All Through The Night

6

No traces remained of the festive luncheon they had enjoyed only a few hours earlier. But once again, Willy, Alvirah, Monsignor Ferris and Sister Cordelia sat at the same table they had dined at earlier in the day. Kate was with them, quietly weeping.

“I spoke to the Bakers an hour ago,” she said. “I told them that I was turning the house over to Home Base and that I couldn’t renew their lease.”

“And you say they produced a new will?” Willy asked incredulously.

“Yes. They said Bessie had changed her mind, that she hadn’t been a bit happy at the prospect of having the house wrecked by a bunch of kids. They also told me that she said the repairs Vic has made and the painting he’s done showed her that they’d keep the house in pristine condition, just the way she wanted it. You know how much she loved this house.”

She married the judge to get it, Alvirah thought wryly. “When did she sign it?”

“Just a few days ago, on November 30th.”

“She showed me the previous will when I stopped in to see her on November 27th,” Monsignor Ferris said. “She seemed quite happy with it then. That was when she asked me to make sure that Kate could stay in the apartment after she transferred the house to the Home Base program.”

“Bessie left me an income, and according to the new will, I’m allowed to live in the apartment in the Bakers’ home rent free. As though I’d stay here with those people!” The tears now ran freely down Kate’s face. “I can’t believe Bessie would do this to me. To leave this house to perfect strangers like that. She knew I didn’t like the Bakers. And to get an apartment somewhere else is impossible. You know what the prices are in Manhattan.”

Kate’s scared and she’s angry and she’s hurt, Alvirah thought. But even worse… She looked across the table and thought that for the first time since she’d known her, Cordelia looked her age.

Catching her sister-in-law’s eye, she said, “Cordelia, we’ll think of something to keep Home Base going, I promise.”

Cordelia shook her head. “Not in under four weeks,” she said. “Not unless the age of miracles isn’t over.”

Monsignor Ferris had been carefully studying the copy of the new will that Vic Baker had presented to Kate.

“From my experience, it looks absolutely legitimate,” he commented. “It’s on Bessie’s stationery, we know that she was a good typist, and that certainly is her signature. Take a look, Alvirah.”

Alvirah skimmed the page and a half and then reread it carefully. “It certainly sounds like Bessie,” she admitted. “Listen, Willy. ‘A home is like a child, and as one nears the end, it becomes important to surrender that home to the protection of those who would care for it in the most fitting manner. I cannot be comfortable knowing that the daily presence of many small children will totally change the appearance and character of the pristine house for which I have sacrificed so much.’

“Does she mean being married to Judge Maher?” Willy asked. “He wasn’t a bad little guy.”

Alvirah shrugged and continued to read. “‘Therefore I leave my home to Victor and Linda Baker, who will care for it in a manner suited to its genteel quality.’ “

“Genteel quality, indeed!” she snorted as she laid the will on the table. “What could he more genteel than giving a helping hand to children?” She turned to the monsignor. “Who witnessed this miserable piece of paper?”

“Two of the Bakers’ friends,” Monsignor Ferris said. “We’ll get a lawyer, of course, just to see if there’s anything to be done, but it certainly looks legitimate to me.”

Willy had been observing Alvirah for the past several minutes. “Your brain cells are working, honey. I can tell,” he said.

“They sure are,” Alvirah conceded as she reached to turn on the microphone in her sunburst pin. “This will may sound like Bessie in most ways, but Kate, did you ever hear her use the word ‘pristine’?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Kate said slowly.

“What kind of things did she say when she talked about the house?” Alvirah asked, persisting in her probe of the new will.

“Oh, you know Bessie. She’d brag that you could eat a seven-course meal off the floor-that sort of thing.”

“Exactly,” Alvirah said. “I know it looks bad, but every bone in my body says that this will is a phony. And Kate, Cordelia-I promise you that if there’s any way to prove it, then I’ll find that way. I’m on the job!”