Shane and Carmen: The Novelization Ch. 05

***

The next day at mid-morning, while Shane was with a customer at the John James salon. Bernie McFadden left her a message asking her to call him, because he had some business he needed to discuss with her, and if she was available, that evening would be good. Shane called him back at the lunch break and invited him to dinner, since Carol was already coming over. McFadden countered that he would take both of them out to dinner, since it was business and therefore a deductible business expense, a subject right up Shane's alley as a tax expert. Shane laughed and accepted.

McFadden dropped by at six and took them down to Malibu for dinner at BeauRivage.

"Okay, I've got some news," he told them over the Carpaccio Venezia. "I've been talking to the Platinskys and their lawyers for a few days, and they've finally authorized me to put Harvey's house up for sale. Shane, we talked about it briefly, and I know this doesn't come as a surprise. Still, it means that at some point you're going to have to move out when the new owner takes possession, whenever that will be."

"I hardly have any stuff," Shane said. "I can be out in an hour, I guess. I'll start looking around."

"Well, not so fast," McFadden said. "As you know, I'm the executor of Harvey's estate. And I've scheduled the reading of Harvey's will for this coming Friday. So theoretically I can't put the house on the market until after the will is read and the owners of it, whoever they may be, decide what they want to do. But of course I've read the will, and the Platinskys know that it reverts to them, and we're just anticipating what we know is going to happen. And since the will hasn't been formally read and then filed yet, I'm not technically allowed to tell you what's in it. For example, Shane, I'm not supposed to tell you that Harvey left you clear title to your pickup truck, paid off, free and clear. I'm also not supposed to tell you he also left you his Mercedes, but unfortunately that was destroyed in the crash."

Shane's eyes filled with tears and she put her fork down on the table, and lowered her head. Carol reached over and rubbed her shoulder.

"I'm also not supposed to tell you that Harvey also left you a trust fund of $100,000," McFadden said. "I'm appointed administrator of it, as part of my duties as executor of his estate, and his terms were that the money in the trust fund was to be held until such time as you come to me with a good and proper business plan for its use, such as to help you get started in some hairdressing business, something like that. If you don't ever do that, then when you turn thirty you inherit all the money in the trust fund, which will be the $100,000 plus whatever interest it has accrued between now and then, which will be ten years of interest."

McFadden stopped and gave Shane time to absorb it -- and to stop crying. Carol had her arms around her, and it took her a few minutes. Finally she blew her nose and blotted her running eye shadow.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't worry about it. Let me know when you're ready to hear some more."

"Go ahead," she said. "What else?"

"Well, here's the thing. I'm the executor, so I get to make most of the major decisions until such time as the estate is completely executed and dispersed. And that makes me in charge of what happens to Harvey's house and estate. You've still got two weeks left before you finish your hairdressing school, correct?"

Shane nodded.

"Well, then, perhaps you can help me solve a problem. I don't know how long it is going to take to sell Harvey's house. We have to wait until after the reading of the will before we can officially sign the listing papers with the real estate company I pick. Then the realtor has to list the house. That means it needs to be maintained and kept in spotless condition. There will be realtors and potential buyers visiting it over some period of time until there is an accepted and signed contract on the house. There's no way to tell how long that will be. The market is fairly good right now, but we really don't know if it'll take a month or two to sell it, or longer. Who knows, maybe it'll go in three days. Whatever. But even after there's a signed contract, which may be contingent on the sale of the purchaser's old house, Harvey's house remains in my custody until settlement, which could be a month or two or even longer after the contract is signed. As executor it is my duty to protect Harvey's major asset until such time as it is sold and turned over to the new owner, you follow? So what I need, Shane, is somebody to be the on-site caretaker of Harvey's house. Somebody who will be there as necessary to let in the appraiser and the listing realtor and anyone else they need to get the house ready for sale. I need someone to make sure the grass-cutting people come out to cut the grass, and the pool people come out to clean and maintain the pool. I need to make sure someone collects the mail. I need someone on scene to begin collecting things like Harvey's and Jack's clothing and donating it to Goodwill or the Salvation Army, or whomever. We may need to hold an auction to sell off Harvey's furniture and other possessions that the Platinskys don't want. His extensive records and CDs, and so forth."

Shane nodded. "I can be out as soon as you want," she said. "Tonight, tomorrow ... "

"No, Shane," McFadden said. "I don't want you to move out. I want to hire you to be the live-in caretaker. I want to hire you to be the contact person, and to be my on-scene representative. I need someone to sleep there every night, to make sure the place isn't vandalized, like a night watchman or a security guard. As executor, I am prepared to pay this caretaker person $100 a day to live in Harvey's house, and be my liaison, and to help with the disposal of Harvey's property and possessions in a way that Harvey himself would approve of. This salary will be paid by Harvey's estate, of course, and is a very legal and legitimate business expense incurred by the estate. I might add, since you've already been performing this duty since the day of Harvey's death, I am prepared to back-date this agreement and pay you $100 a day for every day you've already lived there and taken care of the house."

Shane stared at him, not quite comprehending. Carol was smiling, and wanted to kiss McFadden.

He reached into his suit coat pocket and brought out a check made out to Shane in the amount of $900. "Here's your back pay," he said. "So. Do you want the job, or not?"

Shane started crying again.

***

"Alice, it's Shane McCutcheon," Shane said when Alice answered her phone.

"Hey, Shane, what's up? Did you see the article? Did you like it?"

"Yes, it was great. I saw it this morning. I liked it very much. I think Harvey would have liked it, too."

"That's nice of you to say so."

"Remember our conversation? That I told you I'd explain the secret?"

"Yeah, I remember. Is that why you called?"

"Sort of. Are you doing anything Saturday morning?"

"Mmmm, no, I don't think so. Nothing special. Why?"

"Can you come by the house about 9 or 9:15?"

"I guess. What's up?

"I can't explain it, you'll just have to see it. I thought maybe you'd want to be there."

"Be where?"

"Uh, can you just trust me? But you have to promise me first you'll never tell anybody."

"Oh, shit, here we go again," Alice said. "Okay, pinky swear, I'll never tell, whatever it is."

"Cool. I'll see you Saturday morning, then?"

"Okay. Nine a.m. What's the dress code?"

"Um. Casual, I guess. Beachy casual. Whatever. You might get yoiur feet wet."

***

On Saturday morning, Shane drove them down Topanga Canyon Road to the Pacific Coast Highway and then headed west, toward Malibu. Alice, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, sat in the passenger seat of Shane's pickup, holding a cardboard box in her lap.

"When are you going to tell me what's in the box?"

Shane sighed. "It's Harvey," she said.

"Harvey? I don't understand."

"It's Harvey's ashes. In an urn. We had him cremated."

Alice looked at the box in her lap and tried to figure it all out.

"But ... but ... ."

"I know," Shane said.

"But Forest Lawn ... who ... "

"It was some guy who died of AIDS. He was an illegal immigrant, and had no money. His family had no money. His name was Hector Lopez. You were actually there at the cemetery when his family had that ceremony."

"But earlier, all those hundreds of people. You were there, you were crying. They played Amazing Grace. Who was in that casket?"

"Hector Lopez."

"But everybody thought it was Harvey?"

"That's right," Shane said. "But it was Hector Lopez."

"I'll be a muthafucka," Alice murmured. "But why?"

"Because Harvey wanted to be cremated and his ashes scattered in the Pacific. But his family, the people from New York, they wouldn't hear of it. They wanted to follow a bunch of religious rules that meant we had to ignore everything Harvey wanted."

"So you switched bodies?"

"Yes."

"And they think they buried Harvey?"

"Yes. But that was Harvey in the casket at the funeral home. So they got to pray over him there. We just split the difference after that. Half the funeral was the way they wanted it. Now, this morning, we're going to do the other half."

"Oh. Okay. But we're not exactly dressed for a funeral."

"This isn't a funeral. We're just going to scatter his ashes in the Pacific, like he wanted."

"He must have felt pretty strongly about it."

"He did." And then Shane told Alice about Jack.

***

Shane parked the car at the edge of the beach when they got to Paradise Cove, the place where Jack had swum out to sea. Carol and Vicki Saperstein were already there, and McFadden and his wife arrived a minute later, along with Matty Shepherd and Barbara Cranshaw. Philip Hauser, the president of the SoCal Pops, was there with his wife, and there were nearly a dozen of Harvey's closest friends from the philharmonic, who were in on the secret. They waited until five after ten to make sure everyone had arrived, and then they all walked down to the water's edge. They all took off their shoes, and then they all held hands in a line as they walked into the water, which was calm and smooth. Shane carried the urn in her hands, with Carol and Alice on each side of her, holding her elbows. They only went out a few feet, the ocean lapping gently at their shins.

"Goodbye, Harvey," Shane whispered. "I'll never forget what you did for me. I'll never forget ... you." She tipped the urn slightly and let some ash drop into the Pacific. She handed the urn to Carol, who said something in Hebrew and dropped a few more ashes into the water. The urn was passed down the line until it was empty.

Harvey was back together again with Jack at last.