Morwenna's Malevolence

The room is hushed allowing me to hear the buzz of bees, the whoosh of the wind, the voices in my head, the hammering of my heart. With my lids closed, the scent of lavender loops around me, caressing me to calmness. 

Click

As if hearing my mother's admonition, I breathe a belly breath before I straighten my spine. Mada slips onto the mauve tub chair a twin of mine. Her face beams in welcome. 

"How are you Morwenna? I am so pleased to see you — it's been quite a piece of tine — since our dinner at your house a month ago."

"Mada, I am doing okay, as fine as can be on the day I confirm my last will. I feel like death is knocking on my door right now."

"I know this won't come as a surprise, but this kind of meeting evokes the same sentiment in all of my clients."

Knock-Knock

"Ah, here's our tea, thanks. Earl Grey, your favourite — milk, no sugar — right?"

The tea traipses down my throat. "So delicious. Thank you!"

"Let's get started, shall we?"

Mada flips open her laptop, and there on the screen, I read:

                      Last Will and Testament of Morwenna Firth

I, the undersigned, Morwenna Firth, of Bloonsuss, # 17 Gilded Lane, BROGRIN, hereby declare this to be my Will. I hereby revoke all previous wills or testamentary writings made by me.

I nominate Mada Kassem LLP, or another lawyer at Kassem, Tritter, Fyster Law Firm, as the Professional Estate Trustee.

I direct that my estate shall devolve as follows:

Special Bequests: 

The Professional Estate Trustee will be compensated 2½ percent of capital and income receipts and 2½ percent of capital and income disbursements, plus 2/5th of 1 percent of the annual average value of the assets as a care and management fee.

The letter enclosed is to be read aloud at the will reading by the Professional Estate Trustee, BEFORE, said will can be read aloud.

A provision in my will that if any of my beneficiaries contest this will or trust, they will lose even the inheritance that I did give them.

The Professional Estate Trustee will administer the preservation of Bloonsuss through Trust Fund, administered by Mada Kassem LLP, or another lawyer at Kassem, Tritter, Fyster Law Firm, as the Professional Estate Trustee. where I will have a green burial internment.

Any claims are subject to provision that:

- each beneficiary pays off credit card balance monthly

-each beneficiary reside at BLOONSUS a minimum of 14 consecutive nights in a calendar year, 

-each beneficiary will submit quarterly statement of how inherited income has been spent. (none can be spent/gifted to beneficiary parents) until death of said parents

If ALL terms are not met, the balance of my estate will be dispersed among a list of provided charities.

Modern disinheriting provision invoked.

Any advance benefit to heirs and not others were gifts AND is/was/should be considered an advancement on inheritance.

After my special bequest, I bequeath the residue of my estate to:

Silence shrouds this space, the air stale and scarce. 

Verbal promises don't count for anything in estate law. There's no legal requirement to be fair. Just do what needs to be done. Lowell, Lillian, Lori, and Lina have done nothing, except at the insistence of their mom. Cut them out! 

A tear traces my face. 

"Morwenna, what about the rest of your estate? It's valued at just north of 100 million dollars." 

I pull a linen handkerchief from my purse, dabbing my face. "You know I don't have any children to pass along my estate, nor do I have any nieces or nephews," my brow furrows.

"Don't you think you could include some blood relatives, otherwise you leave a legacy," she swallows, her eyes flitting around the room, "of hmmm."

"Honesty. Karma. Just desserts?"

Mada turns the screen towards me, the flashing cursor mocking, urging me to respond. 

"Fine, fine, you've guilted me sufficiently. I'll leave the estate to the grand nieces and nephews; my darling Dexter would approve. I'll not give a bloody cent to the nieces and nephew who didn't take the time to visit, send cards, well basically do anything other than what my dead sister-in-law, Deirdre, prodded them to do."

"That's good. This decision is true to your values. You know that better than I do."

I nod. 

"And the letter, you have it with you?"

I hand the sealed envelope into her palm. 

"So I'll input the grand nieces and nephews details into the will. Just give me a few moments." Up she stood, striding away swaying on her spiked heels. 

The outside beckons and I follow this instinct through the double doors, onto the patio surrounded with leafy splendour and a tinkling fountain. The gentle breezes cool my crimson cheeks. I sink onto a shady seat beneath the leafy boughs, looking up at the dappled light. 

"I'm all done. Come on in and sign your will."

I pick up the pen, and with a flourish, it is completed. Driving up the long drive, past the stone pillars, catching a glimpse of Bloonsus, encircled by trees like a grand lady dressed for a garden party. From the tip of her flint tiles to her charcoal lined windows watching and waiting, to her crimson door, I am welcomed home.

*****

The chairs lined up like soldiers at the ready, face the broad desk. In moments the play will begin. At 1100 hours the double doors breach, footsteps stomp the silence, secretive whispering seeps out. Seats fill with the cast. I adjust my blazer, finger my pearls lying at my throat, then with a breath, paste a smile on my lips and walk with reverence down the centre aisle. Taking a seat, laying the folder on the desktop, I raise my eyes surveying the assembled. 

"Good morning. I am Mada Kassem, the Professional Estate Trustee. We are gathered today to hear the reading of the last will and testament of the newly departed Morwenna Firth. Let me start by offering my condolences on Morwenna's loss to family and friends. I was honoured to be both a friend and a counsellor to Morwenna for many years and I feel her absence with keenness."

Opening the folder, I eye the two documents — the sealed letter and the will and testament.

"Before I read the will and testament, Morwenna has left a letter to be read aloud. I will unseal it now." 

The paper is expensive, ecru vellum, on Morwenna's stationery. 

I focus on maintaining a neutral modulation in my voice, pacing the premier of this letter so that I will not need to repeat this performance.

The air sizzles with stress, with surprise, with strop. 

If I were the subject of this letter — Lowell, Lillian, Lori, Lina — the 'L4' as Morwenna calls them, I would wish for the floor to open. My heart breaks for the grand-nieces and nephews, the chosen, possibly simmering and furious at their parents being characterized as entitled, narcissistic, selfish, without caring, kindness, courtesy, undeserving of any inheritance.

In gratitude, I turn to the will, returning to a more familiar role. Reading the final word, I stand with stiffness, holding copies of the will for each grandniece and nephew to distribute to each grandniece and nephew before I exit the room, the millstone removed from my mind.