Did Dad take his medication?
When did he eat?
Where are the insurance papers?
When is the nurse coming?
Frank died Tuesday morning.
Daniel and I were beside him.
Meredith arrived forty minutes later.
Frank had been dead less than three hours when Meredith stepped onto the screened porch and said, “We’ll need to decide what furniture stays.”
I remember staring at her.
She didn’t even seem to understand why.
Then came the funeral.
Flowers.
Church.
Photographs.
Casseroles nobody ate.
And finally Charles Holloway’s conference room.
After revealing that the lake house belonged to me, Charles allowed Meredith to argue for several minutes.
“Dad always said Daniel would get it.”
“I can only tell you what Frank executed,” Charles replied.
Meredith turned toward me.
“Did he discuss this with you?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
She studied my face as if searching for evidence of a conspiracy.
Daniel spoke.
“She didn’t know.”
For one second, I felt grateful.
Then he added:
“We’ll figure it out.”
There was that we again.
Charles slowly removed his glasses.
“Before anyone figures anything out,” he said, “there is another matter.”
Meredith shifted.
It was barely noticeable.
But I noticed.
Charles opened another folder.
“Can someone explain why a real estate agent requested access to Gull Lake before Frank’s funeral?”
Meredith’s face drained.
Daniel released my hand.
“What realtor?”
Charles looked at Meredith.
“A woman named Rebecca Shaw contacted my office four days before Frank died. She claimed she’d been asked to prepare a preliminary valuation.”
Meredith crossed her arms.
“That proves nothing.”
“She gave your name.”
Daniel turned to his sister.
“Meredith?”
She shook her head.
“I was gathering information.”
“While Dad was dying?”
“Don’t make it sound disgusting.”
“How should I make it sound?”
“We all knew decisions were coming.”
I finally spoke.
“Frank was still alive.”
Her eyes snapped toward me.
“And you don’t understand what it costs to maintain that property.”
“I know exactly what it costs. I paid half the service bills for the last six weeks because nobody else remembered them.”
Meredith flushed.
Charles interrupted.
“There’s more.”
He removed a sealed envelope.
Frank’s handwriting was on the front.
CLAIRE ONLY.
My pulse hammered.
Charles slid it toward me.
“I was instructed to give this to you only after the family learned about the property.”
Daniel stared at the envelope.
“What does it say?”
“I haven’t opened it.”
He reached for it.
I pulled it away.
For the first time in fourteen years, I saw genuine anger flash through my husband’s eyes because I had denied him something.
“Claire.”
“It has my name on it.”
“I’m your husband.”
