voice again.
“‘The same two women stood up for me more than once. And for all the choices I never had, I’d like to give them each a choice or two. It isn’t payback, because kindness never pays back in real life. But I’m dead now, so I don’t have to worry about real life. And I like the idea of giving you two something for no other reason than that you was both good to me.’”
Cal glanced up again. He looked as if he’d like to spin this out a while longer, but it seemed he only had one more thing to say. “Short and sweet, she left you her jewelry, ladies.”
“Her jewelry?” Poppy’s jaw almost fell to the floor. She well remembered all the gaudy stones Maude Rose had piled on from her neck to her wrists to her ears and fingers. If there was a cheap rhinestone ever made, Maude Rose seemed to own it.
“Her jewelry?” Bren echoed and then abruptly chuckled. “I’m sure she meant well, Mr. Asher, but of all the people in the universe who have no use for costume jewelry—”
“It’s not costume.” And suddenly Cal stopped smiling. “There’s a story behind Maude Rose. Years ago, she had one of her regular johns pay her in bank stock. Seemed that bank stock belonged to his grandpa and it was for a bank that he thought folded during the Depression. Anyhoo…that’s what Maude Rose thought—that the stock was worthless—and she just put it in a box and forgot about it. But later, when her Bobby Ray died, she needed to clean up things, so she brought me this whole grocery bag worth of papers to sort through. It seems that bank had long revived, got a new name, been building interest for years. So it was at that point she knew she had some decent money. She wasn’t going to have to worry about her future anymore.”
“But I don’t understand,” Poppy interrupted. “I know she had that one-room apartment, but she always looked like a bag lady. No car. We’ve all seen her pay for groceries with change she’d count out one dime at a time. If she had money—”
“She was afraid.” Cal answered the question that no one had directly asked. “Once her lover died, she was afraid she’d be prey to thieves and gold diggers. So she chose to live in a way that would protect her from anyone knowing how much she had.”
He pushed one box toward Bren, the other toward Poppy, but then cautioned them both. “We’re not talking millions here, so don’t be getting your hopes up too high. All those baubles aren’t real. But even so, I think you’ll be plum surprised at what she left you. But…”
Before either could open their boxes, he waggled a finger at them. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’m telling you this. Maude wanted you two to keep this quiet. She didn’t want your spouses or friends or family or anyone else to know about this. That’s why she insisted I set up this meeting with you two alone. Maude trusted no one. You can understand. People always used her roughly. And that was exactly why she wanted you two to hear about this in the privacy of this office with no one else here—so you’d have something you didn’t have to share. That no one knew about, so they couldn’t take it away from you. Something you could use for a little nest egg or to protect yourself or for something you never dreamed you could have otherwise. I can’t tell you how strongly she felt about this. She didn’t want anyone to try to influence you as to how you used your legacy from her.”
Enough speeches. Poppy couldn’t wait any longer to push the lid off her box. Hearing the whole story had almost made her believe the contents would be gorgeous…but no.
She’d seen all this cheap-looking crap on Maude Rose a zillion times. There were a couple of rings as big as her knuckle, earrings so heavy they’d tear out an earlobe. One bracelet looked like a cuff worn by a prisoner in a state pen, and a whole bunch of sparkly, glittery pins shaped like bugs and reptiles.
If it would save a puppy’s life, Poppy would happily walk down a street naked. It wasn’t as if she had any reason to be invested in appearance issues, with her looks. But man, it would have to be Halloween—and she’d need a snootful of Jack Daniel’s—before she’d ever wear any of this stuff.
“You’re sure this isn’t junk?” she insisted. “It’s hard to believe any of this is worth last year’s newspaper.”
“Some of it is definitely worthless. But not all.”
“But…” Poppy glanced at Bren, who finally couldn’t resist opening her box either. The jewelry was all different, but the array of dazzling sparklers in Bren’s box looked as if it came off the same Cracker Jack assembly line. Tasteless, bulky, big stones in an array of eccentric and crazy-shaped bracelets and brooches and rings.
Although Poppy normally couldn’t imagine having anything in common with the pastor’s wife, the two women shared a mirrored look of helplessness and humor.
“I think,” Bren confessed, “that I’m just too stunned to say much of anything.”
“If I might offer some advice,” Cal said, “I suggest that both of you take these things immediately to a jeweler to have them appraised. And then take them straight to a lockbox until you’re certain what you wish to do with them.”
“For my part,” Bren said, “I want to give them to a charity—”
“And of course you can do whatever you like,” Cal said. “That’s not my business. But I’d ask you to remember Maude Rose’s wishes. Most of her life, she felt trapped. She had to do things she never wanted to do. Because you were good to her, she wanted you to think about something you really wanted in your life that you never thought you could have. And to use the value of the jewelry for something that you really, really wanted.”
Poppy stood. She felt odd, as if she’d been slapped by a kiss. Not that there was anything bad about this unexpected windfall, but it was still a shock. She needed some time to wrap her mind around this whole goofy thing. Bren Price looked as if she couldn’t come up with anything more to say either.
Cal had a few more lawyer things to rant about before they could leave. “I need you both to sign some papers before you take the boxes. And I want to give you both a key to her apartment. The rent’s paid through the end of the month, and then—unless one of you wants the place—I’ll get a Realtor to do something with it. Until then, though, ladies, don’t be foolish. Get yourselves to a reputable jeweler as soon as you have a chance. And keep this to yourselves until you do.”
The women walked through the vestibule and out the front door at the same time. Once in the fresh air, Poppy took a healthy gulp of oxygen. Bren, quiet as the breeze, took a long second to catch her breath, as well.
“I just can’t seem to believe this,” Poppy said bluntly.
“Me either.”
“I can’t possibly go to a jeweler right now. I’ve got a whole day of work scheduled.”
“So do I. My husband doesn’t even know where I am. I can’t just disappear for another couple hours, not right now.” Bren added, “I keep thinking this is some kind of joke. That in another minute or two someone’s going to tell me the real punch line.”
“I have no use or interest in her apartment. But I’ll check it out as soon as I can get some free time. I don’t know if there are things to be cleaned up or if she has any personal, private belongings still in the place.”
“The same problem occurred to me,” Bren agreed. “I don’t like the idea of going through her personal things. But it just seems…respectful…to
