. “Mom, she’s taking care of Nonie and Aunt Jean.”

“I know. Your Aunt Jean gave her power of attorney years ago. She must be out of her mind. That woman is going to steal both of them blind.”

James looked around the room for a handy wall to bang his head on. “Mom, Nonie is really bad now. She can’t remember anything for more than five minutes.”

“Oh, honey, it’s not that bad. I’ve seen your grandmother. She’s just a little absentminded.”

“She doesn’t know who I am.”

“She just doesn’t recognize you.”

“No, Mom. Beth tells her who I am and five minutes later she asks who I am again.”

“It’s probably that woman then. She’s confusing your grandmother.”

“No, Mom, Nonie comes out of the box that way.”

“I can’t believe you’re siding with that—that woman against me. She’s going to steal your inheritance, you know.” His mother started to choke up. “You should ask her why she doesn’t have an inheritance of her own. Why she doesn’t have her own grandparents to take care of.”

“Mom, don’t cry.”

His mother sobbed into the phone. “She’s going to steal you from me too.”

“Mom, nobody is stealing anyone.”

“First, she took my mother and my aunt, now she’s going to steal my son too.”

“Mom.” James ran a hand through his hair. This was the other reason he didn’t like to visit her. She turned on the waterworks and made him feel guilty. “Come on, calm down. I’ll see what I can do, okay? Maybe I can find a way to get her out of here.”

“Do you think you could?”

No. “I’ll try, Mom.”

“You are such a good boy.” His mother sniffled. “You take care of your family.”

James muttered something that sounded assuring. Take care of his family? He didn’t even know how. His parents divorced when he was five, and he hadn’t seen his dad since. His mother remarried when he was twelve and sent him to boarding school. He didn’t even miss husband number two because he saw him so rarely. Until high school, he’d spent summers here. He didn’t belong anywhere. Not the way they did. Disentangling himself from the conversation with his mother, he finally hung up.

In the kitchen, Beth was putting something in the refrigerator. “Jean, I have dinner on the top shelf for you. Sandwiches, baby carrots and salads. Is that going to be enough?”

“Where is the salad dressing?”

“In the door.”

James cleared his throat. When they all turned to him, he didn’t know what to say. Aunt Jean still had the phone in front of her and the phone book open beside her. Nonie sat with an untouched cup of coffee. Beth closed the refrigerator door.

“I guess I’ll be going downstairs then,” Beth announced. “If you need me, you know what to do.”

“Good night dear. Let me know if you find out anything about John,” Jean said.

“I will.” Beth walked down the hall to the garage and opened the door leading to the basement. So she could get into Nonie’s house without having to go outside. Did that door lock? Mom had sounded paranoid on the phone, but maybe she wasn’t. At least not entirely.

“What do you want, James?” Jean asked. She had turned toward him, but he wasn’t sure how well she could see him. “Don’t dawdle in doorways. Spit it out. You’ve been talking to your mother.”

“Why doesn’t Beth live with her own family?” It wasn’t the first question he wanted to ask, but it would do.

“They’re all dead. Alcoholics to a man. And woman. The Wilson family was well known around here at one time. They were all trouble. Lazy, shiftless. Beth’s the only one who was ever worth a damn. That’s why Vi and I decided we needed to help her.” Aunt Jean pounded on the table. “Beth Wilson is a wonderful girl, and your mother can’t stand it.”

“Okay, okay.” James sat down at the table. “I’m not completely blind to my mother’s faults, but she might have a point. Does Beth have your general power of attorney or specific?”

“General. She doesn’t abuse it. Most of the time she makes me sign my own checks. She just keeps track of everything for me.” Aunt Jean leaned forward. “You can look at all my finances.”

“I’ll look at them.” James sat back. Somewhere between his mother and his great-aunt was the real Beth Wilson. He wanted to believe he needed to find her to protect his grandmother, but he knew that was only part of the truth.

Chapter 5

Beth opened the door to Nonie’s kitchen. Nonie sat in her chair at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee while James manned the toaster. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” James peered into the toaster.

“Nonie, did you brush your teeth?” Beth asked.

“Teeth brushed, deodorant on, hair done,” James answered.

On closer inspection, Beth noted that Nonie’s hair was done more evenly than Nonie normally managed. “Did you help?”

“I did, but she did most of it herself.”

“She’s supposed to eat fiber cereal in the morning.”

“Really? Nonie, you need to eat your cereal,” James said.

“Cereal? That’s right. I forgot.” Nonie stood up and got a bowl, a spoon and the box of cereal and took them back to the table. Then she stood looking at the collection for a minute. James opened his mouth to remind her, but Beth put her hand on his arm. A moment later, Nonie went to the refrigerator and located the milk.

“She can have some toast, right?” James asked.

“Yes. She needs to take her pills too.”

“They’re out on the table. I figured I would give them to her with breakfast.” James took toast out of the toaster and dropped in two more slices. “The apple butter thawed the rest of the way out overnight. You want some?”

“No thanks, I already ate.” Beth shifted. Mornings usually took longer than this. Nonie had to be gotten up and nudged through her morning routine. Then Jean would arrive and there was another routine to get through. Once they were both ensconced in their chairs, either in the living room in the winter or on the porch in the summer, Beth could go about her day. James taking care of Nonie opened a large block of time in her schedule. She could work in the garden. Or read a book. Or start having something resembling a life. She shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, I guess I’ll go downstairs. Call me if you need me.”

“No worries. I can take care of Nonie and Aunt Jean.”

Beth drew a deep breath. That was right. He
could
take care of Nonie and Jean. She could relax. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No.” Beth watched Nonie eating her cereal. “It’s more than nothing.”

* * * *

Three hours later, Beth chased him halfway across the lawn, shaking with rage. “I don’t believe this. You really are going to check up on me. You are auditing me.”

James shifted the black plastic box Beth kept all of Jean’s papers in to the other hand. He’d gotten it last night after Aunt Jean insisted. The thought of auditing Beth’s activities with Aunt Jean’s general POA had hung in the back of his mind from the moment he heard about it, but once Aunt Jean threw down the gauntlet he felt dirty for even considering it. Beth worked very hard. He’d walked in her shoes. Not quite a mile, but he had gotten Nonie to bed last night and up again this morning. It was like dealing with a two-year-old, and he’d never been around children much.

“And one of the clasps on that is broken. You’re lucky you haven’t spilled it all over the yard. Hold it with both hands,” Beth snapped.

James lifted the box between his hands. “Aunt Jean told me to.” He stopped short of claiming that he didn’t want to. It sounded childish.

“After you asked, no doubt.”

“No, after about two hours of her saying ‘the proof is in the pudding. Go get my records and you look at them.’” James clenched his jaw. He could fight her on this, but he didn’t want to. “There is nothing wrong with independent oversight.”

“Even the IRS warns you before they start digging through your paperwork.”

“And what would you have done if I’d told you last night what she wanted me to do?”

Beth pursed her lips. On any other woman it would have been ugly, but on her it reminded him of the natural shape of her mouth. After spending half the night studying the neat shapes of her numbers, he didn’t want to be thinking about the neat shape of the rest of her this morning.

“Fine,” she snapped. “What did your sneaky little audit uncover? Am I embezzling millions?”

James coughed. As if auditing her wasn’t bad enough. “Nothing serious. You transposed a couple of numbers on her tax return two years ago, but the difference was change. If the IRS had come after the mistake, they would have spent more on postage than the original error.”