In a Heartbeat - Elizabeth Adler [80]
“All she has left,” he told Ed, “is that grand old house. And whatever remains that she hasn’t already sold. Oh, and the ramshackle beach property, up the coast a ways. But that’s worthless too, or so I’m told.”
He consulted the note in front of him and Ed recognized Dorothea’s large sprawling writing from the weekly letter she sent to him.
“Besides, Mamzelle has already deeded the beach property to you.” Hawthorne glanced at Ed over the top of his half-glasses. “It’s my duty to inform you that as the new owner, from now on you will be responsible for all property taxes, plus the upkeep, should you wish to retain it. Though as I already said, I doubt that it has much value at this time, other than the land. And since it’s out of the way, and not a popular area for weekenders, it’s unlikely it would sell.” He shrugged, his withered voice trailing off as he closed the file.
“Mamzelle also appointed you executor of her estate. She gave you power of attorney, so you now find yourself in the position of deciding what to do about Jefferson House, as well as taking care of the old lady.”
Ed was silent.
“I know it’s difficult,” Hawthorne said. “You are still a student and you have no income. I’m sorry about this, Mr. Vincent, but it was Mamzelle’s wish. Although I have no doubt she expected to die first and not leave you stuck with worrying about her welfare.”
Stuck? Ed thought. Stuck? Why, he welcomed the opportunity to take care of his mentor. But how?
“I suggest we put the contents of the house up for auction and place the house itself on the market, though there’s not much demand for these historic old properties right now. You would have to pour money into them, and young people don’t want to be bothered with woodworm and dry rot and antique plumbing. They want all the modern conveniences.” Hawthorne sighed again, regretfully. “I hope one day things will change, but . . .” His voice trailed off again and he sat back, seemingly lost in thought.
Ed thanked him, said he would of course take care of Mamzelle, and asked him to put the house and its contents up for sale, with the exception of the few favorite things he knew Mamzelle would not want to part with.
He went back to the hospital and held Mamzelle’s hand for several hours, talking to her every now and again, promising her a bottle of Southern Comfort when she awoke, as well as a walk along the Battery in the sunshine, and telling her about the magnolias in bloom and the scent of the lilies. Then he hitched his way out to Hazards Point to inspect his property.
The gabled Victorian beach house was as old and ramshackle as the mansion, though not nearly as grand. Everything about it was crumbling: the timbers, the deck, the roof. Every window was cracked, and what was once the driveway was now a mass of broken stones and tall weeds. But the view from the bluff was astounding: an endless vista of tranquil blue ocean all the way to the even bluer horizon. Little shanty steps led to a tumbledown wooden pier with a deepwater mooring, where, once upon a time, Mamzelle’s father had kept a smart sailing yacht.
Ed walked around his property feeling like a king. Thanks to his friend, he had a home. Dorothea had not forgotten him and now he would not forget her. It was his turn to be the caretaker.
43
Mamzelle reached for the bottle and Camelia hastened to do the honors. He couldn’t imagine how a little thing like her put away so much liquor and figured that by now she must have a zinc-lined stomach.
“To my sorrow, I did not die when I had wished.” Mamzelle sipped the bourbon, thoughtfully. “It was not my intention to become a burden on my young friend. I had meant for him to inherit it all, or at least whatever was left. And then he inherited me, instead.” She sighed, but a smile lurked in those winter-pale eyes.