July 2011
James Cassidy died quietly in his sleep with only a picture of his late wife, Ruth, to keep him company. If he had been asked, that was how he would have preferred it anyway.
He had been the only one there when Ruth had succumbed to breast cancer. Now, ten years later, she was the only one to witness his final moments of life, if only from within a framed photograph.
The church was full on the day of the funeral. There was the usual mix of people for a funeral of a rich and powerful man. Some genuine mourners, but a lot of people there just to see that the old man was really gone.
Cassidy had been out of the real estate business for fifteen years, but he had made some lasting impressions in his time.
His two sons in the front row with their families. Not one of them shed a tear for the loss.
A week following the funeral, the family gathered, this time in the conference room of the Busby and Associates Law Firm. Mr. Evan Busby had been Cassidy’s lawyer for more years than he cared to remember. It was Cassidy money that had helped him start his own law firm. And while he didn’t do quite as well as his client, Busby did extremely well for himself.
He glanced into the conference room and took a deep breath. It was not going to be easy, what he had to do next. There were nine people seated around the large conference table. James Junior and his wife Clare sat opposite the two empty seats where he and the young lady with him would sit. Next to James was his brother William and then his wife Vanessa. She was the only one dressed in black. She had a tissue in one hand but her eyes were dry. Next sat William and Vanessa’s oldest child, Colby and then his sister Pamela. On the other side of the table Pricilla, James’ oldest child sat primly next to her mother. Her hands were folded in her lap and she stared straight ahead at nothing. Next to her sat her two brothers, Gordon and Robert. Her husband John was not present, nor was her baby daughter, Cecilia.
He opened the door and bid the young woman enter first.
She was dressed in a pale blue pencil skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse underneath. She had done her hair up in a simple pony tail. Her black framed glasses hid her blue eyes.
The first thing James Cassidy Junior thought when he saw her was prim and proper as well as vaguely familiar. She sat down in the chair Busby held for her and then he sat down beside her. Obviously, his assistant.
Busby laid a thick folder on the table and opened it. Then he patted his pockets until he realized he was already wearing his glasses. He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher in the centre of the table and then wordlessly offered a glass to the young woman next to him. She shook her head no and so he set the pitcher back in the centre of the table. He took a sip of water. He adjusted his glasses. He straightened his tie.
“Mr. Busby,” James Jr. said. “Could we please get on with this? I have a squash game at 3.”
Busby glanced at the man who looked so much like his father. Busby had never liked his client’s oldest son.
“Of course, Mr. Cassidy. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to delay your game. Perhaps I should just give you the gist of what’s here so you may go.”
“That would be fine, Busby. Please just tell us what we get.”
“Nothing.”
If a pin had fallen on the table in that moment, it would have sounded like an explosion.
“Excuse me?” William asked, the younger son.
“You get nothing. All of you. Except Cecilia who has a college fund held in trust with me. If she goes on to post secondary education it is fully paid for. If she graduates from post secondary, she will receive a bonus of $100,000 to help start her future. The same is set up for any other grandchildren and great-grand children who may wish to use it. He said to consider it a Cassidy scholarship.”
“What happens to the rest of the estate?” James asked.
“Your father left it all to Sylvia Rowland.”
The woman next to Busby gasped and started so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. “What did you just say?” she asked.
“He left everything to you, Ms. Rowland,” Busby told her.
“But why? I was just his next door neighbour. When you told me he had written me into his will, I thought you meant just something small, some token or something.”
“No, Ms. Rowland. Everything. The entire Cassidy estate.” He turned to the Cassidy family sitting across from him at the table. “He and I figured you would want to contest the will.”
“You’re damn right, we do!” James erupted.
“Before you go to the trouble and expense, I can assure you that your father did this quite a while ago and we have the documentation that the doctor gave us saying that he was of sound mind and body. I made sure this will was iron clad. If you take it to court, you will be wasting your time and money.”
James stood and everyone else followed suit. “We’ll see about that.”
When the Cassidys left the room, Busby turned to Sylvia Rowland who sat beside him in shock.
“They don’t have a case against you. The estate is yours. I have some paperwork that we’ll need to go over, but you can move into the house whenever you want to.”
“The house?” She looked at Busby, confused.
“The house is part of the estate. Unless you’d rather sell it and buy another.”
“I don’t… I don’t know. He never told me. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I can’t tell you that, but maybe he can.” He reached into the folder and pulled out an envelope with Sylvia scrawled across it in James Cassidy Sr.’s bold script. She gently took the letter and fingered the envelope.
“I loved him you know,” she said, looking at the envelope. “My father died when I was five and so James became like a father to me. And now he’s gone, too.” Tears formed quickly in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. They dripped off her chin and onto the table but she didn’t wipe them away. She held onto the envelope, the last thing James would ever say to her, and cried.
Eventually she noticed that Mr. Busby was holding a tissue out to her so she took it and dried her face and blew her nose.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay. You’re not the first person to cry at the reading of a will. You won’t be the last. But I should get on with it. I really do have to read this will. Are you ready?”
She looked at the envelope in her hands and nodded.
No comments:
Post a Comment