Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes(29)

 

 

 

Deanna Crawfield looked much more professional on a Thursday afternoon than at two o’clock on a Sunday morning, but then again I think most people would. We sat at a conference table while she took notes on a legal pad. Deanna said the evidence was circumstantial. The cut utility lines and the busted side door were in my favor, but the fact nothing was stolen and my argument with Momma in the afternoon were not. She was surprised the police hadn't called me in for more questioning, which she saw as a bad sign. They were collecting more evidence first.

 

An hour later, I left feeling less than confident about my freedom. If anything, I wondered how long it would take for the Henryetta police department to show up at my door to arrest me.

 

On the way home, I stopped at a convenience store to buy milk. While I dug cash out of my wallet, a Wal-Mart receipt fell out onto the counter. I almost wadded it up before noticing the writing on the back.

 

My list.

 

I picked it up, staring in disbelief. In all the confusion, I’d forgotten about it.

 

“Do you want me to throw that away?” the clerk asked.

 

“No, that’s okay…” I mumbled and carefully tucked it into my wallet. I’d figure out what to do with it later.

 

After I got home, I decided to search for Momma’s will. I knew she had one made after Daddy died and I suspected it was in the lockbox in her bedroom closet. I couldn’t believe Violet hadn’t thought of it, but she probably figured she’d have to deal with me to read it. She never returned my phone call from the night before and she hadn’t called to check on my attorney appointment.

 

The dusty box was on the floor in the closet, hidden behind a stack of empty shoe boxes. Inside, I found a stack of papers and pulled them out one by one. Momma and Daddy’s marriage license. Daddy’s death certificate. The deed to the house. At the bottom was a large envelope labeled “Last Will and Testament of Agnes Gardner.” I opened the flap and pulled out a bundle of papers, all stapled together. I read the legalese, wondering if anyone really understood any of it, until I got several pages in and found Violet’s name. Bequeathed to Violet Mae Gardner Beauregard was all Momma’s money, her house and all its furnishings.

 

Everything.

 

The room became fuzzy and I worried I’d pass out and hit my head again. I put my head between my knees, gasping for air. Had she hated me so much that she left me nothing?

 

When the threat of fainting faded, I sat up and reexamined the page, sure I’d misread it. But I hadn’t. Violet got everything.

 

I turned the page looking for my name. I found it the next page over. Rose Anne Gardner received a carved wooden box located in Momma’s closet. A wood box?

 

I found it in the top shelf of her closet, a small wooden trunk about fifteen inches long and eight inches wide. It reminded me of a miniature pirate’s chest with a tiny padlock holding it closed. I searched Momma’s drawers for a key, coming up with nothing. It was fairly light so I knew it couldn’t be packed with money. In fact, if I hadn’t heard a small clunking sound, I would have wondered if it held anything at all.

 

I stared at the grimy chest, my inheritance, and realized in the matter of only a few days I had lost everything.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

 

 

After the initial shock wore off, I got up to fix myself dinner only to discover I’d left the milk out on the counter. I slid the container on the top shelf and noticed a six-pack of beer, two of the bottles gone. I bent over, hanging on the door as I peeked in and tried to figure out how they got there. Momma never allowed The Devil’s Brew in the house. Uncle Earl must have brought them and forgotten them.

 

I set the carton on the counter, staring at it like it was an alien pod dropped off in my fridge, about to pop out a gremlin at any moment. Because I knew something like that was bound to happen; Momma said nothing good ever came from a bottle of beer.

 

At the thought of Momma, my rebellion broke loose and burst out, filling me with thoughts of evilness. I pulled a beer out of the box and turned it in my hands. How could one little brown bottle be a fount of wickedness? In that moment, I decided if it was wicked, I was going to drink it. It took me nearly a full minute to figure out how to get the metal cap off and once I did, I held it in front of me. This was it. The moment I embraced evil. I took a big swig, then coughed and gagged, spewing out liquid like the cherub fountain in Mildred’s backyard. Thank goodness I was standing in front of the sink.

 

So maybe a big gulp wasn’t such a good idea.