Stone Diaries, The - Carol Shields [134]
"She was worn out," announces Joan Taylor, the unemployed soon-to-turn-fifty youngest daughter of the Flett family. "Her life wore her out and then her death wore her out."
"She told me she was ready to go any time," murmurs the award-winning paleobotanist Victoria Louise Flett-Roy. "But is anyone ever really ready?"
"She had this crazy kind of adjustable intelligence. She could hoist it into view when she wanted to."
"Egregious. I heard her say that word once, egregious! It just rolled off her tongue."
"And holy smokes. She used to say holy smokes."
"Really?"
"And like sometimes she wasn’t quite there. Knock, knock, anyone home?"
"Those clothes! She had this way of dressing so no one knew if she spent too little money or too much. Or if she was four years behind her fashion moment or twenty-four years."
"Ha."
"She was evasive."
"Yes, but evasion can be a form of aggression."
"Come again?"
"You heard me."
Bluebirds, Pioneer Girls in Service, GSA, Tudorettes, History Circle, Christian Endeavor, Alpha Zeta, Quarry Club, United Church Women, Mothers’ Union, The Arrowroots, Mutchmor Home and School Association, Ottawa Horticultural Society, Beautiful Glebe Committee, Carleton County Heart Fund, Rideau Luncheon Series, Ontario Seed Collective, Bay Ladies Craft Group, The Flowers.
"No definitely, I do not want to have any of her body parts donated."
"It was just a thought."
"Everything about her was worn out anyway."
"I just thought—"
In Laving Memory of Daisy Goodwill Flett 1905–199—In Loving Memory of Daisy Goodwill Who in Sound Mind And without malice And Over the Objection of her Family Made the Decision After Prolonged Reflection After Torment With Misgivings With Difficulty With Apologies With Determination To Lie Alone in Death
"She left you what?" Joan shouted over the telephone. (A bad transatlantic connection.)
"Her trug," said Alice, grimacing.
"What in God’s name is a trug?"
"That old gardening basket of hers. That old mildewed thing with the huge hooped handle?"
"I think I remember. Vaguely. But why?"
"I don’t know. Same reason you got the silver asparagus server, I suppose."
"Lordy."
"And you know what Warren got."
"No. What?"
"Her old notes from college. And her essays. All hand-written.
Pages and pages. A big cardboard carton of them."
"She really kind of lost it at the end, didn’t she?"
"Maybe just a joke?"
"She wasn’t exactly one for jokes."
"I don’t know about that."
"Victoria has the lady’s-slippers."
"Gawd, what’ll she do with those old things?"
"She wanted them. At least she said she did."
"Well everything else is in order. Her assets, and so on."
"We can thank her accountant for that."
"And her lawyer. Although he seems to have dipped in pretty deep himself."
"What about Canary Palms!"
"Oh boy!"
"I feel guilty even talking about this. Even thinking about it."
"So do I."
"But I suppose everyone feels this way."
"Of course they do."
"So what can we do?"
"Not one little thing."
Seventy-four percent of American households spent at least a thousand dollars to improve or maintain their dwellings this year.
It was on the radio, the news—or else I dreamed it. Tell me, why do I need to know such a thing? Is the mind sweetened by this useless pellet of knowledge? No. Not when you’re already at the stuffed, blunted end of life.
Isn’t there anything else you can tell me?
The Bridal Lingerie of Daisy Goodwill Hood, 1927
2 three-piece bridal sets of crêpe-de-chine and Valenciennes lace with fine hand embroidery and drawn work, shell pink, ivory 12 slips 12 two-piece French sets, chemise and step-ins, peach, cream, blue, tea 6 night gowns 6 negligees, georgette and chantilly lace 2 robes, 1 wool tartan, 1 corded cotton 6 "Flaming Youth" brassieres "Pansy" brassieres of silk jersey and mercerized cotton 3 camisoles in pink jap silk 2 Gossard Dancelette girdles of silk jersey with elastic side insets 12 pairs silk stockings 12 pairs cotton stockings