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SYNTHESIS Chapter 10 - "Will"
It was always amusing—or offensive, depending on their attitude—if wearying, when people resorted to stereotypes when encountering her. She couldn't count how many times it was assumed she always wore a sari, or "worshiped cows," or ate nothing but curries, flatbreads, and chutneys. While she still loved the traditional dishes of her native country, her daily American breakfast of coffee and breakfast cereal and buttered toast suited her equally well, and it was this she was preparing as she began her day early, as always, when her cell phone pinged. She wondered which of her most troubled patients it might be, ticking off prospects in her mind: the young bride-to-be so tense about her upcoming marriage that she was constantly in hives? The veteran drill sergeant who suffered from PTSD and was desperate to cover up the condition? The middle-aged woman whose abusive mother had destroyed her trust? All of them needed particular attention, which she hoped she was ready for at this time of the morning, before she'd had a chance to meditate. So she was surprised to see the text was from two of her least intrusive patients, the ones whom she saw weekly only on "maintenance." And why were they calling--hadn't they let her know they would be away that week? But there it was, in troubling short prose: "Please Zoom call us immediately if possible. Will reimburse if necessary. Goren." Dr. Kashvi Chaudry paused in surprise. 'Reimburse'? Where were they? And, in puzzlement, she opened Zoom on her computer, and requested that Robert Goren join a meeting. The quality of the image on his phone was nowhere as good as on his computer. But once he adjusted for distance she could read his face plainly, and, for the first time since October 13, 2021, she said, "Robert, something's changed. Tell me what's happened." . . . . . The reading of the will was held in Marcel Pepin's study. They were, as Alex observed cynically, 'dressed for success' again, tucked away at the rear. The attorney, who looked as if he came from Hollywood central casting for a television legal series (tall, dark hair shot with silver, piercing blue eyes, impeccable designer suit, implacable square face), was seated at Pepin's desk with his assistant (a short, stout woman with a mop of red hair) at his left, and to his right sat Madame Pepin, Yves and his wife, Stéphanie and her partner, and Laurent. A dozen others sat crowded in folding chairs. Bobby shifted restlessly in his chair, which had come from the dining room, as Antoine had been critical of the ability of a folding chair to accommodate Bobby's height and size. Alex was comfortable in a matching seat because Antoine's keen sense of propriety considered it insulting to have the husband seated in a proper chair while his wife was relegated to a folding chair. Other women in folding chairs stared at her disapprovingly, but Alex only restlessly played with the fingers of her left hand when not running her thumb over the engraved clasp of her silver bracelet. A string of legalities opened the proceedings, followed by a long list of bequests. None were a surprise. Madame Pepin received the bulk of her spouse's assets; upon her death the remainder went to the three children equally. The property in Chamonix went to Yves, who looked dour, but his wife appeared pleased. Alex wondered if she were a skier; she presumed Yves would be reluctant to return to the place where his father had died. The property in Nice was bequeathed to Stéphanie, who acknowledged it with a sad smile. A property in Quebec, Canada, was Laurent's legacy. He glanced at Bobby and Alex and gave a very cliché Gallic shrug. More bequests were peppered out to the other people in the room, who turned out to be fellow government workers, one business partner, and cousins. Finally, "To my daughter Mignon Olivia, I leave an annual sum to cover her education and required supplies and room and board through her university years, to end when she matriculates, through her 25th year. Once she is gainfully employed or otherwise financially provided for," (Alex mentally translated that as "lands a rich husband") "if before the age of 25, the bequest ceases, to be directed to–" and he named an organization whose name suggested to both of them that it was a charity that supported abused children. Bobby raised a brow at this and Alex nodded; Pepin appeared to be acknowledging Nicole's past. "All other decisions regarding the upbringing of my daughter Mignon Olivia revert to her mother, Mademoiselle Madeleine Haynes," and Alex murmured sardonically for Bobby's ears only, "Well, that was mighty nice of him." Maître Achard and his legal clerk Tartoun concluded with a formal, "This completes the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Marcel Allard Gérard Pepin." "What–" Alex mouthed and Bobby straightened, his brows furrowed. "Next," Achard said, regarding the assembly over his glasses, "I have a short Last Will and Testament that I prepared in May 2021 for Mademoiselle Madeleine Hayes upon her return from the United States. This document was witnessed by Monsieur Marcel Pepin as well as Mademoiselle Luisa Carvallo." Luisa has known all along, was their shared glance. Alex shifted uneasily, watching Madame Pepin lean back in her chair with a self-satisfied...smirk, she would have classified it...and Laurent was already giving them an apologetic look. Bobby's face was pale, as if he had already guessed what the document contained. "The will at first provides a small bequest for her child, Mignon Olivia, that all Mademoiselle Haynes' jewelry which was a gift from Marcel Pepin be left to her child, as well as all her books," said Achard placidly. And then he looked up, his eyes resting squarely on Maison Duplantier's American visitors. "The will also contains a request that, should Mademoiselle Haynes die or otherwise be completely unable to care for the child Mignon Olivia, and that Monsieur Marcel Pepin also die or otherwise be completely unable to care for the child Mignon Olivia, her friends Robert O. Goren and Alexandra V. Eames Goren assume guardianship of the child Mignon Olivia until the age of her majority," and Achard sharpened his voice for emphasis, "should they freely choose to do so. Mademoiselle Haynes states that Monsieur et Madame Goren are the only two people she would trust to love her daughter and raise her with the care she needs." Maître Achard closed the folder containing the paperwork, then concluded, "This completes the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Madeleine Haynes." . . . . . When Bobby finished relating the morning's events to Dr. Chaudry, Alex exploded. "Damn her! She's known this the entire time we've been staying here. So did Laurent. That's what they were talking about the night of the dinner party. They had both seen Nicole's will, and not recently, either." Bobby asked simply, "What do we do?" The psychiatrist straightened abruptly at his question. "Robert, you know that isn't a decision I can make." He expelled his breath. "I stated it badly. But we need...advice–" "You're welcome to discuss anything with me, but the choice itself appears to be simple. You can either take in the child or not." All Alex's anger had bled out and now she simply looked tired. "I wish it was. I think I mentioned Mignon last year, when we met her. Did Bobby tell you about her?" "Yes. He spent some time talking about her. She sounds...intriguing." "She is. And...she's a beautiful child. Intelligent. Loving. Quick. But she's...spoiled. I don't mean that as an insult. She isn't greedy or demanding. Actually...she reminds me a little of Ana. But this is a child who's used to unlimited clothing, trips to the Riviera and to Chamonix, who has had a nanny since she was a baby...but coming to live with us? In a tiny house...going to public school–" Dr. Chaudry regarded her curiously. "What bothers you about that, Alexandra? Robert explained her living arrangements to me. She pretty much only has had her mother to really love her, her father when he wasn't busy and didn't have to be with his legal family. Perhaps she'll miss her hundred party dresses or trips abroad. But the way you have both described her, would she not appreciate love more? What are you keeping back?" Bobby admitted reluctantly, "Dr. Chaudry...Kashvi...Alex and I...we're a couple of...old bachelors who found each other again and got married...I think we both wanted children when we were younger, but now...when we're set in our ways- And that's another thing--I'm almost 62 years old. Alex will be 58–" Dr. Chaudry smiled. "My mother was forty when I was born, my father fifty. So when I was Mignon's age, my father was nearly your age, Robert. My mother told me I kept them young. Or are you trying to say that due to your age you won't be able to adapt? Yet in the past eighteen months you've adapted to one another and all the changes that made in your respective lives, and the change has enriched you both. You've tried new things that might have been stressful previously, like...hosting two children over a long weekend...writing a book...giving solace to a terminally-ill girl...appearing on television. You have coped admirably. So--one more try. What's your real concern?" Bobby said slowly, "When Alex and I began this relationship, the first thing I asked was 'What if this isn't the right thing?' and she answered, 'Then we take a step back.' As an adult, she had the option to leave. But a child...has no choice- What...if we–" Alex finally asked bluntly, "What if we screw up? She's already been hurt–" "So...you're hesitant because...you're...fallible?" The doctor queried tentatively. "You know, I expected this reaction from Robert. This is has always been deathly serious for him and understand his fears. He grew up in an unstable environment; he's always feared he would do to a child what was done to him. Alexandra, you've had the exact opposite experience. Did you love your parents?" Bobby had the phone set so she could see both their faces. Alex looked startled at the abrupt question and retorted indignantly, "We've talked about my family--what kind of question is that?" "I'll consider that a 'yes.' Did your parents make mistakes?" was the mild reply. Alex bit her lip. "Well...of course, but this–" "Did they apologize for their mistakes?" Alex gave a wry smile. "Most of the time." "Alexandra, you carried your sister's baby and gave birth to him for her. You have been involved in his life, and those of your nieces. Robert, you had yourself confined to a prison to help a nephew you'd met only once. You took tender care of your mother when her illness made her childlike and dependent. You both work with children weekly. You cared for Luciana and Carlos one weekend, and reveled in it. You both care about the important people in your life." Dr. Chaudry paused. "Do you perhaps think this situation might have been different if you were younger? Ten...twenty years ago, either of you--would you have been perfect parents, making no mistakes?" She was met with silence. Then, "No," Alex admitted. Bobby gave a wry smile. "Definitely not." "There are no perfect parents," Dr. Chaudry said gently, "and all first-time parents are amateurs. You make mistakes, you stumble, you apologize or do whatever else you need to do to correct the mistake, to make things right, and you go on. If you wish to do this, take the leap. I have no doubts about either of you, and I'll be here for you. But I do have one suggestion," and here they looked at her in expectation. "You have emphasized repeatedly that Mignon is an intelligent child, precocious for her years. You tell me there is a provision made by her father to care for her--the boarding school, the camp, the nanny--until she's old enough to govern herself. Certainly the final decision must be made by adults, but-" She took a breath. "I suggest you ask Mignon what she would prefer. Let her know she has options. Explain them to her. See if she understands. See what she says."
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