Chương 9
“Yes.”
“Can I fix the roof?”
“Document it.”
“Can I throw away spoiled food?”
Miriam paused. “Yes, Althea.”
The answer embarrassed her.
She had spent years asking permission from pharmacies, nurses, doctors, insurance representatives, and Bill. She no longer knew which decisions belonged to her.
An investigator from the state’s adult protective services office called Monday.
Richard had made a report alleging financial exploitation and neglect before filing the lawsuit. The investigator, Sonya Patel, asked to meet at the house.
Althea cleaned for two days even though Miriam told her not to alter anything relevant. She scrubbed the medicine stains from Bill’s floor, washed the curtains, and stacked hospice supplies in boxes. When Sonya arrived, the house smelled of bleach and burned toast.
Sonya was younger than Althea expected, with a canvas bag and scuffed boots. She asked to see where Bill slept. She photographed the bed, the cracked wall, the window, and the bedside table. She examined the medication logs Ruth had taught Althea to keep.
Several entries were incomplete.
“You skipped doses?” Sonya asked.
“No. I forgot to write them down.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because if I skipped his morphine, he told me.”
“Was he able to communicate consistently?”
“Not in the last week.”
Sonya waited.
Althea rubbed her palms against her dress. “I know how that sounds.”
“I’m not here to decide based on how it sounds.”
They sat at the kitchen table.
Sonya asked about Bill’s pressure sores, his final infection, and the decision not to hospitalize him. Althea produced the hospice directive, the physician’s notes, and a voicemail from Ruth explaining how to clean the wounds.
“Richard says he was denied access to his father.”
“I never denied him.”
“He says you did not answer calls.”
“I did not answer every call.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes Bill was sleeping. Sometimes I was cleaning him. Sometimes Richard called to argue.”
“Did Bill ask you not to let Richard visit?”
“Once.”
“When?”
“After Richard tried to get him to sign something in August.”
“What kind of document?”
“I don’t know. Bill tore it.”
“Did you keep the pieces?”
“No.”
Sonya wrote that down.
Althea could see how much of the truth was made of missing things.
“Did you use Bill’s debit card?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever use it for personal purchases?”
Althea’s mouth became dry.
“Once by accident.”
Sonya looked up.
“I bought groceries at Miller’s. His things and mine were together. I used his card for the full amount. It was about a hundred and thirty dollars. I paid cash back into his envelope later.”
“Do you have a receipt?”
“No.”
“Proof you repaid it?”
“No.”
“Any other incidents?”
Althea stared at the chipped edge of the table. “I used his card to buy gas when I drove him to the cancer center.”
“That was related to his care.”
“I also bought coffee.”
“How much?”
“Two dollars.”
Sonya’s pen stopped.
Althea gave a tired shrug. “You asked.”
“I did.”
“I’m not good at making myself look innocent.”
“That can be different from not being innocent.”
“I know.”
Sonya asked about Althea’s finances. Credit card debt. Medical bills from Evan’s illness. The years she had worked reduced hours. The old sedan that needed brakes. The checking account with six hundred twelve dollars in it.
Then she asked whether Althea had known about the beneficiary deed.
“No.”
“Did Bill ever discuss leaving you the house?”
“He said I’d have a place as long as he lived.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
“Did you believe you would inherit anything?”
“I hoped he’d leave enough to bury himself.”
Sonya looked toward the pantry. “And now there is more than that.”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel about it?”
Althea almost said grateful.
She almost said guilty.
Instead, she said, “Like he handed me a bill after the funeral.”
Sonya closed her notebook.
Before leaving, she stood in the front room and looked at a water stain spreading across the ceiling.
“You cared for him alone?”
“Mostly.”
“Why?”
“There wasn’t anyone else.”
“There are always other people.”
Althea glanced toward the framed family photographs on the shelf. “There weren’t other people who came.”
Sonya nodded, but not as agreement. “Those are different answers.”
After she left, Althea sat in Bill’s chair and did nothing until the room became dark.
The furnace clicked twice without starting.
She laughed once, sharply, because the timing was so stupid.
Then she put on Evan’s old coat and went to the basement to restart it.
The furnace repair cost nine hundred dollars.
Althea paid with a credit card.
The funeral bill arrived the same week. Bill’s prepaid plan covered the casket and burial but not the church program, flowers Richard ordered, or an additional limousine Marcy requested for elderly relatives. Richard refused to pay until the estate’s validity was determined.
Althea paid the minimum amount to keep the account from collection.
Her part-time employer, a home health agency, removed her from two scheduled clients after one family complained about the allegations. The coordinator told Althea it was not disciplinary action.
“How long?” Althea asked.
“Until things settle.”
“Things like lawsuits don’t settle quickly.”
“I know.”
“Am I fired?”
“No.”
“Am I working?”
A pause.
“Not right now.”
The quiet after the call was worse than being dismissed.
Claire began visiting in the evenings.
At first she came to photograph records for Miriam. Then she started bringing food Althea had not requested: soup in plastic containers, rotisserie chicken, a bag of apples. She never stayed long enough to eat.
One night, she found Althea kneeling beside a box of receipts.
“Grandpa kept every hardware receipt since 1997,” Claire said.
“He used old pharmacy receipts to light the stove.”
“Of course he did.”
May you like
They sorted until midnight.
The receipts revealed no theft. They also did not create the clean accounting Richard’s petition demanded. Bill had paid bills in cash. Althea had moved money between envelopes. Some grocery receipts included her shampoo or a magazine. She highlighted those purchases and wrote amounts beside them.
