Money Well Spent

I didn't notice Jim pick up the water glass Mr. Merchant used and wrap it in a napkin.

The next week (the earliest I would meet with them, costing him another week of legal bills)we all sat down again. Mr. Merchant was under strict orders not to speak, as the lawyer agreed to withdraw everything in exchange for two of the safety deposit boxes. We left.

Another week went by before we met again. My opponent was beginning to show signs of strain. The lawyer had a neat stack of paper before him, all ready for me to sign. I had my chief lawyer drop them in the waste basket. "One page, all claims relinquished by your client, in exchange for one key. He has lost the right to choose, so he gets what we say he gets. Do it, right now, or I walk and don't look back. Last chance. I'm taking my friends to lunch, so you have one hour."

We enjoyed lunch, while our opponents probably had heartburn. They were waiting for us when we got back, two copies of a single sheet on the table. My lawyer read it, nodded, and we signed. That was it, the suit was no more.

"Which one do I get?" he asked, bitterly.

"I have no idea. I didn't say I'd choose, I just said you couldn't." I opened the conference room door just as an intern or secretary walked by, surprising her by asking her in for just a second. She looked scared to death, but our attorney nodded to her, so she stepped in.

"This will only take a few minutes, and I insist on paying for your time. Will you help?"

The young woman nodded, slowly, wondering what was going on.

"All right then. Please turn your back." I put the deposit box keys on the table, over three sheets of paper I'd marked 1, 2, and 3. "Now, I have the numbers one, two, and three marked on sheets in front of us. Choose a number quickly, the first one you think of."

"Three!"

I thanked her for her time, and asked what she was doing before we pulled her in. "I was going to lunch."

"Well, enjoy yourself, and I'm sure your bosses won't fuss if you're a little late getting back. Right, Harold?"

"Take 90 minutes, Miss Andrews, please. Enjoy your lunch."

She started out the door and I stopped her. "One more thing. I told you that you would be paid for your time. How much should I give her, girls?"

Christy spoke first. "A hundred, at least. Plus you need to buy her lunch. There's a nice Ruth-Chris just around the corner."

Lindsey laughed. "Cheapskate! Five hundred, and instead of lunch make it dinner for two. I'm sure she can find someone, the restaurant is really exceptional."

Jen scoffed as the woman's eyes got bigger and bigger. "Pikers! A grand, honey, and the meal. Do it!"

Jim was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. "You know you always listen to your wife, Dean. Throw in a limo, just to make it a meal to remember."

"Done! Enjoy your lunch, Miss Andrews. A cerified check will be on your desk when you get back, and Jen will email you with the details of your transportation and dinner. Thank you again."

The poor woman was crying when she left. I'm sure her grandchildren would be hearing for years how a bunch of eccentric millionaires dragged her into a conference room for five minutes, and gave her a thousand dollars. If I were a betting man, I'd wager she would tell the tale of the limo ride and dinner while she was at it.

I turned back to the lawyer. "Give him the key. Mr. Merchant, this concludes our business. You know, if you had just come out and looked at the place, all I have would be yours now. Good luck with the key."

If looks could kill Jen would have been a very wealthy widow. He snatched the key from the table and stomped out, his lawyers in tow. Headed straight to the bank, no doubt. My lawyer told me later that the firm he used got pretty much everything that was in the box to pay their bills, so the man netted hardly anything. On the other hand, he didn't lose much either, and it was a good learning experience. We took the experience to heart, and looked in the other two boxes.

There were valuables in the first box, several hundred thousand dollar s worth of jewels, coins, and a few rare stamps. I think we were starting to get immune to wealth because it stirred no excitement in us. The second surprised us, holding nothing but a huge Bible, going back to the early 1800's. It was the Monroe family Bible, and the front sheets and most of the back ones were full of deaths and births. The last entries were made by Miss Agnes.

My grandmother, now mostly confined to a wheelchair, took a keen interest in it. I gave it to her, hoping she would get some enjoyment out of reading the records, and comfort in the actual text. She would give us detailed accounts of all Miss Agnes's predecessors, including two brothers who were in the Civil War, one on each side. They never had to face each other in battle, one was with Lee, while the other served on the Western front as an artillery officer, and was at the seige of Vicksburg. When it was over, they went back home and became partners in several very successful ventures.

Chapter 19

Something was wrong with Mom, the girls and I could feel it, as did Grace and Grandma. Sandy did too, but not as strongly as us. She seemed...nervous, for lack of a better word. We all talked to her, and it helped, a little. I was worried that maybe her time had finally come, and she was going to leave us for her well deserved rest.

"It's got something to do with the Bible. Every time I take it out I feel her hovering. It doesn't seem to make her angry, or sad, just...anxious. She won't tell me what it is. Maybe you guys can get her to tell you. Either way, I think she needs resolution on whatever is bothering her." Grandma had known pretty early on something was going on in our house, but it took four months before Miss Agnes revealed herself, in a dream. She asked us who Miss Agnes was the next day and we showed her the portrait. "That's her," she said. "I dreamed about her last night. We had a pretty deep conversation, mostly about you guys. She's an interesting woman."

Knowing wasn't accepting, and it took another few months before she came to terms with the situation. I walked into her room one day to see her staring intensely at a chessboard. "What are you doing, Grandma?"

She rolled her eyes and grinned. Jen seems to think I got my sarcastic wit directly from her. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm playing chess."

"Against yourself?"

"No, dummy, not myself. I'm playing Agnes. And let me tell you, she is very determined to win, every time. We've played eight times so far, and she's won six. Not much of a gracious loser either. She knocked the pieces across the room tghe first time I won, and I made her pick them up. I wasn't going to get on my knees, I'd never get back up."

"How do you know what moves she wants?" Grandma really did roll her eyes then.

"Well, when the piece moves from point A to point B, I'm pretty sure that's what she has in mind. Now shoo, I think I got her this time." I got a mental image of Miss Agnes concentrating, a frown creasing her forhead. She just barely acknowledged me as I walked out, grinning.

I thought about it for a while, and one Tuesday I took my bike out for a ride, the Bible in one of the saddlebags. I rode for awhile, enjoying the day, before stopping at a park and finding a picnic table in the shade. Not knowing what I was looking for, I started reading the birth, deaths, the names of the spouse they married, the children they'd brought into the world, their record of spouse and children right up to Mom's generation.

Her birth and marriage were recorded, as were the births of all her sons. She recorded the deaths of her children, a few words splotched with was what I knew to be tears. She recorded the marriage of her last son and birth of their grandson. His was the last entry in the Bible. I sighed, having found nothing of any value. I picked up the Bible and walked towards my bike, looking at it and not where I was going, so it shouldn't have surprised me when I stumbled over the tree root, but it did, and down I went, the book flying out of my hands.

I landed with a thump and did what everyone does when they do something stupid or embarrassing that doesn't involve real pain, I looked around to see if anybody saw me. It was the middle of the week and the middle of the day, so the place was deserted. I brushed myself off and picked up the Bible, inspecting it to see if it was damaged.

That's when I found it. The binding had come loose, and I could see something stuck in the flyleaf. I carefully pulled, and an old evenlope came out, from Agnes to her only grandson.

You know, I've always heard that when you experience a life altering event you either remember nothing but the event, or you remember everything. I could hear the insects around the little pond down the hill from the table, the occasional 'rummp' of a frog, the drone from the engine of the small plane that was circling above, the wind through the trees.

Most of all, I could hear the roaring in my ears as I read the letter.

"Dear Robert,

I cannot find the words to tell you how disappointed your father and I are in you. How could you? The woman was married, and yet you still seduced her. The poor woman has to be incredibly stupid or incredibly gullible, and I suspect a mixture of both. You're twenty years her senior, for Heaven's sake. Where was your honor? Did you feel any shame at all while you destroyed her marriage, when she told you she was carrying your child?

We would insist you do the right thing, but with you already being married, that would be difficult, would it not? Does your wife know? When the story gets out, how will you explain it to your ten year old son? Think he will understand?

You do not have to worry, when the woman contacted us, telling us she was carrying our grandchild, your father investigated, and when her accusations were proven, he did the right thing. He set up an account she can draw from, assuring her regular deposits will be made, more than enough to care for the child's needs. There are no words to describe how we felt when she told us there would be absolutely no contact, her husband didn't know and she was going to her grave keeping the secret. He would think it was his own child. Perhaps it's for the best.

We had considered trying to heal the breach between us and your father, he was always headstrong and belligerent, but I'm afraid what you've done puts that to rest. He was the last of our children, and we had great hopes for him, and you. It seems after half a lifetime filled with the sounds of children in a happy household, we will die alone and unmourned. If you're anything like your father, the first that comes to mind when you hear we have passed is how big the inheritance will be. Be assured, you are still blood and shall receive something, but perhaps not as much as you think.

In case you ever feel remorse, or interest in the child, I have enclosed her new address. I pray you try to behave with honor in the future, to atone for your sins from the past. I doubt we will see you again, so please, try to give my grandson a good life. Remember your own upbringing. Raise him to be a man of principle and wisdom, to uphold the Merchant name.

The letter had been returned unopened, a scrawl on the outside saying there was no one at that address related to them. It took me a minute for the name and address to sink in.

"Madeline Harwell, 2410 Oak Lane, Yarboro Ohio." I recognized the name, and the address. It was mine when I was young, my father receiving the house when my grandmother passed. I guessed now it was no accident that I had chosen to buy that particular house. I was the great grandson of Miss Agnes!

I must have spent another hour, sitting at the table and thinking, before I was composed enough to ride home. Jen and Lindsey knew something was up when they saw my face. "Later," I said, "I need a few minutes alone with Mom."

They left the living room and I stared up at the portrait for a few minutes. I could swear she looked scared. "You knew, didn't you, the first time I came into the house? I wish you would have let me know, but I also know your sense of honor wouldn't let you. That's why you've been so agitated since we brought the Bible home. I'm glad I found out, proud that your blood runs in my veins. I know you're my great grandmother, but I'll always think of you as Mom, or at least the mother I should have had. Wait until I tell the girls."

I felt very warm all of a sudden, and got a picture in my head of her standing with her arms spread wide. I must have looked mighty foolish standing in an empty room with my arms spread wide, but I could feel her hugging me, and the kisses she put on my cheek. It probably lasted no more than thirty seconds, but it was enough.

Chapter 20

The girls flipped when I told them. Jim and Chrsty just grinned. A thought crossed my mind.

"You knew, didn't you?"

Jim looked a little sheepish at first. "I suspected. You looked too much alike, and you had a lot of the same mannerisms. I slipped a water glass out of the lawyer's office and had my buddies at the Bureau run it for DNA, and compare it to a sample of yours. When they came back as a match I wrestled over what to do, and Christy told me to let sleeping dogs lie. I have to tell you, though, I lost sleep over it, and I'm glad you discovered the truth."

I nodded, seeing the wisdom of what he said. I don't think any of our friends were surprised when I took the evidence to a Judge, and asked if it was legal to change my name to Merchant. He looked at the papers and sighed. "My grandfather worked for your great grandfather as an engineer for a few years. He would often talk of him with respect. Your grandfather, not so much. He was the bad seed of the family, I'm afraid, always into things that his father had to get him out of. He finally had enough, and there was a pretty big row. He left that night, moving to the Midwest. I understand there was some kind of a scandal there, and he moved on to California. I guess now I know what the scandal was.

As for changing your name, it's a pretty easy process. People change their names for all kind of reasons. I for one will be glad to see a Merchant back in the house and the community. Get a lawyer and have him put you on the docket, and we'll go from there."

When I told Jen, she cried for an hour with happiness. Three weeks later we were in front of a Judge, and pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Dean Merchant.

Miss Agnes, if anything, was even more happy. We could hear her hum in the vents, and hear Grace and Sandy giggle often over something she had revealed to them. Lindsey and her young police officer were growing closer, and it had been months since anyone had seen anything of Gwen. Shaggy had started divorce proceedings based on desertion, and in less than ninety days he would be a single parent. He told us he felt safe enough to move back into his house. We would be sad to see them go, especially Grace, who had become a surrogate daughter to us all. Lindsey had been working on her house, and was going to finally move in, with her fiancee, Robbie. I just looked at Jen and grinned. "Looks like it's time to fill the bedrooms on our own." She grinned back. "It will happen sooner than you think. I went to the doctor yesterday, and I'm almost two months along. I wanted to be absolutely sure before I told you. And before you say anything about names, Miss Agnes agreed we could use hers. Agnes Jane Merchant, and we'll call her A.J., if that's all right."

The family celebration was epic. Sandy was due to graduate just after the birth, and already had a full golf scholarship from Duke, a noted LPGA factory. In a move that stunned the school she turned the scolarship down but asked if she could still be on the team. They loved the idea, getting the top high school player for free, able to give the scholarship to someone else on their list. Grace just hovered and promised to be the best Aunt in the history of the universe. She and Christy got into a mock argument over it, when she said she would be the best one. They settled it by saying Christy could be the best old aunt(Jim had to stifle a snicker over that), and she would be the best young one. Christy was looking a little wistful, and I grinned. Jim had told me the other day he had contacted a few agencies about becoming foster parents, with an end game of adoption.

Gram was smiling, something that was rare these days. Her health was to the point where we had a visiting nurse in three times a week, and the girls hovered when she wasn't there. The doctors told us privately that she would be gone before the year was out. She was spending a lot of time talking to Miss Agnes. I think she was getting her ready to go.

We were moving on. Jen's family came in, staying in Lindseys' house, to share the joy. Her mother almost smothered me when she got hold of me. "Congratulations," she said, once she let me breathe. "The best thing that ever happened to this family was you marrying our daughter. You don't know what it means to us when you gave the girls the money to make it through four years of college without worry, as a birthday present. They're looking right now, even though they have two years to make up their minds. I'm pretty sure they're going to different schools, to get away from the twin identity. Joe doesn't know what to say about you picking up the last two years after he graduated from community college, but he is very grateful."

"You can stop embarrassing me now. You're my family, the only one I've got. How could I turn my back, especially when the money wasn't an issue? Besides, Jen would have killed me if we didn't help. Quite a girl you raised there, Mom. If they all turn out anywhere close to her, you may not have a lot of money, but you'll have an embarassment of riches in your family."

She hugged me again, sniffling.

They left, but five months later Mom was back, and would stay until the baby arrived. The kids would be out of school in two weeks, and then the rest of the clan would arrive.

I admit it. We let down our guard. The gate was hardly ever closed now, and the security teams had departed. Jim and Christy found a house five blocks over, and moved there with the foster daughter they had taken in. She was fourteen, a victim of abuse and neglect, and extremely nervous in crowds. It took her four months to relax, and soon she was following Sandy around, the big sister she never had. Grace declared herself a little sister, and she often stayed with them. Andrea was smitten with Anne and Jan, and when they arrived it seemed like my pool was always full of giggling girls, followed soon by boys. I watched them like a hawk, and Jen laughed. "What are you going to do when your own daughter grows up?"

I didn't like the idea the least little bit. Daughters were supposed to stay young forever, and love their daddies. "Well by the time that happens, I hope there will be a few more for me to concentrate on." That got me an extra nice kiss.

We did another documentary, this one about lost children and the state of the social system that let bad things happen to children. The numbers were staggering, and it upset Jen for days. Whenever she got upset, I would rub her tummy, and feel little A.J. kick. It calmed her. We donated all the proceeds from the film to children's shelters and private, non-profit agencies trying to stem the tide.

Shaggy, after the divorce went through, finally started dating. He met a really nice woman through our work with children's agencies, impressed with his success as a single parent. She had a little boy, and soon they were having blended family outings. It was the most we had seen him smile in a very long time. Grace really liked her, and Sandy thought she was nice, but she was going away to college and didn't have time to bond as closely as she would have liked. Shaggy brought them over to meet us, and let Mom check them out. She must have approved, because the boy and Grace disappeared upstairs, and came down lugging a croquet set. We had to set it up on the lawn, so they could play, and while we watched and Shaggy and I manned the grill. They had a ball, making up the rules as they went along. They fell asleep snuggled to each other, and Harriet had tears in her eyes as she looked at them. I got a feeling she would be around for a long, long time.