"No."
“In that case, we can arrange to liquidate the shop and sell the property. If you wish, we can also put the other properties on the market. My client's Will must be probated, a process that customarily takes at least a year to conclude, but it would be advisable to take care of these details now."
"Thank you, yes," I said. "Arrange to sell Toby's properties." I watched Miss Wick's pen dance over her notebook.
"Fast cars," Clark said. "A big house. French champagne and buxom girlfriends. You know what they say about a fool and newfound wealth. If you were to let me handle that money, you might have a chance of coming out of this with a few cents in your pocket."
"Uncle Clark," I said, “I have to think about what I'm going to do, and I wish you'd all shut up for a second."
“I have to speak from my heart," Nettie said, not to me but to the air in front of her, like Clark. “I have to say one little, tiny thing, or it will magnify itself into a great burden and weigh on me forever. Mr. Toby Kraft married our beloved sister. Although he took Queenie from us, we never failed to welcome him into our homes. When our sister passed away, Mr. Toby Kraft remained a member of our family circle. You could say, he even became a pest. Toby Kraft was in the habit of dropping in uninvited and staying for dinner, and for the sake of my dear sister's memory I prepared a whole lot more meals for that man than I ever felt like cooking, and the same is true of my sister May. If you were to add up the costs of all the times Toby had the pleasure of a home-cooked dinner, it would come into the thousands of dollars, all out of Christian charity. That old crook never gave any signs of having a fortune squirreled away, did he, May?"
"He did not," May said.
"To look at the man, he barely had two nickels to rub together. Wore the ugliest clothes you ever saw in your life. He was a drinker, as we knew, and a scoundrel, on top of all that whiskey. But we gave him our love, because we knew no other way. That is the kind of people we are."
C. Clayton Creech looked at her in undisguised admiration.
"Neddie," May said, "think what your mother would do."
“I am thinking of what my mother would have done," I said. "Mr. Creech, I'd like you to draw up an agreement dividing Mr. Kraft's estate into four equal parts. One for Aunt Nettie, one for Aunt May, another for my Aunt Joy, and the last for me."
"Do you want to sleep on it for a night?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Are the death benefits from the insurance policies to be included in the division of the estate?"
"Yes," I said. "How much would each share come to?"
Creech took a notebook from a desk drawer and lit a Lucky Strike from the pack on his desk. "Are we keeping up with these developments, Miss Wick?"
Miss Wick assured him that the developments were being entered into the record.
Creech bent over the notebook and exhaled a substantial plume of smoke. "We have five hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars in cash on hand. Add to that the probable value of the real estate holdings and the insurance benefits, and we have one million, nine hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. A one-quarter share of Mr. Dunstan's inheritance comes to four hundred and eighty-one thousand dollars, more or less."
"Draw up the papers," I said. "Toby left the money to my mother, and I know she would have shared it with her aunts."
"Your decision is final," Creech said.
"You heard the boy, Creech," Clark said. "Get hopping."
May looked at me again. "You know, Joy doesn't need all that money. And Neddie, four hundred and eighty-one thousand dollars sounds like an awful lot to give to a young fellow who has his whole life in front of him."
I smiled at her. "You're right. Mr. Creech, I want to donate twenty thousand dollars from my share of the insurance benefits to a woman named Suki Teeter."
"Could you spell that name for me?" Miss Wick asked.
I spelled Suki's name. "She's at the Riverrun gallery on Archer Street, in College Park."
"That's all I require," Creech said. "Would you like me to inform Ms. Teeter of her good fortune?"
"Please."
Nettie glared. "You're giving money to that Suki?"
"Star would have," I said. “I saw Suki Teeter the other day, and she needs the money. If you think I shouldn't do things like that, I could always keep everything for myself. Which would be . . . ?" I glanced at C. Clayton Creech.
"One million, nine hundred twenty-five thousand dollars." His delivery made it sound like what you would spend to get into a movie and pick up a medium-sized container of popcorn.
"Suki was a dear friend to Star," Nettie said. "Your mother would be proud of you. I knew you had a good heart."
Creech suggested attaching to my gifts the condition that all funds remaining be returned to me upon the death of the recipients, and Nettie said, “I don't plan on leaving any money to the Red Cross or museums about Nazis. Draw it up and get probate cracking. I want a gas range with two ovens and a griddle, the kind they have in restaurants, and I'd like to get it before they plant me in the ground." When we all stood up, Creech asked me to come back at 5:30 to sign the papers.
Downstairs, I opened the front door of the townhouse onto a burst of sunlight and a shimmer of green.
Clark wobbled down the steps with the hint of a strut. Nettie and May filed out into the brightness of Paddlewheel Road, and I came down behind them. The Buick gleamed from a parking meter two spaces from Commercial Avenue. A feeling of unreality clung to me. I had given away about a million and a half dollars.
Clark inspected the sleeves of his jacket. "Seems to me I'm in danger of falling a little bit behind the current styles. How much are we supposed to get from Toby?"
"Four hundred and eighty thousand," Nettie said.
“It isn't that much, considered in the cold light of day. You couldn't say that a man with four hundred and eighty thousand dollars in the bank is a man of wealth, so don't start putting us in that category."
“I want a big gas range with a griddle," Nettie said. "And I'm going to get one, no matter what category we're in."
"Do you know what I'd like?" May said. "A home entertainment center and a satellite dish, instead of my no-good little TV that only gets three stations."
"We can both have one," Nettie said. "But I can't get over the idea it's wrong to pay for a frivolity like that."
"We don't have topay for our home entertainment centers," May said. “I'd just like one, that's all."
"New clothes," Clark said. "The day we get that first check, I'm going into Lyall's and coming outclean. Then I'll stroll over to the Speedway and buy Cassie a double Johnnie Walker Black in honor of old Toby, God rest his soul."
"Clark," I said. "There's something you should know."
"Toby Kraft will rest easier now," May said. “I have always said that in spite of his faults, Toby was a very loyal man."
I said, "Clark, this morning—"
Nettie broke in. "Since he did not wish us to aggravate our grief, we should honor his wishes and let him have the dignified burial he requested. Reverend Swing is officiating at Star's burial, Neddie. Reverend Swing is famous for his funerals."
“I'm sure I'll love Reverend Swing," I said. "But I have to tell Clark—"
"You don't want to go against the last wishes of a dying man," Clark broke in.
"Clark,"I said, too loudly. "You won't be buying any drinks for Cassie Little."