and the girls were right behind him.
Charles was opening the car door for Beatrice, and he said, “Your mother has had a rough time, so don’t pester her. You can help me unload, Tim.” He put his arms around Cleta and Allison and gave them a hug. “We’ve missed you. Has everything been all right here?”
“Yes,” Allison said in her low, melodious voice, “but we’re happy you’re home.” Charles Sayre was a brawny man, jovial and friendly, always ready to listen to his children’s problems. Allison had missed him.
Beatrice greeted her children with a slight, sad-faced smile. “Mother,” Allison said. “I’m sorry it’s been a sad experience for you.” She put an arm around her mother, who was standing as rigid as a statue.
“He was my only brother. What else would you expect?”
Allison gasped, for never before had her mother been so curt with her. It was almost as if Allison had done something to annoy Beatrice. How could that be? She hadn’t seen her for a week.
Beatrice turned abruptly and walked into the house, passed through the kitchen and into the living room. Again Allison was stunned. It wasn’t like her mother not to comment on the tidiness of the house. The three siblings had always worked hard to earn their mother’s praise, and the house looked as neat as it had when their parents had left. Beatrice Sayre was the dominant personality of the family, and although she could be tender and understanding in times of distress, she exerted a rigid discipline over her children. Charles made the money, but Beatrice managed their finances so that the family lived comfortably.
Charles was laughing when he followed Cleta and Tim into the living room. They struggled with the luggage, and he carried a large plastic bag, out of which he pulled three teddy bears. “Here, I brought you some presents from Columbus.”
Cleta squealed and grabbed the white bear with a red ribbon around its neck.
“Aw, Dad, I’m too big for a teddy bear,” Tim said, but he picked up the large brown bear.
Smiling, Allison said, “Looks like I’m left with the black one. Thanks a lot, Dad.” She didn’t want to dim her father’s joy by not being appreciative, but she was concerned about Beatrice’s attitude. What had happened in Columbus to distress her mother? How could she be mourning for a brother with whom she’d had so little contact for years?
Tucking the brown bear under his arm, Tim said, “The bear is nice, Dad, but I’m interested in other things. Give us the scoop. How much did we get?”
Charles dropped his head, refusing to look at his children. Beatrice stared at the floor, her face ashen, so it was easy to guess from their dismay that the Sayres hadn’t been mentioned in the will. Cleta and Tim certainly looked woebegone, but Allison wasn’t surprised. Was she the only one in the family who hadn’t expected a windfall? Crushed as she had been by Donald’s perfidy, Allison hadn’t given any thought to Uncle Harrison’s illness and his subsequent death.
With a sigh, Beatrice fastened her eyes on her son. “You didn’t get anything!” She pulled a large envelope from her purse. “According to Harrison’s lawyer, with the exception of a few bequests to some of his employees, my brother bequeathed his entire estate to Allison. He gave us a copy of the will.” She started to hand the document to Allison, but Tim grabbed it from his mother’s hand.
“But why Allison? Why her and not me?”
Charles took the will from Tim and gave it to Allison, whose hand was shaking so badly she couldn’t hold the envelope and it dropped to the floor.
“Harrison must have had his reasons, but he didn’t choose to tell us. Stop being selfish and congratulate your sister for her good fortune,” Charles said.
“Well, if I can’t have it, I’m glad that he chose Allison instead of Cleta. You’ll divide with me, won’t you, Allison? Cleta never would. How much is his estate worth?”
“We don’t know. Since neither Beatrice nor I was named in the will, we had no right to inquire. Harrison’s lawyer did give us that copy of the will, but Allison will have to go to Columbus to find out all the details.”
Allison felt as if she were observing the scene in their living room from another sphere. Beatrice looked as though she would burst into tears at any minute, and that troubled Allison. Had Beatrice herself expected the money? Charles watched his wife with anxious eyes. Tim wore a petulant expression. A broad smile brightened Cleta’s face.
After Allison’s first wave of surprise passed, an excitement started building within, and she picked up the envelope, opened it and began to read the will, noting immediately that the document had been validated three years ago on her twenty-first birthday.
“Isn’t that a coincidence!” she exclaimed. “Signed on my birthday. Uncle Harrison couldn’t have known that.”
No one answered, and she continued to read. After she passed the introductory legal jargon, the wording was very simple. Five people were listed for bequests based on a percentage of Harrison’s total estate, with the balance to be given to “my niece Allison Sayre.” This balance included the Page Publishing Company, a home in Victorian Village and whatever investments and securities Harrison owned at the time of his death.
“Oh, this is great,” Allison said. “Just this morning, I prayed for God to give new direction to my life, and here it is, offered to me on a silver platter.”
“I don’t want you to take it,” Beatrice said quietly.
Her family stared at her, speechless, and Charles was the first to find his voice.
“Not take it?” he shouted. “Why would you want Allison to turn down an estate that might be worth several million dollars?”
Beatrice regarded her husband in amazement. “Charles, think a minute. It’s the only sane solution.”
“Mother,” Allison said, “why can’t you be happy for me? Ever since Donald married and started bringing his wife next door, I’ve been miserable here in Chicago. This will give me something else to think about. Are you disappointed because he didn’t name you in the will?”
“I didn’t expect anything from Harrison, but I don’t like the idea that he favored you over the other children. That isn’t fair. Besides, you’re not mature enough to take over his estate.”
“I’m not a child anymore, and I’ve had some experience in the publishing business. Perhaps that’s the reason he chose me.”
Cleta spoke for the first time. “I think you should take it. If the money had been left to me, I’d rush out of here for Columbus so fast you couldn’t stop me. Not take a few million dollars! Mother, you must be joking.”
“We’ve tried to teach you children that money isn’t everything, but if you’re determined to accept it, Allison, then promise me that you’ll liquidate it the minute the estate comes into your possession. I don’t want you to go to Columbus.”
Trying to think of a way to answer her mother, Allison hesitated as she glanced through the document again. She read the names of the others that Harrison Page had listed: Celestine Handley, Adra and Minerva McRamey, Thomas Curnutt and Benton Lockhart.
Benton Lockhart! Surely not the Benton Lockhart she had once known and had never forgotten. A photo of that dynamic young man had brought him to mind today, and here was something else to evoke his memory. Seeing that name convinced Allison that she would definitely go to Columbus and at least find out what was involved in accepting Harrison’s property.
“That’s a promise I can’t make right now, Mother. I must go to Columbus and find out what is involved. Maybe I won’t want to live there, but I have to find out for myself. Will you go with me to investigate? I don’t want to go alone.”
Beatrice stood, and her visage was stony. “No, I won’t go with you. This move may very well ruin your life, and I won’t be a party to having you wreck the life-style