There was a folder in his free hand. He set it on the conference table, opened it, and skimmed the first page, then the next, and the page after that. I could make out LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT at the top of the first but little else. Beside me, Gerdy squeezed my hand.
Matteo cleared his throat, then glanced down at his watch. “I was expecting one other person for this but looks like we got a no-show. I guess we’ll get to that in a second. Let’s get the formalities out of the way. Then we can talk specifics.” He reached into his jacket pocket, retrieved a pair of glasses, slipped them on, then looked at me. “Ready?”
I nodded.
He returned to the pages and began to read aloud, “Last will and testament of Josephine Laura Gargery. I, Josephine Laura Gargery, an adult residing at 1822 Brownsville Road apartment 306, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 15210, being of sound mind, declare this to be my last will and testament. I revoke all wills and codicils previously made by me. Article I. I appoint Dewitt Matteo as my Personal Representative to administer this will, and ask that he be permitted to serve without court supervision and without posting bond. If Dewitt Matteo is unwilling or unable to serve, then I appoint Donovan Santillan or Emanuel Veney. They’re my partners,” Dewitt said. “…to serve as my personal representative, and ask that he be permitted to serve without court supervision and without posting bond.”
Matteo turned to the next page. “Article II. I direct my personal representative to pay out of my residuary estate all the expenses of my last illness, administration expenses, all legally enforceable creditor claims, all federal estate taxes, state inheritance taxes, and all other government charges imposed by reason of my death without seeking reimbursement from or charging any person for any part of the taxes and charges paid, and if necessary, reasonable funeral expenses, including the cost of any suitable marker for my grave, without the necessity of an order of court approving said expenses.”
Matteo looked up. “Just so you know, we already took care of all that. We didn’t want you to be burdened with any of the funeral arrangements. I know Jo didn’t either, so all those bills have already been settled by my office. Tess handled the logistics, if you’d like to thank her. We’ll deduct the expenses from the estate.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice thin. Although, I had no idea where that money would come from. Auntie Jo’s checking account was flat and closed months ago. I had some cash left but not much.
He returned to the will. “Article III. I devise, bequeath, and give all my worldly possessions, known and unknown, to my nephew, John Edward Thatch.”
Matteo paused here, reading the next section to himself before continuing. “Article IV. If, at the time of my death, John Edward Thatch is still a minor in the eyes of the law of the state of Pennsylvania, I appoint Elfrieda Leech his legal guardian until such time he is considered an adult in the eyes of the law of the state of Pennsylvania.”
Gerdy leaned over to me. “Who is Elfrieda Leech?”
“She was supposed to be here today,” Matteo said.
At first I didn’t answer, my mind trying to wrap my head around what he just said. “She’s my neighbor, apartment 304 across the hall. She used to babysit me when I was a kid. She’s a complete shut-in. Years ago, she was robbed. I think they raped and beat her. Left her for dead, from what I heard. When she was released from the hospital, she locked herself up in that apartment and hasn’t left since.”
“My God, that’s horrible!” Gerdy said.
I went on. “Auntie Jo used to buy groceries for her. Then, when she got sick, I started doing it. Every Thursday, Ms. Leech tapes an envelope to her door with fifty dollars inside, along with a shopping list. I pick up whatever she needs and leave the bags outside her door. I always knock, but she never answers. At some point, she pulls the bags inside. I haven’t seen her in years, though.” I looked at Matteo. “Are you sure this is current?”
“Jo came in shortly after she was diagnosed, about a year ago. I walked the paperwork over to Ms. Leech myself and witnessed her signing.”
“She opened the door for you?”
Matteo’s eyes shifted at this. He fumbled with a pen beside the folder. “Well, no. ‘Witness’ may not be best word. I explained who I was, why I was there, and she asked me to slide the paperwork under the door. Said Jo had told her I would be coming, explained why. Ms. Leech signed the documents and slid everything back. I asked to see her driver’s license to confirm the signature. That seemed to take her a minute, but she eventually located it and slid it under the door to me as well. The license expired some time ago, nearly twenty years ago, in fact, but the signatures were a match.” He tapped at a form in the folder. “Tess left several messages for her regarding today’s reading. She was supposed to be here.”
“She wouldn’t leave her apartment,” I muttered. “Like I said, I don’t think she ever leaves.”
Matteo laid his palm flat on the folder. “This is just a formality, really. You’re almost eighteen, right?”
I nodded. “My birthday is in January.”
“So, seven months.” Matteo lowered his voice. “Your aunt didn’t want to risk you falling into social services, foster care, none of that, so she worked this out with your neighbor. Your legal address will change to apartment 304, with Ms. Leech, but as long as you can keep up the rent, I see no reason why you’d have to leave your own apartment. Anybody asks, you live with Ms. Leech. Got it?”
I nodded, still trying to process.
Matteo returned to the folder, turned the page. “Article V. Should my beneficiary not survive me by 30 days, then his share shall be distributed to my surviving relatives in equal share. Signed, Josephine Laura Gargery.”
“We don’t have any other relatives,” I said softly.
“Well, don’t die then. The state would get everything.” He returned to the will, flipped to the next page. “Because you’re a minor, the proceeds from the various life insurance policies will be placed in a trust administered by my office. We’ll pay your regular bills directly from here, for a small fee, of course, and you will be given a monthly allowance. The remaining assets will be distributed to you on your twenty-second birthday, providing you graduate from college. Josephine was very adamant about that. Her preference was Penn State. She was rather insistent, actually.”
“What life insurance? Auntie Jo didn’t have life insurance.”
Matteo reached into the folder and removed a small stack of documents bound with a metal clip at the top. “Your aunt took out three separate life insurance policies. The first dates back to August 6, 1980.”
“That’s two days before my parents died.”
Matteo continued. “She took out the second one in 1984 and the third one about two years ago, before she was diagnosed.”
“But, how could she afford that?”
