The girls laugh and it’s clear I’ve missed something, perhaps Caity guessing some detail about Max’s will wrong? Plates and utensils clank as they clear the table and joke with their father.
Corin smiles, but not with his eyes. He glances at me, then away, as we wait through clanging and chatter from the kitchen. The soft growl of the dishwasher starts, then the girls return.
“Let’s start with physical things.” Corin steeples his fingers. “Johanna, he left you his share of the house, so we now each own half.”
I nod. No change there, Corin having bought out his ex-wife’s rights during the divorce.
“Most of Max’s belongings are likewise yours to keep or dispose of, apart from a few keepsakes, which he listed.”
Also as expected. I have vague memories of Corin checking with me about them so some could be distributed before the memorial service.
“If any of you would like anything from Max’s room or office, let me know.” I duck my head, breathing through my mouth to avoid the growing scents filling the room. “I’m not ready to clear them out yet, but taking more things to give to people might help.”
Anamaria grabs my hand and holds it, her skin warm against fingers I hadn’t realized had gone cold.
“Maybe we could look it over?” Caity asks, adding hurriedly, “Not today, but next week, or something like that?”
My fingers twitch as I nod. I’m waiting for whatever it is that Corin is set on sharing and wishing he’d just get to it, but he insists on ticking items off one at a time, evidently keeping the weightiest for last.
Max left his share of the business to Corin and me, as planned. Apart from a few bequests, most of the money he earned from the business is divided into trusts, one for each of the girls.
“These are safety nets,” Corin cautions them. “Don’t go running around jetting off to Paris or splurging without regard to cost. They’re supposed to supplement whatever you do to support yourselves, give you the freedom to take a risk or try new things.”
“We know, Dad.” Another eye roll from Caity. “It’s not like we haven’t heard you and Uncle Max and Aunty Jo talking a thousand times about budgets and how they work, and how tomake an ethical living while dealing with businesses trying to screw consumers.”
“Yeah, given all the million times you’ve talked about ethics, we know how much you walk the talk and don’t take too much money from your business.” Bebe shrugged. “None of us expect big inheritances. You’re too busy saving companies’ money by figuring out how they can produce omega-related products more efficiently without sacrificing quality—on the condition that most of the savings are passed on to omega consumers like Ana.”
“Thank you!” Anamaria says, squeezing my hand, but her interruption hardly stops her youngest sister.
“You hire good people, pay your staff well, and keep your salaries in line with theirs. Reinvest all other profits in the company or make sizable charitable contributions. Gave forty-percent ownership in the company to your employees to be held in common.” Caity ticks off on her fingers. “You’re exemplars of proper corporate leadership, sadly underappreciated by your colleagues. We bow before your greatness.”
I blinked, but the three of them still gazed at us with an oddly innocent delight and pride. “We’rewhat?”
For the first time in ages, I laugh, full belly ripples; my shoulders shake for minutes, all my tension draining away. I’m the first to succumb, but Corin’s deep chuckles underscore mine as he, too laughs so hard, moisture wells in his eyes.
“I hadn’t realized how saintly we come off!” I wipe tears from my face. My lungs ache, but it’s a good pain, albeit tinged with some embarrassment over how much Max, Corin, and I must have preached and bitched over the dinner table about business practices. “Or should I say sanctimonious?”
“No wonder our peers flee rather than talk to us at conferences.” Corin grins across the table at me, the two of us staring right at each other. “They must fear our pursuit of virtue is catching.”
Our eyes meet a moment too long. I force myself to turn away, toward Caity, who’s pouting but with a calculating gleam inhereyes. Anamaria and Bebe are giggling.
“Truly, we’re not that good,” I protest. “We’re just better at walking our talk than most of our competitors. That, and having reliable, well-paid staff means we don’t have to work every hour of the day and can have real lives.” Sort of. The demands did keep creeping into off-hours—possibly one reason Max kept putting off doctors’ appointments in favor of putting out work fires. Plus, the three of us working and living together made keeping work out of our home lives a difficult proposition. We too often failed.
“And Max did leave a sizable estate,” Corin adds. “It’s just that most of his money, including revenues from various patents, is directed to a new charitable trust that he set up and now wants us to develop further. Our first meeting is in a few days.”
A rush of cider flavors the air. Corin grimaces, and it lessens, though not before tension floods back into me. My arms press against my sides, feet hard against the floor, as I brace for whatever comes next.
“Us?” I gesture at the five around the table in forlorn hope.
“Not quite.” Corin turns to his younger daughters first. “Max didn’t name you two now, though he left open the possibility of your participation.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind less work.” Bebe shrugs.
“And it being Uncle Max, he probably wants to focus on omega issues, so Anamaria makes sense.” Caity’s lips are tight as she glances between Corin and me, and she asks for me, “Who else?”
“Anamaria, yes,” Corin gives her a nod, which she returns “Johanna, myself,”—he’s back to staring at me—“and he asked us to include two others.”
The sudden rushing in my ears at the first name drowns out the second
