Spring Fever

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Spring Fever Page 37

by Mary Kay Andrews


  Norris took a deep breath. His gaze fell on Sallie’s elegantly coiffed head, bowed over the trust agreement.

  “Glenn wanted the division of the trust kept confidential for that same period of time,” he said, “for reasons he did not divulge to me, but which I might guess at. It was always his intention to have the company run by his sons, Mason and Davis.”

  Davis nodded but didn’t look up, still scanning the fine print.

  “But,” Norris went on, “Since you, Sallie, were provided for quite generously through Glenn’s will, with ownership of real estate, stocks, cash, jewelry, and other real property, Glenn decided to divide ownership of Quixie amongst his children.”

  Sallie’s head shot up, and her eyes widened. “What exactly does that mean?”

  Norris coughed again. “Well, uh, the children inherit the company.”

  “Not me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me I have no ownership in my family company? No vote in how it’s run?”

  “Glenn felt,” Norris said, apologetically, “that since your commitment was to rearing your family and being active in the community, that you would not desire to be burdened at this stage in your life with ownership in the corporation.”

  “That’s crazy!” Sallie cried. “Glenn depended on my advice. I was his partner, in everything!”

  “Of course you were,” Norris said soothingly. “Nobody questions that.”

  “Apparently he did!” Sallie cried, shoving the papers away from her. “My God! I can’t believe this.”

  Davis reached over and rubbed his mother’s arm lovingly. “It’s all right, Mama. None of us will do anything about the company without your approval. You know that.”

  “Of course,” Mason echoed, looking at Pokey, who said nothing.

  “Well,” Norris said, “that, uh, leads us to the next matter. And I’m afraid this is going to be very awkward, but as trustee it’s my duty to follow through with Glenn’s wishes, to the letter.”

  “Awkward?” Pokey looked amused. “More awkward than telling Mama she’s out of running the company?

  “I’m afraid so,” Norris said, two bright spots of red blossoming high on his cheekbones. “So let’s just get to it. With the exception of the small, minority portion of stock Glenn left to you, Annajane, as his daughter-in-law, the rest of the stock is to be divided amongst the four living children of Robert Glendenning Bayless.”

  “Four?” Davis said. “What the hell?”

  It was as though a live wire had been poked directly into the skull of everyone sitting around the conference room table. Everyone, that is, but Annajane and Norris Thomas.

  “Four,” Norris said firmly. “Mason Sheppard Bayless, Davis Woodrow Bayless, Pauline ‘Pokey’ Bayless Riggs, and, er, the minor child, Sophie Ann Bayless.”

  Dead silence.

  Finally, Pokey spoke up. “Uncle Norris, I don’t understand. You’re saying Daddy left stock in the company to Sophie? We didn’t even know Sophie existed until after Daddy died. And she’s Mason’s daughter. Daddy didn’t leave stock to any of the other grandchildren, did he?”

  Davis was leafing furiously through the trust documents. “What kind of crazy shit is this? You’re saying Sophie, a five-year-old, for Christ’s sake, has a share in Quixie equal to mine? That can’t be.”

  Norris Thomas looked pleadingly at Mason, who had been strangely quiet. “Mason, you’re going to have to help me out here.”

  “Yeah,” Davis barked. “Help all of us out. Help us understand how you managed to have your illegitimate child inherit our mother’s share of the company. I wanna hear this, brother.”

  Annajane felt something inside her stir. Mason was staring at his mother, and his eyes, riveted on hers, were filled with a sadness Annajane hadn’t seen in him since that day in the emergency room, when he’d learned of his father’s death. It was as though a fog had lifted, and she could suddenly see, with crystal logic, the meaning of everything that had happened over the past five years.

  “Sophie’s not my daughter,” Mason said quietly. “Not biologically, anyway. She’s Dad’s.” He looked at Davis, and then at Pokey. “She’s our sister.” He reached across the table and took Annajane’s hand, squeezing it tightly. She squeezed it back and held on for dear life.

  48

  Every head in the room turned toward Sallie Bayless. “Mason, for God’s sake!” she cried, her face drained of blood.

  Davis jumped from his chair, fists clenched. “What the hell kind of slimy stunt are you trying to pull here? Ain’t no way Sophie is Dad’s. And I’ll tell you what, we have all had it with your high-handed tactics. Blood or no, I am fixing to give you the ass kicking you have been begging for.”

  The room was dead quiet.

  Mason looked directly at his brother. “Bring it,” he said, unblinking.

  Norris Thomas looked supremely uncomfortable. He coughed and cleared his throat and stared down at the stack of papers on the table.

  Pokey was kneeling down beside her mother, ineffectively patting Sallie’s shoulder. “Mama, did you know anything about this? About Sophie?”

  “No,” Sallie said, flinty-eyed. “And I refuse to believe it. Mason, I cannot believe you would stoop so low. To accuse your father … it’s…” She took a deep breath. “It’s an unspeakable, unforgivable lie, and I want you to take it back. This instant.”

  “Um, Sallie, everybody?”

  All heads swiveled toward Norris Thomas.

  The elderly attorney tugged at the collar of his shirt. A fine film of perspiration beaded his forehead. “Mason is telling the truth. Sophie is the legal issue of Glenn Bayless. I understand that this is a shock to all of you, as it was a shock to me. Glenn was my oldest, most trusted friend, but I assure you, there is no doubt about the child’s paternity.”

  “But, how?” Pokey asked, her voice catching.

  Norris looked beseechingly in Mason’s direction. Annajane squeezed his hand and gave him an encouraging nod.

  “Mama, I’m sorry,” he said, turning toward Sallie, his voice low. “I truly wish you wouldn’t have had to find out this way.”

  “Mason didn’t know what was in the trust agreement,” Norris said. “I gave my word to Glenn that I would keep everything in confidence until the day I disclosed the details of the settlement.”

  “Mason?” Pokey asked.

  “Dad … met this woman at a car rental place. At the Jacksonville airport. Her name was Kristy. They had an, um, relationship. And she got pregnant. With Sophie.”

  “Glenn was made aware of the pregnancy shortly before his death,” Norris volunteered. “We had already drawn up the trust mechanism some months earlier, after he’d experienced some cardiac issues.”

  “Wait,” Pokey said. She glanced over at her mother. “Daddy had heart problems before?”

  Sallie only shrugged, tight-lipped. “Of course not. Glenn was perfectly healthy, as far as I knew.”

  Norris Thomas did not contradict the widow, but it was obvious that he was working from his own set of facts.

  “Glenn came to me, at that time, and he was, naturally, quite embarrassed about the, um, child. We drew up a confidential document that would provide financial support for the child’s mother, and the child, of course. And at that time, Glenn determined that he wanted that unborn child to have an equal ownership share in the family company.”

  “Unbelievable!” Sallie cried. “He wanted some bastard to have what belonged to my children, his real family? And you went along with this lunacy, Norris?”

  “Dad would never do anything like that,” Davis said. “He would have never cheated on Mama. Never! This is the biggest cock-and-bull story I’ve ever heard.” He looked to Pokey. “Are you gonna let Mason sit there and defame your father like this?”

  “But Daddy did cheat on her,” Pokey said sadly. “Mason and I caught him, years ago. And that’s why I can believe he cheated on her again.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Davis
said fiercely. “He would never. Goddamn it, Pokey! Are you in cahoots with Mason now, too?”

  “It’s true,” Pokey said, watching her mother’s drawn face. “It was years and years ago. Mason and I went down to the house at Wrightsville Beach on the spur of the moment. Daddy was there, with a woman. I was just a kid, but even I knew what they were up to.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Davis said. “You’ve got no proof.”

  “The Chevelle,” Pokey said, blinking back tears. “Dad said he was giving it to Mason as a twenty-first-birthday gift. But it was a bribe. So he wouldn’t say anything to Mama about that girl.”

  “Not that I would have,” Mason said. “I hoped she’d never find out. About any of this.”

  “Mama?” Davis said.

  “I will not have this,” Sallie said, her voice strained. “I will not have you children dishonor your father’s memory this way. Do you two hear me? Do you?” Again, she didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to.

  Sallie fixed Norris Thomas with a withering stare. “How dare you? How dare you make these grotesque allegations about a man who is not here to defend himself? Norris, I would never have expected this of a man of your reputation.”

  “This bullshit trust won’t fly,” Davis added. “We’ll hire our own lawyers and challenge it.” He thrust out his chin aggressively in Mason’s direction. “That bastard kid of yours won’t get a nickel of Dad’s money.”

  Thomas opened the folder in front of him and brought out a single sheet of paper. “Davis, I can’t stop you from doing what you think is best. But you should know that your father was very specific about the trust agreement. I did try to convince him he might provide for his unborn child in other ways, but he was adamant that each of his children would have an equal share in Quixie. And I should also tell you that we’ve done DNA testing, and it absolutely proves that Glenn Bayless was Sophie’s father.”

  He handed the paper across to Davis, who angrily batted it to the floor.

  Thomas retrieved the paper without comment. He’d been a small-town estates and trusts lawyer for five decades. He’d witnessed more colorful dramas than this. He coughed, and his face colored slightly. “After Glenn’s death, I contacted the child’s mother, to let her know about the provisions of Glenn’s will. Unfortunately, it was the first she knew that he’d passed away.”

  Pokey winced.

  “The mother’s pregnancy was normal and seemed to be going smoothly,” Thomas went on, “but the baby was born somewhat prematurely.”

  “Sophie was in the neonatal intensive care unit at University Hospital in Jacksonville for six weeks,” Mason said. “They really weren’t sure she would make it and, even if she did, whether or not she would have lingering developmental problems.” He reached across the table and took Annajane’s hand again.

  “Norris, uh, thought that somebody in the family should be aware that this baby, our half sister, was fighting for her life in the neonatal unit,” Mason said. “It was a risk, but he confided in me. I went down to Jacksonville several times to check on her.

  “She was so tiny,” he marveled. “I’d never seen a baby that small. Theoretically, I could hold her in the palm of my hand. Except I couldn’t, because they had her hooked up to all the tubes and monitors. They wouldn’t let me hold her until shortly before they released her. But the first time I did, I knew she was ours.”

  He gave his weeping sister a pleading look. “She had Dad’s blue eyes. My damned high forehead, and just the barest fuzz of blond curls. Just like Pokey’s baby pictures.”

  “Stop it,” Davis shouted, pounding the tabletop with his fist.

  Sallie stood abruptly, pushing her chair back with such force that it went crashing to the floor. “I won’t listen to another word of this,” she said. She got to the door and looked over her shoulder at Davis.

  “I’m leaving, too,” he announced. The conference room door slammed behind them.

  “Pokey?” Mason asked.

  She shook her head and settled back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “I want to hear it. All of it.”

  Mason got up and walked around to the chair next to hers, the one Davis had just vacated.

  “Kristy, that’s Sophie’s mom, isn’t a bad person,” he said. “She was only twenty-six when she got pregnant.”

  Pokey buried her head in her hands. “Oh God, Daddy,” she moaned. “A twenty-six-year-old? How could you?”

  “She looks a lot older,” Mason said. “I thought she was about thirty-five when I met her. She’s divorced, and she’s smart, but she hasn’t had an easy time of it. I think she really cared about Dad. He was good to her, you know?”

  “Go on,” Pokey said, sniffing. “How long do you think he was seeing her?”

  “Kristy told me they’d been dating for about a year,” Mason said. “He met her at the Hertz counter at the airport in Jacksonville, and he’d call her whenever he was in Florida on business, which was pretty often that last year he was alive, because we were chasing that Maxi-Mart deal. But I was totally in the dark about her. He knew I wouldn’t put up with that crap.”

  Pokey wrinkled her forehead. “Wait—back up a minute. Uncle Norris, are you sure Dad told you he’d been diagnosed with heart problems?”

  “Yes, Pokey,” the lawyer said. “We had the same cardiologist. Blaine McNamara. Max Kaufman referred both of us to him. Glenn and I talked about it several times.”

  “But how could Mama not know Daddy was sick?” she asked, looking bewildered. “He wouldn’t have kept that a secret from her, would he? I mean, was he on some medications?”

  Norris Thomas looked distinctly uncomfortable. “We discussed the prescriptions he’d been given. He was, uh, worried about potential side effects.”

  “What kind of side effects?” Pokey asked. “Could that have been what killed him?”

  Thomas tugged at his collar. “Well, um, I don’t know that would be something he’d want me to discuss with his daughter, Pokey.”

  “He’s been dead five years now, Uncle Norris,” Pokey said flatly.

  Mason chuckled. “I think Norris probably doesn’t want to tell you that Dad didn’t like the fact that his heart meds affected his sexual performance,” Mason said. “Does that about sum it up?”

  “Well, uh, in a manner,” Thomas said. His face was the shade of a glass of Quixie.

  Pokey turned her attention to her older brother. “You two traveled a lot together. Did he talk to you about having a heart condition?”

  “No,” Mason said. “I know he had a bunch of pill bottles in his shaving kit, but we usually didn’t share a hotel room.” His face darkened. “His excuse was that he snored too much and didn’t want to keep me awake. In hindsight, I suppose the real reason was that he had company in his room some of those nights. Like Kristy.”

  Pokey’s eyes softened. “Tell me how you ended up with Sophie.”

  “The medical bills were pretty steep,” Mason said. “But Dad had taken care of that. He’d put Kristy on the company payroll, so she’d have insurance coverage.”

  His sister rolled her eyes. “Oh God. If Davis found out about that he would blow a gasket.”

  “Yeah, especially if he heard her title. Taste Ambassador.”

  “Oh, no.” Pokey giggled. “Taste Ambassador. That’s just…” The giggle turned into a guffaw, and even the stern-faced Norris Thomas managed a nervous chuckle, and then Annajane joined in, and soon the conference room echoed with the Bayless family’s grief-tinged hilarity.

  “Oh, God, Daddy,” Pokey said, wiping her eyes with a tissue from the box in the center of the table. “Who knew you had such a delicious sense of irony?” She patted her brother’s hand. “Thanks, I needed a little comic relief to cut all this drama. Finish telling me about Kristy. What’s she like?”

  “She’s not a gold digger, or your typical home wrecker,” Mason said. “I think she really thought she would be able to raise Sophie on her own. Her mom lived nearby and was g
oing to help with the baby. But then her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, and she was going through chemo, and Kristy was terrified and totally overwhelmed. That last time I was down in Jacksonville, I ran into her in the neonatal unit, and she just … came unhinged.”

  “The doctors had been trying to explain to her about the special care Sophie would need after she was discharged from the hospital and to warn her about the possible developmental issues,” Mason said. “I walked into the nursery, where she’d been standing by the isolette, just looking down at the baby. Kristy was scared to touch her, to hold her, even though the nurses told her that’s what Sophie needed most. ‘You take her,’ she said. ‘I can’t do this.’ And she ran off.”

  “Not permanently ran off, right?” Pokey asked.

  “No. She called me later that night and asked if we could meet. We did, and that’s when she told me she couldn’t take Sophie home. She was living with her mom in a tiny one-bedroom apartment, and it just wasn’t going to get any better. Even with the money Dad left her, Kristy was not equipped to care for a baby on her own, especially a baby as sick as Sophie had been.”

  Mason shrugged. “What could I do? She had already started calling adoption agencies to try to get Sophie placed. I couldn’t let strangers take her, Pokey. She was ours. And I couldn’t tell Mama. She wouldn’t have stood for me bringing home Dad’s child by another woman. You saw her reaction today.”

  Pokey leaned over and hugged Mason. “You big dope. You know I would have taken her and raised her as my own. Everybody knows how badly I’ve wanted a little girl.”

  “No,” Mason said. “Anybody who saw Sophie would know she was a Bayless. There would have been questions. And we’d be right back at square one. This was the only way. I adopted Sophie and Kristy gave up all rights to her. That’s how she wanted it.”

  “You could have told me the truth,” Pokey said. “I would have been shocked, yeah, but I could have handled it.”

  “I wanted to tell you,” Mason said. “But if Mama ever found out you were in on it, she would have never forgiven you.”

 

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