Gerald Nizbit stared at the text on his screen in astonishment, then he picked up the phone. “Helen,” he said crisply to his assistant. “Get me my lawyer on the phone, then Margaret Pratt, then my mother — in that order!”
Helen had been Gerald’s personal assistant for ten years, and she knew he wasn’t a particularly patient man, so she immediately started calling his attorney.
In his office, Gerald was staring at the screen and shaking his head in disbelief.
Oh, he was going to pay her back for this!
Finally, Helen managed to get hold of the lawyer and put him through. “Sam,” said Gerald crisply.
“Old boy, I just wanted to advise you that you committed a faux pas! You sent me my mother’s will for approval instead of sending it to her.”
On the other side of the line, the lawyer blustered his apologies and embarrassment, but Gerald had said what he wanted to say, so he quickly dismissed him and hung up.
He sat staring out of his huge floor-to-ceiling window at the snowy New York skyline until the phone rang again.
This time it was Margaret Pratt.
Gerald outlined his requirements succinctly and told her, “I want it for today, Miss Pratt.” He listened to her objecting on the other side of the line, then interjected.
“If you can’t get it sorted, I’ll go to someone who can.” The response on the other side of the line made him smile grimly. “This afternoon then, at 17:00,” he said and hung up.
He picked up the internal phone. “Helen, you can get me my mother now,” he said.
Within seconds, the ever-efficient Helen was patching through Mrs.
Edith Nezbit.
“Mother!” Gerald said. “I have two things to tell you.
First of all, Sam Kelson sent me your new will by mistake…and I want you to pack your bags immediately.”
Sitting in the lounge of Gerald’s gorgeous house where she lived with him, Edith was speechless. “Gerald…Are you upset about the will?
Please let me explain…”
“I don’t need your explanations, Mother, I need you to have your bags packed and be ready to leave by 16:00,” Gerald said and hung up.
Edith sat there with her heart pounding. She’d thought Gerald would understand!
He was the youngest of her three children, and the one who’d always stood by her, helped her through the difficulties of life, and when Edith’s arthritis threatened to cripple her this last year, even though she was only 62, he had taken her home to live with him.
Edith went upstairs to her room and packed her bags. Yes, she’d left all her money to her two older children, but she honestly thought Gerald would understand.
Edith stared at her suitcase with tears blurring her vision.
She had hurt her most beloved and kindest child!
She had to explain! Edith called Gerald’s housekeeper to help her with her suitcase and went downstairs to wait anxiously for Gerald.
At 16:00, there he was, punctual as ever.
He walked in, gave her a brief peck on the cheek, and Edith cried, “Please Gerald, let me explain!”
“I don’t have time for explanations, Mother. Come,” he said.
“Everything is arranged.” He picked up Edith’s bag and carried it out to his car and put it in his trunk.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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