him. “Is your mother all right?”
Gary stared forward, absentmindedly. He said, “I hope she’s all right. I just hope she went to the right place.”
Melissa and Taylor searched each other for a translation.
What was Gary talking about?
“What is it, Gary? What happened?’’ Taylor asked softly, almost in a whisper.
Gary couldn’t bring himself to respond. Taylor read Gary’s silence and knew the answer.
Melissa was already beginning to tear, and she hadn’t even met his mother. She had only seen Gary’s pictures of her.
Gary exhaled and said, “I need a minute,” and began to walk toward the automatic exit doors for fresh air.
Taylor and Melissa quickly followed.
I have to set up a funeral for her, and a big one,
he mulled as he reached Taylor’s car out in the hospital parking lot.
My mom knows a lot of people in Kentucky.
Chapter 7
Taylor and Melissa were forced to learn the details of the senseless carjacking and murder of Gabrielle Stevens through television and newspaper reports. Gary refused to tell them much of anything on their drive from the hospital or during the days that followed. He seemed only concerned with preparing for his mother’s funeral. While his staff members continued to run his record store, Gary huddled at his loft with his mother’s estate lawyer to arrange for a detailed memorial service and burial.
“I want a large marble tombstone with a heart on each side of her name.” Gary ordered as the lawyer made his notes.
Attorney Christopher Burnett, a tall and slender man in a dark-blue suit, white dress shirt and a mint-green tie, had known Gary for half of his life, almost as long as Taylor had known him. His quick speech pattern made him seem forever hasty.
“Yeah, I really think your mother would like that. That’s an excellent choice,” he agreed with a nod.
They sat at the small kitchen table, which was covered with paperwork, including the important estate documents—Gabrielle’s will, trust funds, bank account statements, property deeds, taxes, and health, life and dental insurance policies. These were documents that Gary had never seen or never dealt with before. Still, in his first year of owning a record store, he hadn’t even done his own taxes.
On the other side of his loft, resting on the comfortable sofa, Taylor and Melissa continued to hover around while checking in on him.
“Any day now I figure he’ll snap out of this,” Taylor commented on his friend’s dogged work mode. They had both spent a considerable amount of time in Gary’s presence during the three days that followed his mother’s death. They both wanted to monitor any aberrant behavior to make sure he wouldn’t plunge into something extreme. So they refused to leave him, while taking alternating shifts in his company. They had even taken turns spending the night at his loft, but all Gary seemed interested in was arranging his mother’s funeral and estate.
“What about dealing with your will, Gary? Are you ready to start off on any of that today?” the attorney asked him. In addition to his mother’s important estate documents, Burnett was ready for conversations on preparing Gary’s will in case anything unexpected were to happen to him. It was the attorney’s job to prepare for the worst.
Gary scanned the stack of paperwork on his kitchen table and waved it off. He had enough on his plate already regarding his mother’s stuff.
“Can’t you handle some of that? God, man, that’s a lot of shit to think about,” Gary complained.
“Yes, I can, but I’ll still need you to read and sign it. Or we could execute a power of attorney form, if you like,” Burnett suggested. “But I need you to at least be abreast of the particulars involved that are needed. I mean, a will is all quite detailed.”
When Taylor overheard the words “power of attorney” and “will” being tossed around in their conversations at the kitchen table, he began to pay more attention.
Gary
Gary stared forward, absentmindedly. He said, “I hope she’s all right. I just hope she went to the right place.”
Melissa and Taylor searched each other for a translation.
What was Gary talking about?
“What is it, Gary? What happened?’’ Taylor asked softly, almost in a whisper.
Gary couldn’t bring himself to respond. Taylor read Gary’s silence and knew the answer.
Melissa was already beginning to tear, and she hadn’t even met his mother. She had only seen Gary’s pictures of her.
Gary exhaled and said, “I need a minute,” and began to walk toward the automatic exit doors for fresh air.
Taylor and Melissa quickly followed.
I have to set up a funeral for her, and a big one,
he mulled as he reached Taylor’s car out in the hospital parking lot.
My mom knows a lot of people in Kentucky.
Chapter 7
Taylor and Melissa were forced to learn the details of the senseless carjacking and murder of Gabrielle Stevens through television and newspaper reports. Gary refused to tell them much of anything on their drive from the hospital or during the days that followed. He seemed only concerned with preparing for his mother’s funeral. While his staff members continued to run his record store, Gary huddled at his loft with his mother’s estate lawyer to arrange for a detailed memorial service and burial.
“I want a large marble tombstone with a heart on each side of her name.” Gary ordered as the lawyer made his notes.
Attorney Christopher Burnett, a tall and slender man in a dark-blue suit, white dress shirt and a mint-green tie, had known Gary for half of his life, almost as long as Taylor had known him. His quick speech pattern made him seem forever hasty.
“Yeah, I really think your mother would like that. That’s an excellent choice,” he agreed with a nod.
They sat at the small kitchen table, which was covered with paperwork, including the important estate documents—Gabrielle’s will, trust funds, bank account statements, property deeds, taxes, and health, life and dental insurance policies. These were documents that Gary had never seen or never dealt with before. Still, in his first year of owning a record store, he hadn’t even done his own taxes.
On the other side of his loft, resting on the comfortable sofa, Taylor and Melissa continued to hover around while checking in on him.
“Any day now I figure he’ll snap out of this,” Taylor commented on his friend’s dogged work mode. They had both spent a considerable amount of time in Gary’s presence during the three days that followed his mother’s death. They both wanted to monitor any aberrant behavior to make sure he wouldn’t plunge into something extreme. So they refused to leave him, while taking alternating shifts in his company. They had even taken turns spending the night at his loft, but all Gary seemed interested in was arranging his mother’s funeral and estate.
“What about dealing with your will, Gary? Are you ready to start off on any of that today?” the attorney asked him. In addition to his mother’s important estate documents, Burnett was ready for conversations on preparing Gary’s will in case anything unexpected were to happen to him. It was the attorney’s job to prepare for the worst.
Gary scanned the stack of paperwork on his kitchen table and waved it off. He had enough on his plate already regarding his mother’s stuff.
“Can’t you handle some of that? God, man, that’s a lot of shit to think about,” Gary complained.
“Yes, I can, but I’ll still need you to read and sign it. Or we could execute a power of attorney form, if you like,” Burnett suggested. “But I need you to at least be abreast of the particulars involved that are needed. I mean, a will is all quite detailed.”
When Taylor overheard the words “power of attorney” and “will” being tossed around in their conversations at the kitchen table, he began to pay more attention.
Gary
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