Lawyer for the Cat by Lee Robinson Page B

crackles behind her.
    â€œSo,” I take a notepad out of my purse, “you understand why I’m here?”
    â€œI heard about the will.”
    â€œActually, it’s a trust.”
    â€œWell, whatever it is, I heard it’s a lot of money. Don’t it beat all?” She strokes Beatrice under the chin, which the cat clearly enjoys. “Who’da thought she was so loaded?”
    â€œDid Mrs. Mackay discuss the terms of the trust with you before she died?”
    â€œShe sure didn’t. Lila was real private about her money.”
    â€œSo, how did you learn about it?” I ask.
    â€œWord kind of gets around. I was knocked right off my rocker when I heard. I mean, you just look around.” Her hand, dirt under the fingernails, sweeps through the air. “Does it look like she had a lotta money? Anyway, I don’t know much about them other two, you know, that she put in the will or the whatever, but you can best believe that me and Beatrice here, we’ve always been buddies. Just like Lila—Miz Mackay—and me, we was good buddies.”
    â€œI can tell she likes you.” Beatrice’s purr is loud enough to hear over the whistle of the hot air going up the flue. “Would you be willing to care for the cat, then?”
    â€œOh, sure. I’d give her a good home. Billy and me got a three-bedroom mobile over there off Oyster Factory Road, which will be fine until we can build—”
    â€œBut you understand that under the terms of the trust, the caretaker must live here with the cat.”
    â€œThat just don’t seem necessary,” she says. “A cat don’t need a big ole place like this, with the ghost and all.”
    â€œGhost?”
    â€œI never did see him, but Lila did. She always said she wasn’t afraid of him—said it was a friendly ghost, but a ghost is a ghost as far as I’m concerned.”
    â€œSo you wouldn’t want to live here?”
    â€œLike I said, it don’t seem necessary, but then again, what am I saying?” She stops herself, biting her lip. “Billy and me, we’ll do anything we have to do to take care of this precious animal!”
    â€œHow old is the house?”
    â€œPlenty old. Like, about 1800, I think.”
    â€œYou work on the island, is that right?”
    â€œPart-time over there at the nursery.”
    â€œYou take care of children?”
    She laughs. “Oh, no! It’s the plant kind of nursery. That’s how I got to know Lila. She’d come every now and then to buy stuff for her garden—it’s not much now, but you should see it in spring and summer—and one time we got to talking about cats, and I told her about my cats and she said she needed somebody to look after Beatrice when she’d go into Charleston overnight, and I said sure, be happy to. And then I started helping her out with the grass-mowing and the garden, and I got really close to her.”
    â€œHow did she die?”
    â€œCancer. Kept that a secret except for me and Billy. Wouldn’t do chemo, though from what she told me, it probably wouldn’t have done any good anyway. In the end it was a heart attack. A blessing, I guess. Right out there in the rose garden. She loved her roses. Her roses, her writing, and Beatrice here. That’s what kept her going.”
    â€œHow many cats do you have?”
    â€œTwo.”
    â€œSo when you’d take care of Beatrice, did you bring your cats here?”
    â€œBilly stayed with them. Lila—Miz Mackay—wanted Beatrice to stay at home, so I’d come over here for a night or two when she went into Charleston. And Billy don’t like this house, anyway. I’m not, you know, suspicious … superstitious or whatever, but he was really freaked out when I told him about the ghost.”
    â€œBut I thought you said you hadn’t seen the ghost.” I look down at my notes so that she won’t see