About Schmidt - Louis Begley [105]
Lord Harry, Charlotte! You really are old-fashioned. So you are planning a semirestricted event: People of the Hebrew faith are welcome, people of color need not apply! Very nice! Have you checked that against the firm’s equal opportunity policy, Jon?
You are off the reservation! Stop talking like that!
Don’t raise your voice, Jon. I told you when you were still a young associate that’s always bad form, a sign of insecurity.
They left shortly afterward, and he began to feel he couldn’t breathe right.
Don’t make plans. That was a deep insight, although, as Schmidt would be the first to admit, not one that applied to every situation. Before the problem with the man was solved, Schmidt had intended to call his former partner Murphy—in his thoughts always that clown Murphy—to ask if he could get away with not paying a gift tax if he paid Carrie’s tuition at Southampton College and any other costs directly, instead of giving her the cash. Why should he give the government more money than he absolutely must to waste on the space program and making Afghanistan safe for Western values? And he had planned to ask Murphy, as an aside, about the law that had come out of palimony suits and the like. But after that clown Riker—another one!—had opened his mouth he felt he was goddamned if he was going to stoop so low. The circumstances had changed.
He tried to reach for the mail on the night table. The pain stopped him.
Albert, is there anything you want? You shouldn’t be moving around in the bed.
Yes, thanks, that thick certified mail and my glasses.
He read the papers for the third time. The lawyers for his stepmother, Bonnie, were notifying him that she had died suddenly, in her sleep, probably from a heart attack, and bequeathed to Schmidt her entire estate, including what was in the trust her first husband had set up for her with the assistance of Schmidt’s father. The will was enclosed, as clear as possible. Also a letter from Bonnie. Dear Schmidtie, she wrote, in the laborious handwriting that had always amused him,
I felt bad when your Dad left everything to me, because poor Sozon had already left me more than enough. I told your Dad that was what I thought but he wanted to do it. He said I was good to him—goodness knows, I tried and he was such a sweet man, so gentle! He told me if you behaved well and I kept feeling that way I could leave you what was left over in my will. You were sweet to me during that difficult time, and you never let on that you were disappointed! So I’m doing the right thing now. I am also leaving to you everything in Sozon’s trust. Your Dad worked it out so I could give it to anybody I like, he said that was good for taxes. Sozon’s sons have too much already and they weren’t ever nice to me.
Probably, I’ll live another fifty years, at the rate I’m going, but if I die you have fun, and get some more suits at your poor Dad’s tailor. You liked them so much! Those nice people in Boston your Dad got to look after the money have done a real good job. Believe me!
The letter was dated Christmas Day, 1990. He had sent her a card with his wishes just before that Christmas and, as usual, she had replied. Apparently she didn’t hold it against Schmidt that he had skipped the following Christmas. He had written to her about Mary; she knew that things were not as they should be.
Bryan, he said to his keeper, I have a feeling that when I get better I’m going to need someone to look after a large house in Florida. In West Palm Beach. It’s a big job. Practically everything will need fixing or replacing. It will take a lot of work and a very long time. Do you think you could manage that?
A Conversation with Louis Begley
Q. You grew up with fear, danger, and deception. Has your success in life changed your outlook on mankind? Are you fully able to enjoy your successes, or are they tinged with other emotions?
A. I can’t give you a yes or no answer. I’m a complicated person, and my responses to things that happen to