“We can sit at my desk or here,” she says while waving her hand toward the elegant sitting area. There’s a laptop and coffee mug on the table. It’s obvious she prefers here so I choose it.
“Here is fine,” I say.
We both sit on the sofa and she speaks first. “I’m sure you’re surprised to see me and not William,” she begins and I nod. “After you left last week, I inquired about you. I found out he was handling your loved one’s policy.”
“My mother,” I correct her.
“Yes, your mother. My sincerest condolences to you and your family. Losing a loved one is never easy and the aftermath is no better. This is why we pride ourselves on not adding stress. Now, we are bound by rules, policy, and procedures, so we have guidelines and requirements.”
“I understand that but he was adamant that my mom would actually do something like…” I begin but my words crack. It’s so hard to say that shit out loud.
“I’m aware. That’s why I took over the policy and got with the investigators. The police report says accident. The medical report and death certificate say cardiac arrest. There’s nothing concrete or official that counters that. Beliefs, assumptions, and guesses aren’t official. We are going to pay out the policy,” she says.
It feels like a thousand pounds are lifted off me and my eyes tear up instantly. It was an accident. My mother would never do that to me and my girls. He was wrong as hell.
“Oh God! Thank you so much. I knew it. I just knew it,” I say as I wipe my tears. She grabs the tissue box on the table and passes it to me. I remove two tissues and blot my eyes and cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Of course. We have to do what’s right,” she says. She reaches under the laptop and removes a manila folder. She opens it and hands me a piece of paper. “We offer different payment options. You can choose the lump sum, regular payments over a specified period, or we offer asset accounts, where you can write checks against the funds. Which do you prefer?”
“The lump sum. My mom clearly wanted me and my girls to have it all.”
“Just so we are clear, you would still get it all with the other options,” she says.
“I’m aware. No offense, besides you, I’m over this place and would be good if I never have to come here again.”
“I understand,” she says with a smile. While pointing toward the paper, she adds, “Initial here by lump sum then sign at the bottom.” She grabs a pen and gives it to me. I initial and sign then she signs it. “You will have to come one more time to pick up your certified check.”
“I can do that. How long does it take?”
“Typically, two to three business days. Since it’s late afternoon, I’ll say Monday, but you’ll get an email when it’s available for pick up.”
“Perfect. Thank you so much again, for everything.”
“Of course. We sistas have to stick together.”
“I know that’s right. Can I hug you?”
“Of course,”she says and we embrace.
I’m truly grateful to her for everything. Comforting me the other day and taking over this policy and vindicating my mom means so much to me. I will always be grateful to her for both.
Feeling light, relieved, and less stressed than I have in weeks, I leave her office in a great mood. Since it’s only one and the girls aren’t out of school until three-thirty, I decide to stop by and surprise Kandi. I need to let her know the good news.
Before driving to her townhome in The Falls, I stop by Brewed Bean and pick up a white chocolate latte for me and that nasty ass matcha latte she loves. Her white Infiniti is parked in her driveway. I park beside it and get out. The front door opens before I can ring her bell.
“When I say perfect timing, this is perfect ass timing,” she gushes as she practically snatches the cup from my hand. “Please say this is mine,” she sighs.
“It is. What’s going on?” I ask because although her hair is back in a perfect bun and her face looks flawless, she sounds a little frantic.
“Girl, I just need to have a conversation with a person who talks back. I was about to call Sundae but her ass barely answers when she’s working. And I thought you were at the office.”
“I took off to handle the insurance stuff,” I tell her, then close the door.
“Oh, right. That was today,” she sighs. “Forgive my new mommie brain. What did they say?”
“What they should have said all along. It was an accident and I’ll get the money next week, probably Monday.”
“Oh, Adora! Yes! That is so good,” she gushes before wrapping her arms around me. We embrace for a much-needed long moment then walk into her living room. My little godangel is in her bassinet sleeping by the sofa. When I step toward it, Kandi says, “Please don’t wake her. I just got her to sleep.”
