General Fiction posted May 12, 2021 | Chapters: | ...9 10 -11- 12... |
Maddie faces off with her mother at the attorney's office.
A chapter in the book Planted on Perry Street
Mother, Mother
by Laurie Holding
Background Maddie Bridges is a contemporary witch who owns a plant store in Greenwich Village. After her landlady's apartment robbery earlier in the day, she is now meeting with her mother and attorney. |
"Here's how I see it, Brian," Mother said, and she stopped long enough to lean across the table and lay her hand over mine. My eyes fell to our hands and I kept my gaze there. "Tom was...angry toward the end of his illness. You know how they get. The terminally ill, you know. Angry at life, angry at the diagnosis, angry at the people who are trying their best to take care of them..."
This was where she withdrew her hand from mine, rooted carefully through her Louis Vuitton for a tissue, then dabbed her dry eyes with it.
"I just think he must have snuck down here last minute, before, you know, before it got too bad, and switched up the will to make a point. Shake his fist at me and at the world in general. Surely you agree on some level, Madeline?" She looked at me and actually batted her fake, I mean faux, lashes.
The word she had just used flooded me with hot adrenaline. "You're saying Dad snuck down here? On his own? Sure, Mother," I said. I started digging in my bag, while visions of Ms. Esther calling me a little sneak flew past me. I could still hear Uncle Archie's toast to Dad, when he called Mother a little sneak.
It was all just piling on.
"Sure Mother," I repeated, pulling out my copy of Dad's final will from my carpetbag. I flipped to the last page. "Pretty sure it was a breeze for him to get himself dressed after having been in bed for weeks...when was it?" I squinted at the date on the will. "Um, nine days before he died a miserable death. You're saying that it's completely plausible that somehow he managed to get on a train alone, find his way here, talk it out with Brian, and then put his signature on a complete reversal of a will that had been in place most of his adult life." I folded the will slowly and put it back in my bag.
"Ah. I guess that's my cue," Brian interjected. He coughed into his hand, licked his lips. "We had the paperwork all drawn up, Sarah. Tom called and asked me to visit him while you..." he shot a quick glance at Mother, "when you were out doing, um, errands. So really," he looked from me back to Mother, "it was just a matter of a signature on the new will."
We both regarded him for a silent moment or two. "When we originally presented the will to you," he went on after another lip lick, "the situation, as you'll remember, ah, kind of imploded. You both left before I could explain the details of the change in Tom's will. And Tom explicitly instructed us to have you both in the room. Together. When his full intentions were divulged."
"Sounds to me," I said, "like Brian has already heard some of our evil little family secrets, Mother. Let's just spill all of this out onto the table right now. About your new man. Actually, not so new man. Or is it men? Regardless, it obviously wasn't my father who was sneaking down here to change his will. Turns out someone else is, in fact, the sneak."
I clenched onto my tongue with my teeth then, willing myself to be still and to hold my focus. I was supposed to speak softly, here. And I was obviously messing it all up.
Mother gaped at me, looked in shock at Brian, who was sporting a blotchy kind of blush. Mother stood up and put her manicured hands on her hips. "How dare you accuse me of inappropriate behavior while I was married to that darling man! Why, the nerve! Surely you don't believe those ugly words that just came out of your mouth."
I weighed my response, all the while measuring Brian Snyder's part in this family passion play. He was resting quite comfortably now, the blush settling down and his hands still clasped but relaxed on his lap.
"I had lunch with Uncle Archie a while back," I started, then turned to Brian. "He was my father's best friend in school. They did everything together, and when he got sick, Archie tried to spend as much time with Dad as possible. They were like brothers." I blinked back the tears that wanted out.
"Yes, of course," said Brian. "Archie was our witness that day we changed the will. Nice guy."
"So?" Mother said. She had taken her seat again but was perched on the edge of it.
"So he told me about your cheating on Dad. For years," I emphasized to Brian, then turned back to her. "Dad confided in Uncle Archie about everything, Mother."
I watched her, knowing she was going back in time. "Dad loved you," I went on. "According to Uncle Archie, even after the truth was out, even after he threatened to leave you, he ended up holding out hope. Thought maybe you'd get tired, change your mind, and stay with him. And he wanted that to happen. Not because of how things looked to other people, Mother, but because you actually wanted to stay."
I didn't say the other things Uncle Archie had told me. I didn't mention that my father knew there were too many ways for him to lose if they divorced. Bank accounts, money markets, stock. Except for her own little account, they were all under his name only, and when it all came down to it, Dad didn't want to risk losing half of everything to a woman who didn't love or respect him.
"The long and short, Mother?" I leaned across the table and placed my hand on top of hers. "Dad didn't want to mess around in court with you while he was alive. So everywhere his name once was, my name is there now. He transferred the title of his car. For all the stock and the funds that he set up on his own, he just changed the beneficiary from you to me. Maybe he did it that way because he knew all along not to trust you. From what I hear, your steppin' out goes back to my middle school days. True?"
Mother stared at her fingernails, bit her perfect lip. Brian was as still as the magical stones in my pocket. I touched them, prayed to soften my words.
"Here's my proposal," I said. "You're my mother. And while I hate what you did to Dad, hate that you did...that...while I did my homework and watched television and wondered why my mom was taking so long to go pick up her prescriptions, I don't want to be the one who's responsible for your financial ruin. I don't need that on my conscience. I want you to keep the house, and I want to help you. I'd like to pay your taxes."
She looked up at me as if I were going to continue, as if she expected me to keep talking, but I'd known from the moment this meeting had been scheduled. No matter what else spilled out of this mouth, the tax bit would be my last line.
I just looked back at her, unblinking. The stones and crystals were finally doing their jobs.
Brian cleared his throat. "This is an extremely generous offer, Sarah. There is no legal requirement for Madeline to compromise with you regarding her father's will, even after your having contested it. And here she is, offering you the chance to stay in a home that is completely paid off, in one of America's most affluent neighborhoods. Tax-free."
"The. Most. Affluent. Neighborhood," Mother said, tapping her orange fingertips on the cherry wood of the conference table. She glared at me.
She had the nerve to glare at me.
I stood up.
"Or not," I said. "Pretty sure a couple of towns out west have usurped Scarsdale's title, Mother. But your neighborhood is still number three." I pushed in my chair. "The way I see it? I never liked it there. Growing up in Scarsdale wasn't quite the breeze you wanted to think it was. So by all means, you aren't required to accept this offer." I turned my back to them then, and I knew they would both assume I was getting emotional. Instead, I was silently casting a last-ditch spell, moving my lips with my eyes closed.
Accept the gift I offer, and many more to come.
May honesty, humility keep anger ever mum.
And as we turn this corner may each of us reside
In gratitude, abundance, resentment now denied.
I turned around and faced my mother. Her eyes were full. Definitely not spilling over, since she was usually pretty careful not to mess with the makeup, but I could tell she was feeling something.
"You know full well that I would need more than my taxes paid, Madeline," she almost whispered.
"And we'll talk about all that, down the road, Mom." It was weird, calling her that, but I wanted to reach her. "For now, just for today, we need to take baby steps." I had a brief flash of memory, a teenaged me negotiating for a raise in allowance and her trading it for potions I had concocted. Beauty potions, sleep potions, she tried them all and claimed that some of them actually worked.
Lately I've been wondering if she used my first love potion on that other man.
Regardless, the point was that Mother never gave me anything unless it was tied to some sort of trade. Gods forgive me, but a very real part of me wanted her to know how that felt.
"But I was his wife!" She seemed startled out of a trance, looking to Brian for support and shaking her head. The little beads on her braids clicked delicately together as they swayed. "Brian?"
He regarded us both and took a nice silver pen out of his breast pocket, as if to just busy his hands.
"There is another option, Sarah, if you don't want to accept Madeline's help." He looked up. "You could just sell the house and live your life." He blinked, put the pen down. "A will is a will. I can't change Tom's will. But the fact of the matter is that your daughter is willing to meet you somewhere in the middle of all this to help you stay in your home. She doesn't have to do that. And if that doesn't suit you, or you can't..." he coughed, "afford it, you are still able to sell the house, and live on the proceeds. I've seen the place. It's a gem. And like you said..." He waved his hands like he was solving everything. "Scarsdale."
I rested my hand on the back of my chair. She looked like a child who has just been told "No" to ice cream on a hot sunny day.
"We can just wait, let you think about it, Mom. I'd like to mend what's broken here----" I said.
"Broken by you and your father!" she interrupted as she turned toward the door.
"...one crack at a time," I said softly.
I'm not sure she heard me, because at that point I was standing in wonder, watching my beautiful mother stalk out of the room.
This was where she withdrew her hand from mine, rooted carefully through her Louis Vuitton for a tissue, then dabbed her dry eyes with it.
"I just think he must have snuck down here last minute, before, you know, before it got too bad, and switched up the will to make a point. Shake his fist at me and at the world in general. Surely you agree on some level, Madeline?" She looked at me and actually batted her fake, I mean faux, lashes.
The word she had just used flooded me with hot adrenaline. "You're saying Dad snuck down here? On his own? Sure, Mother," I said. I started digging in my bag, while visions of Ms. Esther calling me a little sneak flew past me. I could still hear Uncle Archie's toast to Dad, when he called Mother a little sneak.
It was all just piling on.
"Sure Mother," I repeated, pulling out my copy of Dad's final will from my carpetbag. I flipped to the last page. "Pretty sure it was a breeze for him to get himself dressed after having been in bed for weeks...when was it?" I squinted at the date on the will. "Um, nine days before he died a miserable death. You're saying that it's completely plausible that somehow he managed to get on a train alone, find his way here, talk it out with Brian, and then put his signature on a complete reversal of a will that had been in place most of his adult life." I folded the will slowly and put it back in my bag.
"Ah. I guess that's my cue," Brian interjected. He coughed into his hand, licked his lips. "We had the paperwork all drawn up, Sarah. Tom called and asked me to visit him while you..." he shot a quick glance at Mother, "when you were out doing, um, errands. So really," he looked from me back to Mother, "it was just a matter of a signature on the new will."
We both regarded him for a silent moment or two. "When we originally presented the will to you," he went on after another lip lick, "the situation, as you'll remember, ah, kind of imploded. You both left before I could explain the details of the change in Tom's will. And Tom explicitly instructed us to have you both in the room. Together. When his full intentions were divulged."
"Sounds to me," I said, "like Brian has already heard some of our evil little family secrets, Mother. Let's just spill all of this out onto the table right now. About your new man. Actually, not so new man. Or is it men? Regardless, it obviously wasn't my father who was sneaking down here to change his will. Turns out someone else is, in fact, the sneak."
I clenched onto my tongue with my teeth then, willing myself to be still and to hold my focus. I was supposed to speak softly, here. And I was obviously messing it all up.
Mother gaped at me, looked in shock at Brian, who was sporting a blotchy kind of blush. Mother stood up and put her manicured hands on her hips. "How dare you accuse me of inappropriate behavior while I was married to that darling man! Why, the nerve! Surely you don't believe those ugly words that just came out of your mouth."
I weighed my response, all the while measuring Brian Snyder's part in this family passion play. He was resting quite comfortably now, the blush settling down and his hands still clasped but relaxed on his lap.
"I had lunch with Uncle Archie a while back," I started, then turned to Brian. "He was my father's best friend in school. They did everything together, and when he got sick, Archie tried to spend as much time with Dad as possible. They were like brothers." I blinked back the tears that wanted out.
"Yes, of course," said Brian. "Archie was our witness that day we changed the will. Nice guy."
"So?" Mother said. She had taken her seat again but was perched on the edge of it.
"So he told me about your cheating on Dad. For years," I emphasized to Brian, then turned back to her. "Dad confided in Uncle Archie about everything, Mother."
I watched her, knowing she was going back in time. "Dad loved you," I went on. "According to Uncle Archie, even after the truth was out, even after he threatened to leave you, he ended up holding out hope. Thought maybe you'd get tired, change your mind, and stay with him. And he wanted that to happen. Not because of how things looked to other people, Mother, but because you actually wanted to stay."
I didn't say the other things Uncle Archie had told me. I didn't mention that my father knew there were too many ways for him to lose if they divorced. Bank accounts, money markets, stock. Except for her own little account, they were all under his name only, and when it all came down to it, Dad didn't want to risk losing half of everything to a woman who didn't love or respect him.
"The long and short, Mother?" I leaned across the table and placed my hand on top of hers. "Dad didn't want to mess around in court with you while he was alive. So everywhere his name once was, my name is there now. He transferred the title of his car. For all the stock and the funds that he set up on his own, he just changed the beneficiary from you to me. Maybe he did it that way because he knew all along not to trust you. From what I hear, your steppin' out goes back to my middle school days. True?"
Mother stared at her fingernails, bit her perfect lip. Brian was as still as the magical stones in my pocket. I touched them, prayed to soften my words.
"Here's my proposal," I said. "You're my mother. And while I hate what you did to Dad, hate that you did...that...while I did my homework and watched television and wondered why my mom was taking so long to go pick up her prescriptions, I don't want to be the one who's responsible for your financial ruin. I don't need that on my conscience. I want you to keep the house, and I want to help you. I'd like to pay your taxes."
She looked up at me as if I were going to continue, as if she expected me to keep talking, but I'd known from the moment this meeting had been scheduled. No matter what else spilled out of this mouth, the tax bit would be my last line.
I just looked back at her, unblinking. The stones and crystals were finally doing their jobs.
Brian cleared his throat. "This is an extremely generous offer, Sarah. There is no legal requirement for Madeline to compromise with you regarding her father's will, even after your having contested it. And here she is, offering you the chance to stay in a home that is completely paid off, in one of America's most affluent neighborhoods. Tax-free."
"The. Most. Affluent. Neighborhood," Mother said, tapping her orange fingertips on the cherry wood of the conference table. She glared at me.
She had the nerve to glare at me.
I stood up.
"Or not," I said. "Pretty sure a couple of towns out west have usurped Scarsdale's title, Mother. But your neighborhood is still number three." I pushed in my chair. "The way I see it? I never liked it there. Growing up in Scarsdale wasn't quite the breeze you wanted to think it was. So by all means, you aren't required to accept this offer." I turned my back to them then, and I knew they would both assume I was getting emotional. Instead, I was silently casting a last-ditch spell, moving my lips with my eyes closed.
Accept the gift I offer, and many more to come.
May honesty, humility keep anger ever mum.
And as we turn this corner may each of us reside
In gratitude, abundance, resentment now denied.
I turned around and faced my mother. Her eyes were full. Definitely not spilling over, since she was usually pretty careful not to mess with the makeup, but I could tell she was feeling something.
"You know full well that I would need more than my taxes paid, Madeline," she almost whispered.
"And we'll talk about all that, down the road, Mom." It was weird, calling her that, but I wanted to reach her. "For now, just for today, we need to take baby steps." I had a brief flash of memory, a teenaged me negotiating for a raise in allowance and her trading it for potions I had concocted. Beauty potions, sleep potions, she tried them all and claimed that some of them actually worked.
Lately I've been wondering if she used my first love potion on that other man.
Regardless, the point was that Mother never gave me anything unless it was tied to some sort of trade. Gods forgive me, but a very real part of me wanted her to know how that felt.
"But I was his wife!" She seemed startled out of a trance, looking to Brian for support and shaking her head. The little beads on her braids clicked delicately together as they swayed. "Brian?"
He regarded us both and took a nice silver pen out of his breast pocket, as if to just busy his hands.
"There is another option, Sarah, if you don't want to accept Madeline's help." He looked up. "You could just sell the house and live your life." He blinked, put the pen down. "A will is a will. I can't change Tom's will. But the fact of the matter is that your daughter is willing to meet you somewhere in the middle of all this to help you stay in your home. She doesn't have to do that. And if that doesn't suit you, or you can't..." he coughed, "afford it, you are still able to sell the house, and live on the proceeds. I've seen the place. It's a gem. And like you said..." He waved his hands like he was solving everything. "Scarsdale."
I rested my hand on the back of my chair. She looked like a child who has just been told "No" to ice cream on a hot sunny day.
"We can just wait, let you think about it, Mom. I'd like to mend what's broken here----" I said.
"Broken by you and your father!" she interrupted as she turned toward the door.
"...one crack at a time," I said softly.
I'm not sure she heard me, because at that point I was standing in wonder, watching my beautiful mother stalk out of the room.
Maddie is especially sensitive when her landlady accuses her of stealing from her apartment, being "a little sneak" because Maddie tries very hard to be a loyal friend and family member. Sarah Bridges brings that all up again when she accuses her deceased husband, Maddie's father, of having "snuck" down to the attorney's office during his illness to change his will.
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