Page 3 of Requiem

“No,” she asserts firmly. “You and Maggie are getting married soon. You’re going to need that money to buy a house.”

“Okay, first of all, we just moved into the SOHO brownstone, so nobody’s going to be looking at houses anytime soon. And how the hell much money are we talking about here, anyway?”

Ralph consults one of the papers in his stack.

“Just shy of eight-hundred-thousand dollars.”

My mouth falls open. I know it’s not a good look, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t even speak, but my mother is amused.

“Careful, Son, or you’ll catch flies in there,” she chides.

“I can’t take it, Mom,” I protest.

It’s my mother who leans forward this time.

“This is what your father wanted, Brett. And it’s what I want, too. Please, I don’t need to be worrying about you. This will put my mind at ease.”

“Jesus, Mom, it’s not like I’m a substitute music teacher. I play viola with one of the biggest string quartets in the world. I do just fine …” I stop abruptly when I see the look she’s leveling upon me.

Trudy has decided. It is done. Enough said.

Ralph starts to go through the details of the sale, when something occurs to me. “Wait, wait, wait …what about Jeremy?” I ask.

They both look at me as if I’ve started speaking Swahili.

“You know, Jeremy? Your other son?” I remind her, which doesn’t go over so well.

“I’m well aware of who he is, thank you very much, Brett,” my mother snaps.

Uh-oh. I’ve definitely kicked a hornets’ nest. Luckily, Ralph steps in and tries to smooth things over.

“Brett, your parents changed their will about a year ago to name you as sole beneficiary of the business. You’re also your mother’s sole beneficiary and will receive the balance of the estate after her passing.”

“Mom, are you sure about this?” I ask a little incredulously. This is harsh. Really harsh for Danny and Trudy.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” she declares flatly.

Ralph seizes the moment to jump back in and redirect the conversation. Or, at least that’s what he thinks he’s doing.

“Alright, then, with the autopsy results back, I assume you’re ready to make the funeral arrangements?”

“Yes, please, Ralph. You have the prepaid plan that we purchased from the funeral parlor. Please just ask them to follow those instructions. The church will take care of the service itself.”

“Whoa, hold on a sec …” I break in, shaking my head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Your father and I preplanned our funerals …”

“Not that!” I cut her off. “Why was an autopsy done? I thought it was a heart attack. Since when do they do autopsies for natural causes?”

My mother meets my gaze squarely.

“I requested the autopsy, Brett. It may have been natural causes that killed him, but I don’t think there was anything natural about the way he died.”

Now it all makes sense. The business, the will, the inheritance. She believes Jeremy had something to do with my father’s death, and I have no idea why, other than that my brother is a bastard. But, that wouldn’t be enough reason for her to make that assumption.

I’m missing something here. Something big. But I won’t be for long. I try several times to engage my mother on the drive home, but she shuts me down every time. “Mom, it’s just that …”

“Stop it. Right. Now,” she cuts me off sharply, turning to face me from the passenger’s seat. I almost pull off the side of the road.