Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Havig, Chautona

  Any hope of a pleasant visit vanished. Mrs. Stuart took command from the second she crossed the threshold. She dispatched the older children to their quarters to change from their dress clothes and into “suitable Sunday afternoon attire.” She narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow at the sight of the mixed up shoe and sock situation. Ian’s lack of shoes almost sent her into a tirade, but Kenzie’s dress, now splotched with glue from a Sunday school project, distracted her.

  She launched into a speech about appropriate attire and being neat and clean at all times. “Their filthy clothes show me that you are not taking your responsibilities seriously, Agathena.” Aggie couldn’t imagine calling a spot of glue on a five-year-old’s dress dirty, but what could an inexperienced young whippersnapper like herself know about these things anyway?

  The stalwart grandmother surveyed Aggie and the children with disdain. Aggie wore a broomstick skirt and a long sleeved peasant blouse. The simple outfit suited Aggie’s taste and personality to perfection. Her hair hung past her shoulders, slightly tousled by Ian’s curious hands. To Geraldine, she looked like a hippie.

  “Agathena Milliken! Wearing combat boots to church? What kind of example do you think you’re setting by doing something so outlandish?”

  Aggie stared at her shoes and waited for the offending boots to materialize on her feet. She blinked. The shoes remained in place. Suddenly, her laughter rang through the entryway. Geraldine’s eyes narrowed in anger.

  “Oh, Mrs. Stuart! These aren’t combat boots. These are Doc Martens! Absolutely everyone on campus wears them. They’re the most comfortable things; you should try them!”

  As Geraldine droned, eloquently but obnoxiously, about the importance of making a good impression with words, actions, and attire, Aggie did her own mental survey of the woman opposite her. Standing perfectly erect, and with excellent elocution, Geraldine’s lecture was far from the awe-inspiring report she desired. She heard little of what Mrs. Stuart said. She didn’t notice the expensive suit or her perfectly coiffed hair. The jewelry that spoke of old wealth went unnoticed. These things were clearly important to Geraldine Stuart. She saw only the lack of life and warmth in the older woman’s eyes. They reminded her of the pictures of the British guard in front of Buckingham Palace, living, yet not alive.

  “Aggie, we have a few things to discuss, and I intend to check on how the children are doing before I return home. However, they appear to be hungry. Please hurry with their lunch.”

  A quick rummage in the fridge and pantry showed the raw materials for lunchmeat sandwiches, chips, and fruit. Though certain to be inadequate by Mrs. Stuart’s standards, she was happy that none of the ingredients were frozen or needed the use of the microwave for their preparation. While she slapped mayo and mustard on whole wheat bread, irritation showing with every swish of the knife, Vannie and Laird hustled out of their church clothes and into more comfortable and casual attire.

  She grabbed for a clean washcloth to wipe the counter and found nothing. Empty drawers and baskets mocked her effort to clean up after herself. She thundered down the loud steps to the basement, hoping to find a basket of clean kitchen linens on or in the dryer. Freshly-laundered and outgrown clothing covered the floor of the basement in heaps. Aggie had forgotten about everything in her relief to have clean laundry. Mrs. Gantry would pick up what Aggie didn’t want to save and take it to the thrift store on Wednesday. She shook her head slightly. “Stay on task, Aggie. Find a kitchen cloth and some dry towels.”

  With an arm full of towels and washcloths, Aggie moved toward the stairs. Mrs. Stuart stood at the foot of the steps, coldly surveying the room with obvious displeasure. “Agathena, this room alone should show you that caring for these children is much too much responsibility for you, and Alanna had no business requesting that you be the children’s guardian. I am appalled that Douglas stood for it, but I can assure you I will not.”

  Mrs. Stuart stopped Aggie’s attempt at a reply before she could utter a word. “Let me finish.” Shoulders slumped, Aggie squeezed into a nearby child-sized rocking chair.

  “My lawyer has the paperwork prepared and ready to submit to the court. Agathena, if you do not agree immediately to relinquish guardianship of these children to Douglas and me, then we will file the papers tomorrow. Furthermore, I want you out of this house before you do any more damage. This basement is littered with laundry, and you have ruined the hallway with your disgusting ball apparatus. You do not have the financial resources to fight us, regardless of the inheritance Douglas and Alanna left for you.”

  Geraldine Stuart’s face looked as if chiseled in marble. Aggie considered a response but decided that it was foolish. Geraldine would not listen. The woman had no idea of the amount of insurance her son and Allie had left. She had no idea how strongly they had insisted that the children were to go into foster care rather than allowing Doug’s parents to assume custody of them. One thing Aggie did know; she was both going to have to move quickly.

  Resigned to the ugliness that would follow, Aggie stood, shifted the towels, and moved past Geraldine on the stairs. “Do what you must, but I will honor my sister’s and your son’s wishes. I am sorry you feel obligated to disregard them. As to the house, we’ll be out as soon as I can move us. Until then, I’ll have to ask that you refrain from coming by or calling. I didn’t want to do this; but if I have to, I’ll get a restraining order.”

  Geraldine was stunned into silence by Aggie’s uncharacteristic assertiveness. She seethed as she ascended the stairs, fiercely humming the hymn, “Angry Words.” As she entered the kitchen, Tavish heard her almost biting out the line, “May the heart’s best impulse ever, check them e’er they soil the lip,” and wondered at the reason. Moments later, he saw his grandmother climbing the stairs with a grim look on her face that told the young boy more than any child should understand.

  Later that evening, Aggie decided to get some perspective. She turned on the computer and quickly signed into her instant messenger account. Her shoulders relaxed and tension began to ease even before clicking on Tina’s name.

  Aggie says: Oh, Tina, this is so hard. Are you sure I can do this?

  Tina says: Déjà vous… didn’t we discuss this yesterday? If I remember right, the Word says that He won’t give us more than we can endure…

  Aggie says: Well… I hope He handles Geraldine Stuart for me. Eight children are enough work without adding in a temperamental, selfish, old woman!!!

  Tina says: Uh oh… what happened?

  Aggie says: Well, for starters, she hates me. Secondly, I hate her.

  Tina says: Whoa there… Do you really? Do you really want to be guilty of murder?

  Aggie says: Sigh. I guess not. I’m just scared. What if she can get custody of the children? Doug and Allie didn’t want that, and here I am staring at that very possibility.

  Tina says: Well, didn’t your dad say that the court, prior to their deaths, approved the guardianship papers? I mean wasn’t your sister pretty Type A about stuff like that?

  Aggie says: Well, they are supposed to be settled… I just know that she’s fighting me tooth and nail. This woman thinks I am completely incompetent.

  Tina says: Oh, Aggie…

  Aggie says: I am just afraid she might be right. And even if she isn’t, I can’t afford to fight her.

  Tina says: I thought there was healthy life insurance and stuff.

  Aggie says: I have to make this last for twenty years. Food, school, college, clothes, the works--times 8. That’s a lot of kids and money.

  Tina says: Hee hee… Aggie? Have you ever heard of INTEREST? You are going to be fine.

  Aggie says: Things just aren’t certain, and Allie trusted me. Can you believe it? She trusted ME. After years of me thinking that she considered me incompetent to do the simplest thing, she left me her children!

  Tina says: But do you think she really thought that, or was it your insecurity seeing her as something more than she saw herself as?

  Aggie
says: What about my insecurities?

  Tina says: Did your sister really think that you were incompetent, or did you, due to some insecurity or something, assume that because you saw her as so over competent?

  Aggie says: I don’t know. I think you have a point. A strong point.

  Tina says: That’ll be one--

  Aggie says: No coffee… chamomile. Trust me; it’s tasty and not lethal to early morning slumber.

  Tina says: Gotcha. Chamomile. I can’t wait to tell the guys. Aggie without coffee. What next?

  Aggie says: It won’t last long. I’ll get desperate before too long.

  Tina says: Well, do it before I get there, will ya?

  Aggie says: Will do. LOL.

  Aggie says: Oh well, I better get back down there and find out what the munchkins are up to.

  Tina says: Ok, take care… poofs!

  Aggie says: Nighters.

  Chapter 3

  Double Trouble

  Monday, March 4th

  “Mr. Moss? This is Aggie Milliken. I am calling about the guardianship hearing. Can Geraldine Stuart gain custody of the children? She threatened to appeal yesterday. The temporary guardianship papers came so fast…” She listened for a moment and then protested, “But I thought I’d have to do all kinds of home studies and things--”

  Mr. Moss heard the gentle tone of her voice strained with emotion and reassured her that everything was in order. “However, Aggie, I would recommend that you consider a new home for you and the children.”

  For the next few minutes, the lawyer explained his recommendation for the sale of the Stuart family home. She listened carefully and tried not to become overwhelmed at the realization of what moving would entail. Assured that there would be no custody problems, it was hard to concentrate on everything Mr. Moss discussed. The children were safe from Geraldine. That thought alone relaxed her features from the drawn, tense mask that had covered her face since she’d closed the door behind her sister’s in-laws the previous afternoon.

  Aggie’s face was pleasant and appealing, yet few outside her family thought her beautiful. She had long, straight, silky hair, a delightful smile that brightened her face, and expressive hazel eyes. Her most distinctive characteristic was the tendency to wear her thoughts on her face like a billboard. Whether happy, angry, or sad, she couldn’t hide it. Perplexing situations gave her the comical appearance of trying to read incomprehensible hieroglyphics. Nothing Aggie did in the attempt to mask her thoughts or emotions worked; her face simply refused to cooperate. Poker was not her forte.

  “Thank you, Mr. Moss, I am very relieved. I’ll be in touch with you if papers do happen to arrive, and in the meantime, I guess I’ll look into finding another home.”

  Aggie groaned as she disconnected the call. She dreaded the thought of a move for an incalculable number of reasons. Staying meant stability for the children who had already lost so much. Moving eight children and everything in their large home was sure to be a nightmare, and she knew that the expenses incurred with a move and a large house purchase would be steep.

  She stared at the phone, still in her hand, with glazed eyes for a moment before Aggie realized she was shaking. With a heavy sigh, she replaced the phone on its charging dock and moved toward the basement to start another load of laundry. The twins’ squeals barely penetrated her consciousness as she mulled the lawyer’s suggestion that Aggie put the house up for sale. His reminder to her that she had not only the right, but also the responsibility to the children to protect their inheritance pricked her conscience. Leaving the home empty would not be good for it, and if she decided to sell, the Stuarts would likely decide to purchase to “keep it in the family.” Everyone would win.

  Before she could reach the basement door, the phone rang. Aggie answered and was elated to hear that the car dealer had a van ready for her inspection. “Oh, Mr. Zeke! I will get there as soon as I can find someone to watch the little ones. It might take me a little while, but I’ll be over ASAP.”

  Her face registered surprise, then relief, before she said, “Well, if it isn’t too much trouble, you bringing it here would be wonderful. I can put the car seats in it and-- Oh, I am sorry. I tend to talk to myself when I am thinking. Do you have my address? Oh, good, I’ll see you when you get here then, and thanks, Mr. Zeke. Ok, Zeke it is. Bye!”

  Aggie hurried the children into their jackets, shoes, and socks while waiting for Zeke to arrive. After what seemed like hours, a large white van eased into the driveway. With a squeal of excitement, she rushed out front with Ian on one hip and holding Cari’s hand. Lorna followed dutifully behind her twin, as though conjoined by an invisible tether. “Ok, girls. Listen carefully. You may look for early flowers or play on the steps, but you may not step off the grass. Okay?” Somehow asking a child if it was “okay” when you weren’t giving an option, sounded foolish, but Aggie didn’t have time to think about it. The little girls sweetly nodded their heads and then skipped into the grass.

  “Good morning, Zeke! Any trouble finding us?” She hustled to meet Zeke as he ambled up the walkway.

  “Hello, missy. This is obviously the van. Let me show you what it has to offer, and then I’ll put those baby seats in, and we can take it for a spin.” Zeke smiled as he rubbed Ian’s little head.

  Tuesday, March 5th

  The next morning, a sterile white van in the driveway replaced her beloved blue convertible. It had been a difficult decision, one Aggie hadn’t wanted to make, but today her little convertible beetle sat on consignment at the dealership. The idea of having the van, the convertible, and Laird’s inherited Jaguar seemed excessive for a one-driver family.

  Aggie illogically hoped that the children would miss their bus to give her the opportunity to practice driving the new Stuartmobile. As she tied her shoes, she fought the rising panic that driving such an immense vehicle can bring. “If I never kill anyone, I’ll be thrilled,” she muttered under her breath as she stood, her shoes tied tightly enough to sever circulation in the top blood vessels of her feet.

  “Aunt Aggie, I can’t find my shoes. They’re all gone.”

  “Come on, Kenzie, we have to hurry, the bus will be here any minute!” Vannie, voice muffled by the couch she was ransacking, was determined not to miss another bus.

  “This is silly, guys. We have a van, I can drive you; let’s not get worked up over things that aren’t an issue anymore. Everyone, look for Kenzie’s shoes. Any shoes will work; we just need shoes.”

  Twenty minutes later, a sheepish Kenzie found her shoes in the freezer and put the cold shoes on her feet before dashing out the door with the other children. Aggie weighed the cost, in time and gas, of driving the children to school each day with the extra time they’d have at home. The children spent almost an hour and a half every day sitting on the bus.

  “Ok, Vannie and Laird, out you go! Come home on the bus. I’ll see you then. Have a good day!” Aggie waved and watched as her eldest charges entered the throng of students flooding the entryway to Jefferson Middle School.

  “Ok, you three,” she called to Tavish, Ellie, and Kenzie. “Next stop, Westbury Elementary.”

  “Can you pick us up after school and take me to get the stuff for my science project, Aunt Aggie?” Tavish’s eager voice melted Aggie’s heart. She tried to think of any request he’d made of her in the last three weeks, with no success.

  “I’ll be here at two-thirty on the dot. Be ready.”

  Aggie mapped an alternate route home after ensuring her youngest scholars were safely delivered to their school. She had a list of a dozen possible houses and was determined to eliminate at least half of them before returning home. Aggie’s concern was unfounded. After two hours of driving to each home on her list and peeking through the windows on several empty ones, her options were nil. Every house on her list was completely unsuitable.

  “What a wash. That was an absolute waste of time and refined petroleum products,” she muttered to Ian as she unbuckled him from his car sea
t. “Is everyone asking double the reasonable price for a house? Every one of those houses was tiny-- and the bedrooms! They were ridiculously small!”

  * * *

  Aggie waited impatiently for Tina to answer her cell phone, but Tina’s trademarked, “Hello, hello, hello!” relaxed her features into a characteristic smile. In a robotic, mechanical-sounding monotone Aggie responded, “Help me. I am in need of immense amounts of your wisdom. Teach me, Tina.”

  “It must be bad if you’re resorting to Riotous Robots!”

  Aggie laughed at the memory of the pathetic science fiction movie they’d been obsessed with as young teenagers. “Well, bad isn’t quite right, but it is perplexing that there are no houses in the Rockland area that are realistically priced and large enough for all us.”

  Moments later, Aggie was zipping along the information super highway in search of a suitable home. She scoured several realtor websites, but to no avail. Grabbing the phone, she punched the “redial” button then hung up abruptly and clicked the instant messenger icon on her desktop instead.

  Tina says: Broaden the area that you’ll agree to live in. Change that to say within 5 miles, then 10, then 20 then 100 if necessary.

  Aggie says: You think? Leave the town?

  Tina says: If they are going to be uprooted, make it a place YOU want to live and are comfortable living in.

  Aggie says: Even as far as say… closer to mom and dad?

  Tina says: Now you are talking! Why don’t you just say the whole state? Your parents are in the center, so pretty much anywhere would be the same distance you are now.