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“Seriously Phil, are you trying to ruin me?” I mutter to myself. “Putting the rumored mistress at the same table as the wife and husband?”
The only thing people will talk about is the scandal and not our fantastic event; and you can bet your bottom dollar we wouldn’t get any recommendations for future events from anyone at that table.
Maybe I should put Tilly in the back.
Just as I'm about to tell Lisa to do just that, my cell phone rings again. I look at the number and frown, the zip code is from Maine. Curious as to who’s calling me, I answer.
“Hello?” I say into the phone, my eyes catching an issue with one of the floral arrangements that wasn’t going to work. Placing my hand over the phone, I looked towards Lisa. “Lisa, I need the hydrangeas at table twelve to have a bit more volume; see what you can do.”
“Hello, hello,” the voice at the other end calls out. “Hello, Ms. Bennett, I'm Macy Dorman calling from the law office of Sutton and Sons. I've been trying to reach you for a while now. I don’t know if you heard, but Mrs. Kendall has passed,” she tells me and waits for my response.
The news was something I wasn’t expecting, I hadn’t even thought of Mrs. Kendall as of late but hearing that she passed was a blow to my system regardless. Pulling out one of the dining chairs I lowered myself into it trying to wrap my mind around the call, and the news.
“No, I didn't know. What happened? Was she sick? Did she...”
The woman interrupts me. “She died peacefully and of natural causes, according to the report.”
“Okay…when is the funeral?” I ask, considering that making an effort to go might be best despite my busy schedule.
“There was no service.” She bit out, the person’s voice laced with irritation. “She asked to be cremated without fanfare. Now, as I said, I have been calling you for a while and left numerous messages.”
I cringe. This is my personal phone, and I don't check my messages. If she had called the office and left a message, she would have gotten to me sooner.
“Mrs. Kendall has left a will and has requested that I gather a specific group of individuals for the reading. It was also her request that this reading not take place unless all parties are in attendance, at the same time.” She continues without pause.
I stop her there. “A will? I’m not a relative of hers–why would I be in her will?”
“Family or not, you are named. Now as I said, I've been trying to reach you for a while. All the other parties have agreed that they are available tomorrow. Do you think you can be present for the reading then?”
She is asking and telling me all at once. The promise of irritation is evident in her voice if I refuse and she has to reschedule another date.
“Umm, yes. Yes, I can make it for tomorrow.”
“That is wonderful. Please do not discuss this with anyone else until the meeting tomorrow.” Her tone changes from sour to sweet as honey now that she doesn’t have to do more work rescheduling.
The moment the call ends, I take a second to gather my thoughts. Why was I in Mrs. Kendall’s will? Yeah, I played in her yard as a kid growing up even until high school. But putting me in her will was just strange. Slowly, my mind tried to process and absorb the information I was told before I reluctantly dialed my mother’s number.
The idea to visit Willowcreek again and see my old friends excited me, but I wish it was under better circumstances. And that wasn’t the only problem, Mom will want me to go see Dad, and I’m not in the mood for that old argument.
My mom picks up on the second ring, her cheerful voice echoing in the phone as I let out an exhausted breath. “Mom, Mrs. Kendall died,” I say, not bothering with a greeting.
“Oh no, she was such a sweet lady,” she breathes out, confusion in her voice. “How did you find out?”
I fill her in on the conversation with the lawyer and the request for me to be at the reading of the will tomorrow. Through all of it she listened, which was one thing I love about her.
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
Mom’s voice is filled with sympathy. “Honey, she was a big part of your childhood, as much as your dad and me. I can take over supervising the event with Philipa. You need to get yourself prepared to leave tomorrow.”
“Ok, I'll wrap up here and be ready to pass the baton when you arrive. My other teams are working on other projects right now and I don't want to call anyone in when this is pretty much set. Thanks Mom,” I’m about to hang up when she gets my attention.
“Honey, since you will be in town, this might be a good opportunity for you to go see your dad.” Her voice is cautious as she knows my dad is a sore spot with me. Though, I also know she is just trying to help—even if it isn’t helpful.
“No,” I deadpan, trying to not come off harsh but knowing full well it was.
“Relationships aren’t always simple,” she says gently, her voice softening to try and calm me. “I never blamed your father, and I hope one day you choose not to as well.”
“I’ll see you in a bit Mom.” I hang up after purposely ignoring her suggestion that I talk to my dad. I’m not about to dig up a buried past.
