The Ladies' Room (4 page)

"Will you get on with it? I want a slice of that sour-cream
pound cake before it's all gone," Marty said impatiently.

"It won't take long," the lawyer repeated. Then he began
reading aloud. "Hello, you three girls. This is my letter to you,
and if Steven is reading it, then I'm dead. It'll be over soon,
and you can all go home, and two of you can rejoice that you
don't have to deal with my house and all its contents."

Billy Lee chuckled for the first time all day.

Marty shot him and me both one of her famous "drop dead"
looks.

I fired one right back at her and eased down gently into a kiddy-sized chair and hoped it didn't fold with me. Surprisingly enough, it was sturdier than it looked.

Steven McRae went on. "First of all, I chose this room
because it's where I taught Sunday school for the past sixty
years. Not that it makes a bit of difference, but even as I write
this, I can hear Marty whining and Betsy refusing to sit in
one of the little chairs.

"You've all three been named after me, so I couldn't decide
to leave my belongings simply to the one who had my name. I
dislike all three of you, but I have to be honest and say that
I dislike Trudy the least. At least she doesn't hide from me in
the grocery store, so I'm leaving it all to her. Lock, stock, and
barrel. Makes it right simple. If she's of a mind to give you
other two a piece of my jewelry or a keepsake, then she can
do it with my blessings. If not, then so be it. Go home and
pout. I really don't care.
... .. . . . . . . . . . . . ...

"And it is signed, notarized, and witnessed, so it is legal,"
Steven McRae concluded. "Mrs. Williams, this file contains
your copy of her will and all her financial records. If you
have any questions, she has paid my firm a retaining fee for the
next thirty days to render any help you need, so feel free to
call"

"Thank God. Let's go home, Betsy," Marty said.

Betsy shot me another hateful look. "Good luck."

..You are welcome to have anything you want." The whole
time I was making the offer, I was wondering if Aunt Gert
still kept arsenic under the kitchen sink to kill field rats.

"I wouldn't be caught taking out the garbage in any of that
dime-store jewelry," Marty said.

"I don't want a single thing. You need me to sign anything
to make that legal?" Betsy said.

Mr. McRae headed toward the door. "No, that's between
you and Mrs. Williams"

"Then, Trudy, get this straight. We don't want anything, but
by the same token we don't want you to be callin' on us to
help clean out that junky place," Betsy said.

They were hurrying to the door when I said, "I won't ask either of you for help. You've done enough already. And thank
you, Mr. McRae"

Billy Lee had a big grin on his face, and his eyes twinkled.
Why was he so amused now? Minutes before, he had been bewailing the fact that there was too much merriment going on
in the fellowship hall, suggesting that everyone in Johnston
County should be tearing at their hair and gathering ashes to
put on their sackcloth clothing because Aunt Gert had died.

"So what are you going to do with the old place?" Billy
asked.

I made the decision. "I'm going to live there"

I now owned a piece of property in Tishomingo, Oklahoma,
lock, stock, and barrel. A two-story house with peeling paint,
a sagging front porch, no air-conditioning, and an odd nextdoor neighbor.

His face registered pure shock. "Is Drew moving in with
you?"

"No, he is not. But I suppose I'll be seeing you, since we'll
be neighbors."

"Probably so." He grinned.

I walked through the fellowship hall, ignored Betsy when
she called out my name, and continued right out the door
without a backward glance. She didn't follow, but I hurried to
my car in case she changed her mind. Twenty years of marriage had just burned to the ground. Sadness, weeping, anger,
and pain were all rolled into one big unhealthy ball of raw
nerves.

I could stay with Drew. That was an option and the easiest
one. After all, it wasn't a new thing he'd done. But I couldn't!
My pride was already in ashes. Staying would push my dignity right down there among them.

I drove slowly because there were little red dots flashing in
front of my eyes. I didn't know if severe anger could produce
a heart attack or a stroke, and there were things I had to do
before I dropped dead. I pulled up in the yard and stared at the
sprawling ranch-style house. It had been my home for more
than twenty years, and I'd raised Crystal there. How could I
entertain notions of leaving it?

I got out of the Impala, opened the front door of the house,
and headed down the hallway to the master suite. I opened my
closet and pulled the biggest suitcase I owned from the top
shelf, then stood there in front of the rack of clothing while
tears dripped from my cheeks onto the lapels of my black
jacket.

What did I take, and what did I leave behind? I couldn't
decide, but I was hungry, so I went to the kitchen, made myself a banana and strawberry smoothie, and hit the message
button on the phone. Betsy wanted to know why I'd been so
rude at the dinner. Marty said that she should come over to
my house and kick my butt for being so hateful at a funeral.
Drew called to say he'd be staying another day on his trip.

I took one sip of the smoothie, and it tasted horrible. I set it
on the counter and peeled out of my skirt right there in the
kitchen, leaving it in a pile on the floor. Just that meager act of
rebellion gave me courage to keep going.

Next the ruined panty hose came off. I removed my wide
gold wedding band, tied it to the leg with the big hole, and
carried it back to the bedroom. I stood on the bed and looped
the hose around a blade on the ceiling fan. I hoped Drew
would flip on the light switch and the thing would knock him
upside the head. I took off my jacket and threw it onto the
floor and slung my hat against the far wall. When Drew came
home, he could find the first mess in his house since we'd
married. Good little wives kept a nice, clean home for their
husbands. They kept his shirts ironed perfectly. They had his
dinner on the table.

Apparently good little husbands cheated, and everyone in
Tishomingo knew about it. Except his wife. Okay, so a few
times I'd wondered about a phone call or when Drew worked
late, but didn't all women?

Thinking about all those shirts I'd ironed and he'd worn
while he flirted with other women infuriated me. I went through
his closet like a wild woman, jerking them all off the hangers,
wadding them up into tight little balls, and throwing them at
the walls. Then I stripped the closet of his suits and slung
them down the hall. After that I threw myself down onto the bed and watched my wedding ring make lazy circles around
and around.

I'd take nothing out of the house. There was precious little
of me in the place, anyway. I looked at the clock: one thirty.
Could it really have only been three hours ago that I was wiggling around in a pew? If I could go back and live in blissful
ignorance, would I? No, I would not! I should have been told
years ago, and my cousins should have been the ones to tell me.

I opened the closet doors again. Wouldn't it be a hoot if
I showed up in public in overalls? I didn't own overalls, but I
could improvise. I chose a pair of faded denim Capri pants
I wore to work in the flower beds, and a bright yellow shirt
with a hole in one sleeve and a spaghetti stain right on the front.
I picked out green rubber flip-flops and tied my hair back with
a red and white University of Oklahoma bandanna. I was tempted
to draw freckles across my nose with an eyebrow pencil and tie
my hair up in pigtails but figured someone might call in the
boys in the white jackets to carry me off to a mental institution if I went that far. I checked my reflection in the mirror
and was content with the effect. Between my showing up in
town looking like a bag lady and his losing enough money to
buy more fancy cars for his bimbos, Drew should come close
to having full-fledged cardiac arrest. I hoped he didn't die instantly but was fully awake when they socked those electric
paddles onto his chest.

I picked up my purse, walked out the front door, and took a
long look at all I was leaving behind. Then I slammed the door
hard enough to rattle the windowpanes and didn't even look
back. In ten minutes I was at the bank, standing in Charity's
teller line. She was a pretty little thing. Not even old enough
to get into a bar without an ID. Blond hair cut in one of those
multilayered styles that was shorter in the back and framed
her delicate face. Neither cellulite nor gravity had attacked her
body, and every inch looked firm and taut. Did she iron shirts
and make two meals a day? She'd better learn if she didn't,
because Drew Williams didn't pay for a maid or a cook.

"And what can I do for you today?" she asked when I
reached her.

"Would you please check the total amount in my family's
savings account?" I was proud of myself for not grabbing a
handful of that blond hair and jerking her through the opening
in the teller station. It wouldn't be difficult to send her sailing
through the plate-glass front window like a giant Frisbee.

"Your account number, please."

I told her, and she poked a few buttons, then sucked air for
a few seconds before she looked up at me again.

"Mrs. Drew Williams? Do you have identification?"

I flipped open my wallet and presented my bank card. "Right
here. How much is in that account?"

"Fifty thousand, four dollars, and twelve cents," she said.

"I'll be withdrawing all but the twelve cents right now"

"But, but ... oh, dear. I'll have to make a phone call." She
reached for the phone.

I slapped my hand onto hers and looked her right in the eye.
"I want a cashier's check for fifty thousand, four dollars. And
then you'll see what's in my joint checking account. I want to
withdraw all of it except thirteen cents. Do you understand
me, Charity?"

"I think you'd better talk to the bank president. I can't authorize such a large withdrawal."

I yelled at the teller all the way at the other end of the row.
"Hey, Mindy, go get Horace, and bring him up here. I want to
take money out of my accounts, and Charity can't take care of
my business."

Mindy nodded toward Charity. "Give her what she wants.
That's Trudy Williams. She and her husband are among our
best customers."

Charity gasped as if she'd been tossed over the side of the
Washita River bridge in nothing but her sexy little thong underpants and concrete shoes. It was ten minutes before two,
and all bank business was concluded promptly at two o'clock.
I'd made sure that my transactions would go into that day's
business and she couldn't call Drew to warn him until the deed
was already done.

"Mindy, tell her to hurry up. I want these transactions done
before the two o'clock business goes in," I said.

"Get a move on it, Charity," she said.

Charity handed me two checks just as the clock ticked off
the two o'clock deadline.

"Thank you for your help. Now you can call Drew on his
cell. Tell him he's a lucky man. I only wiped out what I could.
The two bits I left are for you. Seems fittin', don't it?"

The ringtone on my cell phone let me know Drew was calling when I crawled into the car. Miss Two-bit Charity hadn't
wasted much time. The cat was out of the bag now, and there
was no turning back. If I regretted my hasty decision in ten
years and found myself living in a tar-paper shanty on the
Washita River, my newly found hot temper would be to blame.
I tossed the phone out the window.

The bank president at the other bank in Tishomingo met me
in the foyer and ushered me into his office. "Trudy Williams,
I was hoping you'd come here after the funeral."

He was new in town, and his instant warmth scared the
bejesus out of me. What if Drew had called him with instructions to keep me there until the mental institution could send a
helicopter to take me to a padded cell in Norman?

He motioned toward one of the leather chairs. "Please have
a seat, Mrs. Williams"

I didn't want to even think about the name Williams, much
less be called it. "Trudy. My name is Trudy."

"Thank you. I'm hoping you will want to keep your business here. Gertrude was one of our bank's biggest customers,
but I know you and your husband keep your affairs at the
other bank in town."

I laid the cashier's checks on his desk. "I'm going to keep
everything right here from now on. I've got a couple of checks,
and I'd like to open a checking account and savings account in
this bank"

He smiled. "That is wonderful. Just wonderful. I've prepared a list of Gert's assets just like she told me to do"

I wondered why he'd be so eager to keep Aunt Gert's miserly
amounts of money in his bank. She'd barely made it on her
Social Security income. Worn secondhand clothes and jewelry. Used coupons at the grocery store. Wouldn't even put in a
window unit for air-conditioning.

"I'm not here to move anything," I assured him.

The papers he shoved across the desk were inside a manila
folder. I opened it carefully, expecting to find a hundred dollars in her checking account and half that in savings. What I
saw almost stopped my heart. What I'd brought from the other
bank was a mere drop in the ocean compared to the figures
before me.

"As you can see, your Aunt Gertrude was a very wealthy
woman. Her folks had money, invested well, and left it all to
her. She and her lawyer came in here a few months ago with
instructions that I was to hand you this report after she passed
and the will was read," he said.

I was in total shock. I pinched my leg. It hurt like the devil,
so I wasn't dreaming.

"The interest off the money should provide a healthy monthly
income. Will you be selling the house on Broadway Street?"