29 #shitshow

 

“So, how’d the will thing go?”

 

Teddi stiffened ever-so-slightly at the casual question and reached for her pendant. 

 

If she was the one pouring the wine, it would’ve ended up all over the island’s marble countertop.  Fortunately, Jon was playing bartender, so there was no loss of fermented life.  Every drop ended up in the stemless wineglasses, and she would soon take advantage that good fortune.

 

“Put down the necklace,” he scolded softly, sliding a glass in her direction.  “Whatever happened, it’s over.  We’re just passing time by talking about it during the afterglow and wine portion of our evening.”

 

“Sipping wine and killing time?”

 

“I already used that one this week.  You’re gonna have to step up your lyric game to hang with me, Cookie.  Speaking of…”  A spark of hope lit the eyes darting toward the freezer.  “Got any kippers left?”

 

Teddi dropped the pendant with a smile, amused by his boyish fascination with cookies.  He really was endearing when he wasn’t being a stubborn ass.

 

Don’t disparage the man when he makes every orgasm better than the last. 

 

Touché. 

 

“How about some real food first?” she suggested while ducking into the freezer for the last packet of treats.  “It will give these time to defrost.”

 

“Nah.  I’ll just wait for the cookies.  But if you haven’t had dinner yet, by all means…” His glass lifted with the encouragement to do as she pleased.

 

Still in turmoil from the family time, she’d been uninterested in eating before the airport and the flight was too short for anything.  She’d been in a hurry to see Jon afterward, refusing to let anyone come inside when Stef dropped her at home.  Maggie was still in the middle of telling him and Cat about the great Peabody adventure when Teddi scarcely waited for the truck to stop moving before leaping out with a rushed, “Thank you for the ride.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”   

 

As a matter of fact, just thinking of the Peabody adventure unsettled Teddi’s stomach enough to again reject the idea of food.  Cookies would be fine.

 

With the hem of her casual summer dress tickling her knees, she turned to open an upper cabinet.  The distraction of daintily clattering dishes made it easier to confess, “The will reading was a shit show, since you asked.”

 

“That bad, huh?”

 

She turned without making eye contact, placing the white china plate on the countertop beside him and reaching for the freezer bag.  “My grandmother would’ve been appalled.  If rolling over in one’s grave was a real thing, today was the day for it.”

 

“Well, hell.  With that kind of teaser, don’t keep me in suspense.”

 

A quick glance confirmed that the statement wasn’t as flippant as it first seemed.  Genuine interest glittered in pupils that were trained on her instead of the sugary display she was building.  For Jon to ignore the vanillekipferl that he found so enamoring….  Teddi unexpectedly found herself compelled to share all the sordid details. 

 

She picked up the treat tray and her glass, tipping her head toward the family room and illuminated deck beyond.  “Grab the wine and follow me.  The evening air will make the stench of this story more bearable.”

 

Once they assumed adjacent rattan chairs, Teddi tucked one foot between her bottom and the cushion while the other was propped on the edge of the matching low table.  She brought the wineglass to rest on one knee while he snagged a cookie. 

 

“So… shit show,” Jon prompted, crossing his legs and nibbling on a corner of the crescent that had to still be frozen.

 

”Yes.”  Thank God for alcohol and orgasms.  They would keep her alive during this next phase of life.  “You remember my cousins from the Cuban restaurant?”

 

“You’re related to those people?” Powdered sugar clung to his lips, inviting Teddi to chuckle at both his incredulity and delightful imperfection. 

 

“Cousins on my mother’s side.”

 

“Ahhh.  Gypsies, then.”

 

“Yes,” she confirmed.  “Three of the four descended upon my house yesterday, having been dispatched by my other cousin.  The one you met here.”

 

“The one I owe a selfie.  She a Gypsy, too?”

 

“No.  Tori is a Peabody cousin, although also adopted, so don’t hold the blueblood against her.”

 

“Drafted blueblood.  Got it.”

 

“Anyway, I’d been ignoring unrecognized calls from Boston, because… Well, there’s no one there I want to speak to,” was her kind-yet-blunt explanation.  “Tori’s help was enlisted to get me there, and since she had other obligations, she called for reinforcements.”

 

“They all went with you?  I bet that livened things up.”

 

“Perish the thought,” Teddi shuddered and rolled her eyes toward the fading sky.  “Magdalene – Maggie – was my designated chaperone-slash-protector.”

 

“Which one was she from dinner?  Yellow blouse, red shirt or rainbow dress?”

 

“Rainbow dress, although I can’t believe you remember what they were wearing.”

 

He tossed the cookie that still wasn’t fit to eat back onto the plate and brushed sugary fingertips against his jeans with a shrug.  “It was a memorable occasion.”

 

Memorable in what way, she wondered?  It was so very tempting to ignore today in favor of pressing for more details, but it would only delay the inevitable.  Perhaps she would follow up on that later. 

 

Teddi diligently forged ahead by providing him with an overview of the attendees, followed by a brief synopsis of events leading up to the execution of the will.  He was given scant details of Deidre’s displeasure with the Governor and Teddi, the heated exchange with Maggie, Endicott’s alcoholic determination to claim the company, and Warner and Midge’s emotional distance from it all. 

 

In an effort to minimize the outrageousness, she omitted the threats of hexing and commission to a state hospital.  There was a fine line between providing all the sordid details and digressing into theatrics, which she would avoid crossing when possible.

 

“Then Whitfield arrived to play master of ceremonies,” Teddi introduced Act Three of the great Peabody adventure.  “And that’s when the show really began.”

 

“Who’s Whitfield?”

 

Accepting the refilled glass that Jon offered, she sipped before replying, “The family lawyer who has been with them since before I was adopted.  He handled all Grandmother’s affairs and assumed Randolph and Warner’s when they grew to need legal expertise.  The man must be eighty.  By all rights, he’s retired, but after holding this secret for decades, he wouldn’t be denied his moment in the spotlight.”

 

“Well, now you’ve got me really fucking curious.”

 

“I suppose it is time for the punchline of this sick joke,” she agreed with a sigh.  Would saying the words out loud for herself make them any more real? 

 

“Obviously, there were his personal belongings, which included the house, a couple of cars, some stock holdings and bank accounts.  Those will be equitably divided between Deidre and Endicott, as expected.”

 

Although “equitable” was going to be a matter of opinion.  Deidre wanted to keep the house, but before the meeting had adjourned, Endicott was on the phone with a realtor. 

 

Thinking back to the unnatural shade of purple he’d been at the time, Teddi reached for her necklace.  She hadn’t yet had time to grasp it when Jon intercepted her hand and firmly folded it into his. 

 

“You don’t need that,” he asserted with quiet confidence.

 

He was right.  She didn’t.  Not when their fingers were intertwined and resting on the arm of her chair.  She focused on the pressure of his palm against hers and welcomed the peace that came with it. 

 

Magic.

 

With a faint smile, Teddi noted, “It’s bothersome that you’re more effective than pills.  My pharmacy isn’t able to fill a JBJ prescription when I need a refill.”

 

“I’m here now.”

 

“A fact for which I am quite glad,” she acknowledged with the understanding that “now” was the only thing promised.  That’s why Teddi made the conscious choice to stay present in this moment rather than transporting herself back to Randolph’s office.  She didn’t need to relive the ugly scene in order to relay the events.

 

“The big-ticket item on the agenda was Peabody’s.  It was expected that ownership of the company would be divided between Deidre and Endicott, whether equitably or not.  At least, that’s what I expected.”

 

“But…?”

 

She lifted the wineglass with a deep breath, shaking her head while swallowing about half the contents.  “My grandmother had different ideas.”

 

“Your grandmother?”  The brief question held the same confusion that Teddi felt when Whitfield began his spiel.  “I guess I had the idea she was…”

 

“Dead?” she supplied helpfully.  “She is and has been for a decade.”

 

“O…kay.”

 

“Today, for the first time, we found out that our grandmother provided the initial investment capital for Peabody’s.  She, Randolph and Whitfield kept that secret for over forty years.  Randolph’s late wife may have known, too, but she obviously didn’t tell her children before she died.”

 

That much was made quite clear when Deidre screeched like a randy peacock and Endicott threw his Scotch glass at the fireplace – after draining it, of course.  Even Uncle Warner had been taken aback, and appeared to be quite annoyed. 

 

Teddi could only suppose he didn’t receive a similar multi-million-dollar investment in his life.  Then again, he’d done quite well on his own in founding a successful CPA firm.  Perhaps Grandmother hadn’t felt he needed it.

 

Or he wasn’t pathetic enough to ask.

 

Which may be one of the reasons her grandmother repetitively preached at Randolph about poor life choices.  With both of them dead, Teddi would never be certain.

 

“And?”

 

“Sorry.” She flashed an apologetic smile at Jon’s impatience.  “Apparently, Grandmother attached strings to her investment.  More like iron chains, really.  Whitfield produced a document he prepared for her in 1972 that outlined a short-yet-specific list of stipulations, which Randolph signed.  At the same time, his final will was drafted in accordance with Grandmother’s guidance to ensure those stipulations were met.  Whitfield has held both ever since.”

 

There was no need to mention that Deidre later shredded them, or her outrage when Whitfield calmly informed her that there were several electronic replicas for safekeeping.  Maggie’s snort of rude laughter hadn’t done anything but incite Deidre further. 

 

“I’ve changed my will at least three times since 1988,” Jon revealed, confusion furrowing his brow.   “How could his from 1972 still be relevant?”

 

“Much of it was written in generalities for his children and heirs of his children.  ‘The lump sum of tangible and intangible assets, including but not limited to real estate, bank accounts and personal possessions.’  The only item explicitly detailed was the division of Peabody’s.”

 

“That’s still fucked up but, since I assume we’ve arrived at the climax of the story, I’ll let it pass.  Go on.”

 

Impulse had Teddi squeezing the hand that still held hers.  For the first time in… ever, it felt good sharing something with another person.  Ironic that it was him. 

 

“Yes.  Well, Grandmother specified that Randolph would retain the company in full until his death.  At that point, ownership would revert to her – living or dead – to bequeath as she saw fit.”

 

“This oughta be good.”

 

“I don’t know that anyone views the outcome as ‘good’,” was Teddi’s rueful observation.  “Her instructions were to set aside enough capital to operate the company for two years.  Everything beyond that – ownership rights, cash and property – would be divided into three equal shares.  One for Randolph to bequeath, one for Warner, and one for… me.”

 

“His kids only inherited a third of Peabody’s?”

 

“That’s correct.”

 

“And how did that go over?”

 

“What was that charming phrase you used last night? Oh, yes.  It went over ‘like a turd in a punch bowl’.  Endicott is beyond livid at being a minority owner, and that was before Warner made his announcement.”

 

“What announcement was that?”

 

“That he wasn’t keeping his share.  He and Randolph seldom saw eye to eye, and he doesn’t care for Deidre and Endicott, so he wants no part of Peabody’s for himself.  However, he isn’t stupid enough to just hand it back, so Whitfield is preparing paperwork to transfer it to Warner’s children – Tori and her brother.”

 

“So…  If Randolph’s kids are splitting a third, and Warner’s kids are splitting a third, that means…” Denim eyes lit with realization that was brighter than the patio’s ambient glow.  “…you’re the majority owner.”

 

“You’re much kinder about arriving at that conclusion than Endicott was.”

 

“No fucking way!” her half-brother bellowed.  “I’ve worked my ass off for that company the past twenty-two years.  I’ll be damned if I’m going to hand it over to that half-breed cunt.”

 

Maggie was on her feet in a flash, fearlessly marching up to the man whose eyes practically glowed red.  “Hey!  Watch your nasty mouth, High Society.  It’s not Teddi’s fault you didn’t inherit the kingdom.”

 

“She’s quite right,” Whitfield supported as Teddi twirled her meditation ring and fought for control over the anxiety that desperately wanted to cripple her.  “This has nothing to do with Theodosia and everything to do with your grandmother.”

 

“The hell it doesn’t.  The old biddy had to always make everything an object lesson because of Theodosia.  If that dim-witted bitch hadn’t been born, I would own Peabody’s.”

 

Necessity had Teddi abandoning her anxiety just in time to prevent Maggie’s right hook from finding Endicott’s jaw.  She swallowed her fear and stepped between them in a rare display of confrontation.

 

“I did not ask to be born, Endicott,” she pointed out coldly.  “I certainly did not ask to be part of this blueblood cesspool of smoke and mirrors.  The Biharis would’ve happily raised me.  It was our Grandmother who insisted that this family owed me something.  I never wanted any of it.”

 

“Prove it!  Prove that you’re above all the petty greed and sign over your share to me, right now. You know I should have it, so show us all how virtuous you are.  Make Grandmother proud,” he sneered.

 

Deidre sighed with boredom and droned at her brother, “Oh, for God’s sake, don’t try and reason with it.  We’ll simply contest the will.  Any judge in the world would side with us when they find out Father spent fifty years denying paternity.”

 

“No!” Everyone’s eyes swung to Warner, who had kept himself detached from the ugliness until that point.  “You will not expose the secret my mother held dearest just to vindicate your greed.  I won’t stand for it.”

 

Whitfield offered with artificial sympathy, “I’m afraid it’s a moot point, as there is a clause preventing contestation.  ‘If any party does not wish to comply with the terms of this will, his/her share of the settlement will be forfeited and equally divided among the remaining heirs-‘”

 

“That’s even better,” Endicott crowed with smug triumph.  “She can just say she doesn’t want it.  Draw up the papers, Whitfield.”

 

The lawyer cleared his throat.  “I’m afraid you didn’t let me finish.  The clause goes on to say that, in the event Theodosia is the non-compliant party, her share will be sold at fair market value to the single highest bidder – who may not be one of the named heirs.”

 

“We lose controlling interest in our company to an outsider?”

 

“That is an accurate summation,” Whitfield confirmed. 

 

“Well, what about Warner?  You’re allowing him to sign over his share to Tori and Craig.”

 

“Yes, Deidre, but that’s a natural progression of ownership.  They are named as contingent heirs in the event that Warner had passed before Randolph.”

 

“I can’t believe Father didn’t discuss this with us before he died.”

 

“Really, Deidre?  You can’t believe Randolph didn’t step up and do the right thing?” Teddi had bitterly accused.  “When did he ever?  Grandmother always cleaned up his messes, and it looks to me like he let her do it one last time.”

 

“This whole thing is bullshit!”

 

Whitfield nodded subtly in Teddi’s direction, silently agreeing with her assessment before stating calmly, “Regardless of your feelings on the matter, Endicott, it is exactly as Mrs. Peabody wished it to be.  There’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Cookie?”

 

A gentle nudge transported her from Boston to Rumson, and the heat of Jon replaced the cold memories.   So much for staying present in this moment. 

 

She offered a sheepish smile of apology.  “I told myself I wouldn’t relive this afternoon, but it pulled me in, anyway.  Forgive me.  What were you saying?”

 

“I was asking if you’ll keep the company.” 

 

“I... don’t know.  Maggie thinks I should, just to torture Deidre and Endicott.  I haven’t spoken to Tori yet, but she’ll probably want the same, especially since it means the two of us can combine our torturing forces.”

 

“But what do you want?”

 

She wanted not to be part of this whole mess.  She wanted to understand why Grandmother had put her in this position.  She wanted….  She wanted….

 

There were many things she wanted, but the simplest and most pressing need was within arm’s reach. 

 

“A hug?”

 

“I can do that.”

 

Without hesitation, Jon stood to relieve her of the wineglass and tug on the hand still clasped in his.  Teddi rose at the silent command, and muscular arms enveloped her in a warm blanket of tranquility, which she shamelessly snuggled into.  Her nose pressed against the black cotton of his t-shirt, and she inhaled the scent that she would forever associate with summer.

 

“Thank you.”