Little Black Book

Little Black Book

I stopped working, too hot to do anymore. I pushed the sweaty hair off my face and looked around for one last box to carry downstairs for sorting. There, that one was papers. I pulled it with me as I crawled backward, down the unstable boards lining the floor of my Mother's low attic. MY attic now, since Mother had died. I gingerly felt with my foot to locate the ladder. The fan blew hot air on my neck as I pulled the string for the bulb. I backed down into my bedroom, tugging the box through the small opening. I knew everything up there had gone through that hole, but some were heavy. The box slid down the ladder. I lifted it as I backed out of the closet, and barely turned before it crumbled. I dropped the pieces and the contents scattered. My dogs yipped under the bed but didn't come out.

The bedroom was cooler. The open door brought in air from the living room. The back bedrooms were closed off, so the window A/C was keeping up.

I limped into the bathroom and washed, ditching the mask and gloves. I combed my pony tail back together and re-bound it. My hair might be graying, but I could keep it neat. Perhaps I should get it cut before I had the knee replacement? In the kitchen I pulled a bottle of cold water from my fridge, downing half before returning to the bedroom.

This box was at least different. Most had been old Income Taxes. I had found a few of photographs (treasures to me!) I found my sister's coin collection. She didn't want to pay shipping to send it to her. I didn't know what to do with it. There were many boxes of dishes, labeled for her 11 Grandchildren. Mother had spent years collecting complete sets for each child. They didn't want them. Now it was all my problem. The boxes were crumbling. Mouse droppings were everywhere. I spent every evening vacuuming as I brought the boxes down. I'd need to have the carpet cleaned, unless I decided to buy new. It was close to 40 years old.

With my approaching surgery, I was not sure if I'd keep the house. I had my own, and needed to sell one or the other. My husband had also died, leaving me with debts. I have good insurance but this was just too much.

This box might be what the Lawyer wanted. It held receipts, signed papers, what looked like family Wills, Birth and Marriage records. Grandma and Mother had heavily researched the family Genealogy. Mother had produced a fat spiral bound book at the local printer, sending copies to everyone.

From the middle of the pile slid a gift bag of the sort wine bottles came in. I opened it. Inside was a little black book of the sort you kept addresses or records in. There were a couple more papers tucked in the pages. The handwriting was my Mother's. It was probably notes from the Genealogy. I put it aside to look through later.

Everything bagged, I stuffed the crumbled cardboard into the wood stove for the next rainy night. I took the sheet to shake, and added it to the laundry bag in the back seat of my car. A fresh sheet from the cedar chest covered the bed for tonight. Our sheets were wild! Mother had bought leftover sheets after a January White Sale. None of them were white, and few matched. We had brown stripes and primary color geometrics, deep green tropical foliage, bright tropical birds, tropical fish and more. Mother had laughed and said her sheets were bright enough to read by, and loud enough to wake the dead! When I discovered she had only two fitted bottom sheets, I bought two more in dark blue. They sort of pulled the wild stuff together, and meant I could change the beds without a trip to the Laundromat.

I loaded the papers into the back seat of my car, next to the bulging laundry bags. That was going to be one change. If I stayed I was ordering a small washer/dryer set to be installed in the tiny back bedroom. For some reason that had been Mother's room. The grandchildren usually slept there. The room was barely large enough for a twin bed, a desk and a dresser. It would become my office.

When I brought the vacuum into the bedroom the dogs decided this was good time to abandon the cave under the bed. In fact, they decided to insist on going outside. This meant I had to take a break, because it wasn't safe to leave them out alone. I clipped on their leashes, grabbed my hat, and took them down through the woods in my backyard. I have half an acre, poorly marked. I am sure the neighbor's bonfire area intrudes into my yard. I pay him to mow my yard, so I'm not about to complain right now. I'll have it surveyed and put in a fence 'because of the dogs'. Part of the fencing will have to be a roofed run, because we have Eagles and Owls that would consider my dogs to be hot lunches. In fact, so would some of the other dogs! This area runs to big dogs, not tiny.

When we get back in it's getting cooler. I open the door to the screen porch just wide enough for them. Inside, I finally get the vacuuming done. Supper is easy; chicken salad on a butter croissant, sliced strawberries on almond milk ice cream, and ice tea. The cat uncurls from her window perch over the couch and demands her chunk of chicken. The dogs, both smaller than her, appear and beg. I give them the last scraps of sandwich and get out the box of medicines. Kitty gets her Thyroid medicine in a bit of fancy fish paste. The dogs get theirs (1 allergy pill, one seizure pill) in hot dog bits. They check out the cat's fish plate in case she left any, and lick the flavor up. They all have filled dishes of kibbles, and bowls of water. A cool shower soothes my itchy skin under the brace.

Cleaned up, I take the booklet out to the porch to read. All 3 animals come out to sit on the ledges and bark back at the chipmunks. The party lights are cheerful, but I also turn on the white light so I can read. The black book turns out to be a list of the papers that had been in the box. Dull reading, really, though I saw a few names I knew. Some notes indicated loans made and repaid, so those were the papers. I put it back together and laid it by my car keys. We watched the sunset, talking to a few neighbors walking by. A last walk for the dogs, down our sandy road, and into bed.

The next morning it's starting to rain. I insist the dogs go out, but they take care of business quickly and we're back inside before the storm really cuts loose. Don't need the A/C today! With everyone taken care of, I'm off to town. Mr. Bradley's secretary will open his office early, so I park right in front to unload under the awning. “Hi Eloise! I think I might have found the papers Mr. Bradley was talking about. Looks like pretty old stuff. We lucked out, too. There's a list in this notebook putting them in what looks like chronological order. What did he want them for, anyhow? I though Mom's Will was pretty easy, since she distributed most of her CDs and stuff years ago. My sibs got the money, I got the house and whatever was still in it, and there were a few odds and ends. No big deal.”

“True. I'll have that part done in another week or so, including issuing you a new Deed with her name taken off. Do you want someone added under you?” Mr. Bradley had come in behind me from a back office. This was Mr. Bradley, SR, who was probably as old as my Mother had been. He only did a few clients now, and no Court stuff. His son and grandson were doing almost everything else.

“Yes, I'll probably add my Granddaughters but my son will have to sign for them since they are minors. We're trying to keep his name off owning stuff because their mother is being nasty. He has custody.”

“I'll see what I can do about the wording for that. Perhaps a small Trust with him as Trustee? I'll be ready. Anyhow, the reason I had you looking for these old papers is that filing your Mother's Will turned her name up in some other computer files. She was always careful, but somehow she didn't finish some things. I need your signature a few places. Don't worry, it's nothing unpleasant.”

I left, with an appointment for the next week. Laundry done, I picked up a box of groceries. I had promised cookies for VBS next week, and today was a good day to bake.

A hot week later, I was back. Mr. Bradley was ready, as promised. His son and Eloise witnessed me sign what seemed to be a hundred pages. My son was with me. He had to sign a few, too. Mr. Bradley explained everything as we went. These papers were setting up a small Living Trust for my house and the bank account that would go with it. My son would be the Trustee after I died. He was responsible for using the funds provided for maintaining the house and property, including taxes. No one unrelated to me was permitted to stay more than a reasonable visit, a few days. The Trust collapsed when the younger sister finished schooling or turned 25, whichever was later. Sine the property had 2 lots, they could split them and build a second cottage, or sell the whole. The only name on the house was mine. I didn't expect to die that soon, but I could collapse the whole thing as soon as the girls were old enough to sign. My own new Will was in that pile.

Second was finalizing my Mother's Will. That went quickly, since only legal stuff had to be signed, including that new Deed.

Finally, Mr. Bradley explained. “Your mother was residual legatee to her Uncle. His farm was signed over to the Nursing Home. When he died, his wife also became in need of care, but it was discovered he had left quite a large Insurance to take care of her. She was in comfort for the rest of her life. His children also got Insurance.” I nodded. I knew my Uncle Pat and Aunt Inez, who had died 20 years ago.

“Thing is, they hadn't signed over quite everything he owned, nor the remainder of her payment. There were a few other Insurance Policies, bank accounts, and payments he was owed by others that came in later, all small. Your Mother was his namesake, and their Joint Will named her as Residual Heir. There were some claims which were eventually denied. Your Mother, and thus you, inherit all the bits and pieces from her Uncle and Aunt. I used those as the basis for the Trust Fund account you wished to set up to take care of your property. You also get a small check as token of the Settlement, which I suggest you deposit in your personal account. Taxes and all Fees are already taken out, including mine.” Bewildered, I nodded like a Bobble Head Doll, and signed. Eloise handed me a new checkbook, copies of everything, and a check.

With a cramp in my hand and a headache, I sat in my chair holding a 'token' check for $20,000.