Rise of a Matriarch Chapter 7 Domination and Departure
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Oh BrotherChapter 6 free porn video
Bernie said, “Breakfast, Mr. Austin.”
On the picnic table chained to the concrete pad, the heat from the coleman stove burner was just finishing off the omelet.
“Ham, cheddar cheese and diced red pepper,” Bernie said. I hadn’t asked but she could see the question in my eyes.
“Just like I like it,” I said. “How did you know?”
“It’s in the will,” Bill said, coming around the back of the tent.
“Charlie’s will?”
“Yes,” Bill said.
“Where did the lantern and tent come from?” I asked, “And how did I get in bed?” I took a fork of omelet and spread it on the toasted bread, added a fork of hash browns and a spoon of mild salsa, folded the slice of bread over the mix and took a bite. “Mmmm, that’s tasty.”
The lantern and tent ... and the Coleman stove ... all came from the metal storage shed behind the summer house. The summer house was our third year at the lake. Charley bought it when he’d sold his first novel.
Charlie set it up as a temporary rental ... and occupied at the moment. After we toured the town and stopped at the boat yard to look at the collection of sailboats Charlie had bought for his kids to learn how to sail, we were on the road again Just the three of us ... and my memories.
The new roads have taken all the fun away from traveling. Michigan is industrial in the middle and deserted on the edges; in the winter, anyway. From about Michigan 57 north it’s pretty barren. A lot like Holland; bedroom communities for the big cities and tourist ‘attractions’ for the rest. Holland the country not Holland the city.
We stopped in Saint Johns and looked at the many CBA rental homes. Sad ... my growing up home is still law offices ... but I don’t recognize the name on the sign. All the rest of the houses on my one block street are gone.
We passed through Lansing on the way back to Belleville. Everything is gone ... REO is a big grassy field ... torn down and remade. All the places I used to go.
They say, you can never go home. But that isn’t true; home went away. Trash took over.
In Belleville, we went to Charlie’s home. To use a much used cliche; OMG!
Saunas; not one, not two, but three. One for mom and dad ... and 10 friends. One for her older kids ... and 10 close friends. And one for the junior league; big enough for company. All three had outside access perfect for rolling in the snow.
Hot tubs; the most interesting was the one on the boat dock. Ten or twelve soakers and the lake to cool off in. The master suite has a two person actual tub ... with a glass walled shower for four.
“Where’s the swimming pool?” I wanted to know. There had to be one. Both Cassie and Will were swimmers.
Bill pointed at a very long building behind a hedge next door. “One hundred sixty-four feet in length but only 24 feet wide wide and eleven and a half feet deep,” he said. “Training pool. It’s actually in meters but America doesn’t use meters and I never bothered.”
The recreation room was a Bar. Capitol B. Glittery glass, a triple shelf of liquor across the backbar ... a full length mirror and the bar, all sixty feet of it was taken from a building in Superior, Wyoming in the 1920’s. A feature was the shelf with 4 nickel slot machines. There were three Brunswick pool tables and one regulation billiards table; the one daddy gave away when he remodeled the basement into offices.
“So, pool building land goes with the house?”
“And the house on the other side,” Bill said.
“You mentioned something about an island?”
The island was half way across the lake. Bill pointed it out. I could see a small boat and the peak of a roof in the woods.
“The island house gets more use in the winter. The whole town skates and the house is used as the warming lodge.”
“Charlie was popular?”
Bernie said, “No, but his kids were. Everybody misses them.”
“Let’s go read the will. I have to read it in front of two witnesses. My secretary and the Police Chief from across the street. Bernie ... go fetch the cop.”
Bernie glared.
“Please,” Bill said.
Nearly three hours later;
“So that’s it?” I said. “It’s all mine?”
“Yes,” Bill said. He handed me a manila envelope ... the kind with the winged staple to hold it shut. There was about a million feet of clear packing tape wrapped from heel to staple. The only way in was to slice open the top ... oh ... there were lots of ways in ... but anything else would show. “And this.”
He had me examine it carefully. Then his secretary and the cop examined it and certified that the envelope had never been opened.
“What’s in it?” I asked.
“Nobody living knows,” Bill said.
“You gonna open it?” Bernie asked. She was bouncing ... and jittering, too.
“I think I’ll wait and see what my wife wants to do.” I said. “Can I go home now?”
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