16. The Last Will and Testament of Penelope Ann Monroe
16
THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF PENELOPE ANN MONROE
There is a blue eye which will look back at Ireland;
never more shall it see the men of Ireland nor her women.
— ST. COLUMCILLE, “A BLUE EYE WILL LOOK BACK”
I, Penelope Ann Monroe (formerly O’Brien), residing at 38774 Reed Rd, Manzanita, Oregon, USA, declare this to be my Will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made.
ARTICLE I: Funeral expenses & payment of debt.
I direct my executor, Jonathan F. Lynch to pay my enforceable unsecured debts and funeral expenses, the expenses of my last illness, and the expenses of administering my estate out of any remaining accounts.
It is my wish that my body be cremated at the Seaside Mortuary and that my last of kin scatter them on the Southwestern shore of Inis Oírr of the Aran Islands, Ireland, at the personal home of Robert AND Caitlin Connolly. I wish to have no memorial service or public notification of my death in any way.
ARTICLE II: Money & Personal Property
I give all my tangible personal property and all policies and proceeds of insurance covering such property, to my daughter, Sybil Whelan, née Monroe, with the exception of the enumerated clauses below. If she does not survive me, I give that property to my grandchild, Cassandra Jayne Whelan.
My executors may pay out of my estate the expenses of delivering tangible personal property to beneficiaries.
Clause 2A: All personal assets held under account #0273849-928 at the Bank of Ireland I give to my granddaughter, Cassandra Whelan, for her own personal use as she sees fit.
Clause 2B: I also give Cassandra Whelan my black recipe box if in the event she has not received it prior to the event of my death.
Clause 2C: The remainder of my personal finances I give to my daughter, Sybil Whelan, nee Monroe, under a trust that allows her to receive funds at the rate of $5000.00 per month until her death. I hereby appoint my granddaughter, Jonathan Lynch primary trustee.
ARTICLE III: Real Estate
Clause 3A: I give the following residences to my daughter, Sybil Whelan:
10024 Greenwood Avenue N, Seattle WA 98115 USA
38774 Reed Rd, Manzanita, Oregon 97131 USA
Clause 3B: I give the following residences to my granddaughter, Cassandra Whelan:
Monroe Cottage, Inis Oírr, Aran Islands, Co. Galway 099 73047
27 Craven Hill Mews, London, Greater London W2 3DP United Kingdom
Clause 3C: None of the above named properties are to be sold before the year 2050 unless my family requires the funds to pay any outstanding debts on my behalf.
ARTICLE IV: Residuary Clause
I give the rest of my estate (called my residuary estate) to my daughter, Sybil Whelan. If she does not survive me, I give my residuary estate to my grandchild, Cassandra Whelan.
ARTICLE V: Taxes
I direct my executors, without apportionment against any beneficiary or other person, to pay all estate, inheritance, and succession taxes (including any interest and penalties thereon) payable by reason of my death.
ARTICLE VI: Fiduciaries
I appoint Jonathan F. Lynch as Executor of this will. If he is unable or unwilling to act, or resigns, I appoint Robert Connolly as the executor in his place. If either co-executor also predeceases me or is unable or unwilling to act, the survivor shall serve as executor. My executor shall have all the powers allowable to executors under the laws of this state. I direct that no bond or security of any kind shall be required of any executor.
ARTICLE VII: Simultaneous Death Clause
If my daughter or granddaughter and I shall die under such circumstances that the order of our deaths cannot be readily ascertained, they shall be deemed to have predeceased me. No person, other than my daughter and granddaughter, shall be deemed to have survived me if such persons die within 30 days of my death. In this event, all parts of my estate shall be sold and the monies divided evenly among the townships of the Aran Islands. This article modifies all provisions of this will accordingly.
I have signed this will this 17th day of March, 2003.
Penelope Ann Monroe
SIGNED AND DECLARED by Penelope Ann Monroe on March 17, 2003, to be her will, in our presence, who at her request, in her presence and in the presence of each other, all being present at the same time, have signed our names as witnesses.
Jonathan F. Lynch
ROBERT CONNOLLY
Caitlin Genevieve Connolly
I set the papers down and rested my hands on my knees. The ink immediately disappeared. Lynch hadn’t moved and was now watching me again with that odd iridescent glitter in his eyes that seemed to come and go like the wind.
“Will I be able to read that again?” I asked. “Or will I have to say goodbye to my father every time I want to review her will?” The idea was unbearable.
Lynch shook his head, and his eyes cleared. “No. But, Ms. Whelan?—”
“Cassandra or Cass, please. You’ve just seen one of the worst moments of my life. You can use my given name all the time, not just when you’re irritated with me.”
For that, I received a lopsided smile that made my stomach flip. “As you like. The document will respond to your touch alone from now on. You won’t have to See the memory again, but it was important that it be a particularly poignant one.Emotions are difficult to feign.”
“I see.”
But I didn’t. Not really. Why did Gran need to protect a will as basic as this so intensely? Did she know something was going to happen when she signed it? Divination wasn’t in our family’s realm of power, but I was starting to wonder what other secrets she might have kept other than being friendly with a socially awkward lawyer.
“Dr. Lynch?—”
“Jonathan, please. I—” He took a deep breath. “I already asked you that. And I would also prefer it.”
Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who felt more than slightly closer in the aftermath of the memory.
He pulled a few other papers from his briefcase and set them in front of me. “More of the standard bits. If you’ll sign here and here. They authorize me as your agent in dealing with the autopsy, cremation, and financial matters if you like. I’ll have the ashes delivered to you here or in Boston as soon as they are ready.”
With somewhat unsteady hands, I made my mark at the bottom of both pieces of paper. He handed me another sheet, which appeared to be some sort of bank statement.
I looked it over. “What’s this?”
“It’s a document that, when presented with appropriate identification, grants you access to the account in the will. Until that time, I have been appointed conservator.”
I looked at the bottom of the statement, and my eyes popped open. “This can’t be right.”
“I assure you it is.”
“Gran didn’t have this kind of money. We didn’t have enough to put me through community college. I was a Pell Grant recipient, and I had to apply for a million scholarships, loans, and work my ass off to attend Reed.”
“Perhaps she was trying to teach you something else there.”
“About what, the merits of poverty?”
“Or the merits of living without it.”
I shook my head at the sheet. It was an obscene amount of money, more than most people ever saw in a lifetime. Maybe even ten lifetimes.
I handed the paper back to him. “I don’t want it.”
“Then don’t take it.” He tucked it into the folder with the rest of the paperwork. His tone was matter-of-fact, as if he expected my response. “For now, anyway. I doubt you’ll feel this way forever, and it’s likely you’ll have need of it one day. Meanwhile, I’ll see that it’s kept safe until that time comes.”
I opened my mouth, ready to argue, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“She wanted you cared for, Cassandra,” he said, a bit more kindly now. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Jonathan,” I said slowly, thinking carefully about how to phrase my next questions. “Do you think you could explain why my grandmother’s will had to be so secretive? And who Robert and Caitlin Connolly are? I’ve never even heard of these people. Everything about this—all of it—is so odd.”
“Is it just the will that’s strange? Or other things too?”
“You mean besides a lawyer tracking me across the country to give me a basic will?”
It was meant to be a joke, but suddenly, it didn’t seem very funny. None of this was funny.
We stared at each other for a moment, as though both of us were evaluating to what extent the other could be trusted, if at all. Why he wouldn’t want to trust me, I couldn’t say. But the cock of his eyebrow and the purse of his lips told me he was trying to figure me out just as much as I was.
Finally, his gaze broke from mine, turning toward the ocean while he ran one long-fingered hand through his thick, sandy hair. I took a sip of now-cold tea, wishing once again that my abilities didn’t require touch to sneak inside someone’s mind. But since he knew that too and was clearly taking some kind of measure to avoid it unless absolutely necessary, I had no other choice but to wait for his reply.
“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” he asked suddenly.
Whatever I had been expecting, a date wasn’t it. “Dinner?”
His mouth twisted. “Surely, you must eat. Unless a restaurant is too much for you with your…” He gestured toward my hands. “Condition.”
I frowned at the assumption. It wasn’t unfair, but he didn’t know everything about me. “I can handle a meal. I suppose that would be fine since I don’t exactly have much in the way of plans out here.”
“No friends to see? Old flames to…fan?”
Something else glittered in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure what to make of the intensity of that expression, though he was joking.
“This might shock you, but I wasn’t exactly a homecoming queen or anything in high school,” I said.
His brow furrowed adorably. “A what?”
I rolled my eyes. “The answer is no. I don’t have any friends left in the area.”
He relaxed considerably. “Lovely. Shall we say seven o’clock? I’m staying at one of the inns on Laneda. Shall I pick you up?”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll just meet you at the restaurant.”
Despite the fact that this man had acted as an impromptu chauffeur three times now, I still didn’t like the idea of being completely dependent on him to drive me places. Especially in the dark.
“Blue Sky looks promising. I’ll make a reservation.” Jonathan stood and extended his hand carefully, looking somewhat unsure.
I stood too, then shook it with just as much caution. Careful sympathy vibrated up my arms— moderated but struggling to maintain that control. Control of what, though? What was he trying to hide?
Gran’s smile flashed through his mind, and I Saw her wrap him in a warm hug, the kind I had felt so many times myself. I recognized the musky scent of the cable knit sweater she always wore over her red skirt, but barely had time to register that, in his mind, Jonathan was wearing an exquisitely tailored three-piece suit and had a mustache.
He looked disturbingly good with facial hair.
He squeezed and pulled his hand away. “I’ll miss her too,” he said with another half-smile. “Just wanted you to know that.”
I walked him to the front door and watched as he stepped over the landing (was it me, or did he go out of his way to avoid the cracks between the wood beams of the porch?) and walked to his car.
“Seven,” he called before getting in. “I’ll answer more of your questions then. I promise.”