The Legacy (6 page)

I can't believe this is happening–he just asked me to be his wife! I
am going to be Mrs. Ingo Kelly! How did I win a man so amazing? What
did I do to deserve such a blessing?

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you, but I am trying to get in
touch with Cisely Matthews.”
“Yes. Hold on just a minute and I’ll get her.”
Jessica appears in Cisely’s bedroom doorway and points
to the phone. “It’s for you, dear.” Noticing wariness in Cisely's
eyes as she turns to get the phone, Jessica leaves to give her
some privacy, though she can't help being curious. The female
caller has a prominent southern accent. Jessica can’t recall
Cisely ever receiving a phone call from home. She silently prays
everything is okay with her family.

At the sound of my cousin’s voice, I sit on the edge of
the bed. In all the time I have been in Utah, no one in the
family has ever called me, nor have I expected them to. Even
when I was in Asheville I received no contact from relatives
unless I initiated it, which leads me to believe something is
definitely wrong.

“I’m doing okay, girl, but I have some bad news. Your
mama died last night.”
It takes a moment before the statement registers in my
head. In stunned silence, I press a hand to my mouth as my
cousin's words take hold in my mind.
Mama is gone!
I can't believe it!
“Cisely, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I finally answer. “How did it happen?”
“The paramedics said she had a heart attack. Kenneth, a
guy she started hanging out with last week, called them. By the
time they got there it was too late. She was already gone. I
found your number in her purse.”
Heaving a weary sigh, my gaze fixes on a hummingbird
hovering just outside the window. So many thoughts drift
through my mind concerning my mother’s life and what she
went through, but none of them produce the tears I would
expect to come. I briefly wonder if something is wrong with
me. This was my mother, the woman I spent most of my life
with, and right now I can’t even cry for her. We have never
been close, but I should feel a little more grief. Surprisingly,
there isn’t even a desire to cry.
Maybe I’m in shock.
Velma’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Well, Mama
told me to call you so you could take care of the funeral
arrangements. You’re the only one who can since you are
named the beneficiary on her life insurance policy.”
I realize
it
is
my
responsibility
to
take
care
of
the
arrangements, regardless of whether there is insurance or not,
because I am Geneva’s only child, and I know from experience
I can’t count on my mother’s family for anything.
“I’ll be there by tomorrow evening.”
“Okay, girl, I’ll tell Mama you’re coming.”
Hanging up, I numbly return my gaze to the window,
staring at nothing in particular.
I can’t believe Mama is gone.
We haven’t really been a part of each others' lives for
years, but it is still hard to imagine her not being in the world.
I guess all those years of drinking finally caught up with her. But
she’s better off now
. A soft knock draws my gaze to the door.
Ingo and Jessica enter. He sits down next to me and takes
my hand. “What is it, love?”
“My mother passed away last night.”
Jessica gasps softly. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry.”
Ingo pulls me close. “So am I.”
“Thank you.”
“What can we do?” he asks.
“I need to
go
back
and take
care
of
the
funeral
arrangements. I guess I’m the beneficiary of her insurance
policy.”
“Thank heavens she had insurance,” Jessica says, patting
my free hand.
“I would like to try and get there by tomorrow evening. I
have some money–”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ingo interrupts. “I’ll take care
of everything.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
He puts up a hand, halting my protests. “Listen, love,
you’re going to be my wife, which means everything I have is
yours. Please let me do this.”
I am deeply touched by his need to take care of me, and I
can’t imagine loving him more than I do at this moment.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Hesitance
fills
me,
producing
nervous
knots
in
my
stomach. Ingo squeezes my hand, sensing there is something
more.
“What is it?”
Slow to answer, I look away as tears press. “Well, I know
it’s a lot to ask, but . . .”
“But,” Ingo urges. When I don’t continue, he somehow
guesses what I need but can't bring myself to ask. “Would you
like me to come with you?”
Relieved that he has picked up on my feelings, I exhale
deeply. I have always considered myself independent, never
really needing anyone, but that isn’t true anymore. I need Ingo.
I truly need him. I'm not strong enough to do this alone.
“Yes,” I finally answer.
Kissing my brow, he holds me close. “Nothing you ever
ask could be too much. I want to be there for you, always.”
“And I’ll take care of your shifts at work,” Jessica adds.
I smile at the woman I have come to look to as a mother,
as well as a dear friend. “You have both been so good to me. I
don’t know what I would do without you.”
She squeezes my hand. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Ingo quickly springs into action and makes all the travel
arrangements.
Using
his
laptop,
he
purchases
our
tickets,
reserves the hotel rooms and a rental car. I am grateful to him
for taking care of all the details. He has thought of everything
and I love being taken care of for the first time in my life.
I take a moment to remind him about how distant my
family will be to me, but he assures me everything will be okay.
Ingo is so optimistic about life, and I wish some of his
optimism would rub off on me, especially when it comes to my
family. I need to be strong, and I pray that he will really be
okay. I am used my family's ways, but I don’t want him hurt.
That would make me feel worse than anything they could ever
say to me.
Later in the evening as I sit nestled in Ingo's arms, my
gratitude for the privilege of having him in my life is increased.
I know we will have trials and life won't be perfect, but I'm
determined to be the best wife I can possibly be and try to
make our life together a happy one.

My Aunt Gladys lives in a historical part of town.
Though many homes have been renovated, most of the houses
in her neighborhood are old. Some of them have windows
missing, while others look like a good stiff wind would knock
them right over. Even when I lived in Asheville, I never
ventured to this part of the city. Maybe if my aunt had been
willing to have some kind of relationship with me, I might have
braved it and gone. But just like everyone else, Gladys holds the
mistakes of the past against me. Sure, I made a lot of choices I
will regret for the rest of her life, and I'm not perfect. But then
neither is Gladys.

A sense of dread enters me as we pull up in front of my
aunt’s home, and I can't help wishing we were back at the hotel.
Ingo senses my feelings. “Hey,” he says, raising my hand
to his lips. “I love you, and it’s going to be all right.”
Nodding, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, grateful
he is with me. I couldn't do this without him. “I love you, too.”
We share a brief kiss. Drawing back, I smile nervously and get
out of the car. Unfortunately, my panic only increases as we
head up the walk. My grip on Ingo’s hand tightens.
“I’m right here, love. It will be okay.”
“Please keep telling me that.”
He presses a kiss to my brow before knocking. “Are you
ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I lock a smile in place.
I watch the amused twitch of Ingo's jaw when Velma
opens the door. The girl is completely flabbergasted upon
seeing him with me and it definitely shows. If my nerves were a
little more steady I really
would
laugh.
“Hey, Cis,” she finally says. “Ya’ll come on in.”
“Thank you.” I enter with Ingo close behind me.
Gladys is sitting in an old over-sized green chair smoking
a cigarette. She almost chokes on it upon seeing Ingo. I am
used to the smoke, having been raised around it, as well as
having done my fair share of smoking in the past, but I hope it
won’t be too much for Ingo. At the rate my aunt is puffing and
exhaling, we will probably need to shower and have to make a
trip to the laundromat after we leave.
“Ya’ll have a seat,” Gladys says, waving in the direction of
the plastic-covered sofa. Growing up, I found plastic-covered
furniture to be common in the homes of many people I knew. I
never understood the concept or reasoning behind it, but I
figured there must have been some hidden method behind the
madness.
Once we sit down, I make the introductions. “Aunt
Gladys, Velma, I would like you to meet my fiancee, Ingo.”
“It’s truly a pleasure to meet you,” Ingo says, standing
with his hand outstretched.
What
happens
next
is
both
expected and amusing.
Gladys’ eyes literally bulge from her wide, round face and
Velma’s mouth drops open. Shocked isn’t strong enough to
describe their reactions, but I had expected as much. When it
comes to showing tact, however, my family has definitely been
left out of the loop.
Gladys doesn’t shake his hand but gives a small grunt,
acknowledging him.
“O . . . kay,” Ingo mumbles under his breath. He extends
his hand in Velma’s direction and she shakes it eagerly.
“Where are you from?” Gladys asks as he sits down
again.
“I’m from Melbourne, Australia.”
She again grunts in acknowledgment.
“Okay,” comes his repeated mumble and I fight a laugh
bubbling to the surface.
“How have you two been?” I ask, attempting to lighten
the moment and hold some sort of conversation.
Velma glances to her mother, as if waiting for a response.
“We’re doing fine,” she answers instead.
I wince inwardly as Gladys flings a disgusted look in her
daughter's direction. Mashing her cigarette in a small ashtray on
the arm of the chair, she hefts her large body up and pulls a key
from her pocket.
“Here’s your mama’s extra key. You can go on over there
now if you want. The insurance papers are on the table in the
kitchen.”
Leaning forward, I take the key from her, not missing the
greed in her voice. I know Gladys doesn’t think I should have
the money and would like to lay claim on it herself. It seems all
my family thinks about is what they can get. If you don’t have
anything they want, you are of no use. If you can’t do for or
give
them anything
they
deem valuable,
they
don’t
want
anything to do with you. And I am sure after I go back to Utah,
Gladys will descend on my mother's apartment like a vulture,
taking everything she can get her hands on. Sadly, I have seen it
happen before in my family. It is always expected with the
death of a family member.
I shake my head sadly at her abrupt dismissal.
So, I guess
this is it, then. No how have you been? No it’s good to see you. Just here’s
your mama’s key and you can go now.
Glancing at Ingo to gauge his
reaction, his face is unreadable. He squeezes my hand, though,
and I know he understands my frustration. He shakes his head
slightly at the situation and I draw comfort from that. I have
traveled all this way, have been in my aunt's home for exactly
one minute, and she has barely spoken to me. These people are
supposed to be my family, but they don’t seem to care about
me at all, or at least Gladys doesn’t. I sense Velma warming
slightly, which helps a little.
I finally stand and Ingo quickly follows suit. The sooner
we leave the better as far as I am concerned. Pressing his lips to
my temple, Ingo whispers, “Let's get out of here.”
I nod. “Well, I guess we should head over to Mama’s
place. I'd like to get things taken care of as soon as possible.” I
turn to Velma. “Thank you for calling me. I really appreciate
it.”
Velma opens her mouth to respond, but Gladys cuts her
off. Though Velma and I have never been close, we have
always been civil toward one anther. In some ways I feel sorry
for Velma. It must be hard having such an overbearing mother.
“We didn’t have no choice but to call you,” Gladys
booms. “We sure can’t afford to bury her. She was my sister
and I loved her, but this is your responsibility.” The last words
reek of accusation.
Ingo again squeezes my hand. “It was good to meet you
both,” he says and guides me toward the door, anger furrowing
his brow.
“It was good to see you, Aunt Gladys,” I say, making one
last attempt to elicit a positive response. When there isn't one, I
smile at Velma and again turn to leave.
“I want to talk to you for a moment.” The softness of
Gladys’ voice startles us both.
“Okay.” I am wary, but I genuinely want to make some
sort of peace with my aunt. However, one look at her face tells
me that hope is also futile.
“I want to talk to you
alone
, if you don’t mind.”
Ingo's grip on my hand tightens as he leads me toward
the door. “I’ll bet she does,” he murmurs. “I'm not leaving you
alone with her.”
Stopping, I press my lips to his ear. “Will you wait outside
for me?”
He clearly wants to say no, and is about to, but the
pleading look in my eyes stops him. I want him with me, more
than he knows, but I have to do this alone. I pray for strength
enough to handle whatever my aunt dishes out at me.
“I’ll be right outside,” he says softly.
Taking in his expression, my heart aches, because this is
equally hard for him. He has become so protective of me and I
love him for it. No one has ever made my heart feel so safe. As
he glances back at me, I give him a reassuring smile. He smiles
back and leaves to wait at the car.