Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind (26 page)

BOOK: Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind
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M
Y HEAD SWIVELED
from Sam to Binkie, waiting for one of them to say the accusations were ridiculous. Sam frowned, deep in thought, and Binkie chewed her thumbnail.

“Can they do that?” I asked.

“They’d have to prove it,” Sam said hesitantly, as if wondering what I’d done that he didn’t know about.

“Which they’d have a hard time doing,” Binkie added.

“That depends,” Dr. Fowler said. “It depends on what they’re trying to prove. If it’s a criminal charge, yes, it would be hard to prove. But Brother Vern’s testimony, added to that of so many others, including mine and her pastor’s, could well make a case for diminished capacity.”

Binkie turned on him, her hair swinging in her face. “Who
are
you?”

“I’m Dr. Fred Fowler, certified clinical psychologist.” He stood a little straighter as he said it. “And I’ve been retained by the session of the First Presbyterian Church to look into this matter.”

“Good grief!” Binkie said, throwing up her hands.

Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head worse than I’d ever seen. Hazel Marie tightened her arm around Lillian’s shoulders, and Pastor Ledbetter sat back with his hands clasped over his abdo
men, composed and content. Brother Vern’s black eyes ranged avidly over us all, watching for any other unexpected advantage.

“Now, Mrs. Springer,” Dr. Fowler went on, his voice as soft as if he were gentling a wild woman. “We don’t want you to be concerned. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise. And no one is going to reveal any embarrassing details as long as you allow us to help you. Everything’s going to be just fine. All we’re concerned about is your welfare. I suggest you let me admit you to my infirmary for a few tests. And you can have a well-deserved rest at the same time.”

“Sam?” I said, beginning to realize that they really could have me committed to some linoleum-floored, Lysol-smelling dormitory for the demented, doomed to the droning of game shows and Jenny Jones for the rest of my life.

“You know we’ll take care of you, Miss Julia,” Pastor Ledbetter said. “I’ve already begun the process, because I know Mr. Springer would want us to look after you.”

“What they talkin’ about?” Lillian asked, her eyes big with the fear that was beginning to well up in me.

“Binkie?” I said, turning to her.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” she said, pacing back and forth. “The problem is, the
big
problem is…Sam, you see what I mean?”

“Yeah, the clerk of court.”

“The clerk of court?” I gasped as my soul dropped down to my feet. “You mean
Leonard
? Leonard
Conover
?”

“That’s right,” Sam said. “Leonard Conover’s the one who’d handle this, the one who’d have the final disposition of their application. And the one who’d appoint a guardian. But hang on, Julia, we’re not without a few resources of our own.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Pastor Ledbetter said. “You may not be aware of the details of Miss Julia’s recent erratic behavior.”

I looked at his confident expression and at the gleam in the
peculiar eyes of Dr. Fowler, and I knew they were prepared to ruin my life forever. I pictured a line of my friends and neighbors testifying in open court about the changes they’d seen in me. I pictured Dr. Fowler describing that episode in the bridal parlor, and I pictured Leonard Conover, who thought the sun rose and set on Pastor Ledbetter, deciding my fate. I felt a tremor run through my body. Men, religious men, had been making decisions for me all my life, telling me not to worry, do what I tell you, I know what’s best for you, what you want is not important. And I’d let them, always assuming that they were right, that they knew more than I did, that it was my place to agree and go along, even as the icy knife of resentment cut wider and deeper into my heart. While I smiled and kept on smiling. Only since Wesley Lloyd’s passing had I felt like a real person. So, yes, Pastor Ledbetter was right; I had changed. I was different from what I’d always been. Now I said what I was thinking instead of packing it down inside. Now I did what I wanted to do instead of what I was told to do. Now I followed my own inclinations instead of waiting for instructions. I’d discovered that I was neither a child nor a half-wit, and I’d refused to be treated as either. I was a grown woman.

No wonder they thought I was crazy.

Yet I also knew that without Wesley Lloyd’s money, there wouldn’t be this concern for my welfare, even if I threw myself at every man in town. If I’d been as broke as Hazel Marie, they might bring me a few casseroles and a box of dusting powder at Christmas, but they wouldn’t be trying to put me in a two-hundred-dollar-a-day nursing home. That money had given me a freedom I’d never known, and now it was about to bind me up worse than Wesley Lloyd ever had.

My hands shook as I reached up and began to unbutton the bodice of my dress.

Brother Vern drew in a sibilant breath, while Dr. Fowler and
Pastor Ledbetter began to back away. Pastor Ledbetter’s face paled, his mouth dropping open, as if he feared I’d choose him as my next victim.

“Don’t,” he gasped. “Fred, do something.”

But Fred ducked his head and sidled toward the door. He wasn’t about to tangle with me again.

I unbuttoned the second button. Sam and Binkie looked shocked, but no more than Lillian and Deputy Bates.

Hazel Marie was the only one who moved. She walked over and stood in front of me, shielding me from them. She placed both her hands on mine.

“Oh, honey,” she said, so softly I could barely hear her. “Don’t do this. Let’s me and you go upstairs.”

My bones went weak on me as her poor, battered face swam out of focus through the tears that flooded my eyes. I’d never before in my life been called a sweet name by somebody who really meant it.

“It’s all right,” I whispered to her. “It’s really all right.”

We looked at each other a long second, then she nodded and took her hands from mine. But she stayed in front of me while I continued to unbutton my bodice. I reached inside and unpinned the pink paper. When I had it out, Hazel Marie rebuttoned my dress for me and stepped to my side.

“Here, Sam,” I said, holding the paper out to him. “This should go to you. I expect it’ll change a few things.”

S
AM WALKED OVER
and took the paper from me. He unfolded it, read it, and looked at me with what might’ve been a gleam of admiration in his eyes. It might’ve been pity, though, I couldn’t tell which. Everybody watched as Sam looked down and read it again, shaking his head and pursing his mouth in thought. Hazel Marie slid her arm around my waist, and I was grateful for the support since I was feeling a bit wobbly. Everybody in the room was aware that the flimsy piece of pink paper was of great import. Only Sam and I knew how great.

Binkie said, “What is it?”

“It’s a holographic will,” Sam said.

“A holy what?” Hazel Marie asked.

“A handwritten will.” He held it out to Binkie to read. “Wesley Lloyd Springer wrote it the night he died, according to the date. And it does change things. A good many things.”

“What do it say?” Lillian asked, picking up on the charged atmosphere and misinterpreting it. “What time Mr. Springer write that thing, befo’ he passed or after?”

“Before, Miss Lillian,” Binkie assured her, “before. Probably sometime that day.”

“Read it out loud, Binkie,” I said, “so everybody’ll know.”

“Here, Sam,” she said, handing the paper to him. “It’s your place to read it.” She went over and stood by Deputy Bates.

“What it says,” Sam began, “is that Mr. Springer left his entire estate to his son, Little Lloyd here.”

Dead silence as everyone looked at the boy. Except me, who was still trying to control the trembling as I waited to feel their pity directed my way.

“What!” Pastor Ledbetter was the first to find his voice. “Why, that can’t be! Can he do that? Is that thing legal?”

“As legal as it can get,” Sam said. “I can attest to the signature.”

“I don’t believe it! Miss Julia, I…you, we have to do something, fight it, take it to court, something!”

“Forget it, Pastor,” Binkie said, standing under Deputy Bates’s arm, which was stretched out across the mantel. “That will’s as solid as a rock, much to Miss Julia’s sorrow, I’m sure.”

As Pastor Ledbetter looked for help from Dr. Fowler, who had none to offer, Brother Vern approached Sam. “Spell that out for me if you will, Brother.”

“It simply means that the boy inherits his father’s estate when he reaches maturity.”


Everything?

“That’s what it says.”

“The Lord be praised! Child,” he said, turning a benevolent face toward Little Lloyd, “you have been blessed beyond belief and, undoubtedly, your family with you. Hazel Marie, you gonna need help raisin’ this boy. It’s a great responsibility, but I’m here to help every step of the way.”

Hazel Marie had not moved from my side. She looked from Sam to Brother Vern, and back to Sam again.

“You mean,” she said, “Wesley Lloyd left everything to Junior when he gets grown?”

“Yes,” Sam said, “but it also means that he, and you, will be taken care of financially from now on.”

Hazel Marie was trembling worse than I was by this time. She put her hand up to cover her mouth. “I don’t understand,” she said.

“It means, Hazel Marie,” I said, “that you won’t have to crack a lick at a snake ever again.”

She crumpled against me, both hands covering her face as she sobbed. “Oh, Miz Springer, that’s just not right.”

“Of course it’s right,” I told her, patting her back. “Sam wouldn’t make such a mistake.”

“No, I mean it’s not fair. You were his legal wife, can he do this?”

“Mama?” Little Lloyd came to us, his face wrinkled with worry to see his mother crying. “What’s the matter, Mama? What’s going to happen to us?”

“Not a thing, Little Lloyd,” I said. “All your troubles are over, and your mama is crying from happiness. You don’t have to worry where you’re going to live or what you’re going to do from now on. In fact, you can live right here, if you want to.” I patted Hazel Marie’s back with one hand and put my other arm around Little Lloyd’s shoulders, trying to comfort them in their joy.

“Right here?” Little Lloyd’s face glowed at the thought. “With you? And Miss Lillian? Mama, hear that? Miz Springer wants us to live here with her.”

“Oh, child.” I sighed, thinking my heart might break.

I glanced at Lillian, who had thrown her head back against her chair. Her eyes were closed and her mouth moved in what I hoped was fervent prayer for us all. Me, especially, because I was the one who needed it.

“Miss Julia,” Pastor Ledbetter said, “I am so sorry.” He dropped into a chair and leaned his elbows on his knees. Then he wiped his face with both hands, frowning and slowly shaking
his head. “Nobody could’ve foreseen such an outcome. You don’t suppose,” he said, looking hopefully at Dr. Fowler, “that we could help Miss Julia break this new will?”

“Unlikely,” he snapped, as if he were fed up with the whole situation, “if it’s as authentic as it appears to be. Besides, if we supported her in breaking it, how would it appear to the court if you then made application to have her declared incompetent?”

“Good point,” Binkie said.

“Well,” Pastor Ledbetter said, “I don’t suppose anybody will believe this, but I am truly concerned for Miss Julia. What will she do, in her condition, if this will has made her destitute? Sam, what can the church do to help?”

“Maybe the best thing,” Sam told him quietly, “is to give Julia a chance to absorb this. It comes as a shock, you know. There are a few options she can consider, so why don’t you and the good doctor, or whatever he is, give her some time. Then if she needs the church’s help, she’ll let you know.”

“Yes, that’s good advice.” He rose to his full height and came over to me. “I am so sorry about all of this, Miss Julia. Maybe I was wrong to proceed as I did, but I want you to know it was from the best of intentions.”

“I know, Pastor, and I appreciate those good intentions. And I’d appreciate it even more if you’d call off Leonard before he does some major damage.”

He nodded, murmuring something about the Lord issuing a call to a new ministry. We’re told to forgive those who trespass against us, but I declare it was a bitter pill to swallow to keep my mouth shut about his current ministry.

After Pastor Ledbetter and Dr. Fowler took their leave, Brother Vern seemed to expand to fill the space. “Let me add my deep concern to theirs for your misfortune, Miz Springer,”
he said, hardly able to suppress the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Now, Hazel Marie, pull yourself together, girl, and let’s let these lawyers tell us about this child’s inheritance. Maybe we ought to decide right quick how it’ll be managed; you can’t get slack on these matters, you know.”

Hazel Marie took her tear-stained face from my shoulder and looked around. “Brother Vern, there’s no
we
involved in this. Deputy Bates, I want to swear out a peace warrant on this man. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “We’ll have to go to the magistrate’s office, but for now, Brother Vern, I’d advise you to keep your distance from these people. Are you understanding me?”

“Why, Hazel Marie, I’m your own kin, and your nearest male relative,” Brother Vern implored. “Nearest that’s grown, I mean. But if that don’t mean nothing to you, remember that I can have you declared an unfit mother and have myself appointed the boy’s guardian. I don’t want to do that, ’cause it’ll be a long, drawn-out mess, but I will if you push me to it.”

Sam said, “Maybe you better look this over before you make any plans to go to court.” He held the will out so Brother Vern could read it, but he didn’t let go of it.

Brother Vern took enough time to read it two or three times, his face growing longer and sadder as he read. “Hazel Marie’s not the guardian?” he finally asked.

“No,” Sam said. “I am.”

Hazel Marie’s body vibrated with tension at this new turn of events. “Does he mean,” she asked me, “that he wants to take my boy, too?”

“No, that’s not what it means,” Sam assured her. “All the will specifies is that I am the executor of the will and the boy’s financial guardian. The court will assign me to oversee the boy’s general welfare, his education, and to manage his affairs until
he’s old enough to do it himself. You are his mother and primary caregiver, and it’ll be up to me to see that you both live comfortably. And,” he said firmly to Brother Vern, “having Miss Puckett declared unfit will not change my responsibility to the estate in any way and it would not benefit any other member of the boy’s family. On top of that, my opinion of Miss Puckett’s fitness will weigh heavily in any court in the land and, from what I’ve seen, she’s doing a fine job with this boy.”

Brother Vern’s face darkened as Sam laid it out for him. He didn’t linger after that, leaving with an ill grace and a show of bad manners, like letting the screen door slam behind him. You can always tell when somebody’s not been raised right.

“I still can’t believe all this,” Hazel Marie said, tears threatening again. “And I still don’t think it’s right. Miz Springer, what does all this mean for you?”

“Well,” I said, taking a deep breath and trying to accept my fate more gracefully than Brother Vern. “It means that I’m destitute. It means that Wesley Lloyd didn’t care whether I had a roof over my head or not.”

“I care, Miz Springer!” Little Lloyd cried. “You can live with us, can’t she, Mama?”

“She sure can.” Hazel Marie smiled her closed-mouth smile. I hoped the first thing she did with Wesley Lloyd’s money was to get her teeth fixed. And the second thing, a pair of glasses for his son that fit. “Why don’t you do that, Miz Springer? I’d really like you to.”

“No, it wouldn’t do at all. I can’t accept charity, though I thank you for offering. No, what I have to do is submit to the Lord’s will, or to Wesley Lloyd’s, whichever is responsible for this. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away,” I added, striving for a piety I was neither familiar with nor presently feeling.

“Wel-l-l,” Sam said, eyes twinkling as he smiled broadly. “He hasn’t quite taken everything away.”

Binkie laughed out loud and snuggled up against Deputy Bates, right there in my living room. Except it wasn’t mine any longer, so I didn’t care if she did snuggle.

“I don’t see a thing funny about an old woman with no place to lay her head and with nothing to eat,” I told them. “It seems to me that you two would have a little more sympathy, or at least wait to laugh at me when I’m gone.”

“Don’t you worry, Miz Springer,” Hazel Marie said. “You’ll never be without as long as I have a nickel to my name.”

Binkie and Sam couldn’t control their laughter, both of them sputtering and carrying on until my feelings were hurting so bad I wanted to bawl out loud.

“Tell her, Sam,” Binkie said, finally coming up for air.

“Julia, Julia, Julia,” Sam said. “Sorry to carry on this way, but I think we’ve put over a big one on all those who wanted to get a hand in your pocket. Fact of the matter is,” he said, coming over beside me, “in this state, a spouse always has a share in an estate. No matter what Wesley Lloyd intended, and he may well have known this, as his widow you are entitled to half of his estate. And half of the Springer estate is not to be sneezed at. We’ll have to file a dissent to the will, but that’ll be pretty cut and dried.”

I had to sit down. Then I had to get my breath back. And I didn’t want Sam too close to me, not knowing what I’d do in my weakened state. I had a powerful urge to throw my arms around him.

“That mean,” Lillian asked, “that bof’ Miss Julia and this baby gets Mr. Springer’s financials?”

“Yep,” Sam said, still grinning. “That’s what it means.”

“Thank you, Jesus!”

“And thank the state of North Carolina,” I said, giving credit
where it was due. Then, squinching my eyes at both of them, I said, “Sam, did you and Binkie know this all along?”

“Sure we did,” Binkie said. “But I was afraid Dr. Fowler or somebody else might’ve known it, too.”

“Well, this beats all,” Deputy Bates said, his arm firmly around Binkie by now. He seemed almost as happy as I was beginning to feel.

“But, Julia,” Sam said, “you weren’t really concerned about anything, were you? You could always come live with me, you know.”

“I know no such thing.” And he wouldn’t offer such a thing if he’d known my suspected condition.

“Aw, you know I’d take care of you.”

“Sam Murdoch, let me tell you something right now. I don’t need you or any other man to take care of me. I can do that well enough by myself. And I can do it even better with the help of Little Lloyd and Hazel Marie, if they’re willing. I think this house is big enough for the three of us. And Deputy Bates, and Binkie, too, if she wants.”

“An’ me, too,” Lillian said.

“Yes, you, too, Miss Lillian,” Little Lloyd said, so happy I was afraid he was going to start flailing those skinny arms around again.

“Praise God,” Hazel Marie said, smiling so wide that the two-toothed gap was open for viewing.

We’d have to get that fixed, along with several other things before too long. One of the first things, in case Pastor Ledbetter’d been halfway right, would have to be getting myself straightened out. Even if it meant going to Switzerland or Sweden or wherever they have those quick-change clinics. I’d make a list of all we needed to do, and Hazel Marie and I could spend some time spending Wesley Lloyd’s money. He’d always thought he’d take it with him, but it was ours now and I knew
we’d put it to better use than he ever had. And enjoy it more, too.

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