It must have been my week for shocks. It started Wednesday at work. I received a telegram telling me that my Uncle Roger had died. I didn't even know he was ill. He had canceled our usual summer campout but I thought he must have just been busy. An even bigger shock was the line that required me to be at the reading of the will. They even sent me instructions for travel by air.
I showed the telegram to my boss and requested three days of bereavement leave. He emphatically said, "NO!" I would have to take vacation time instead. I thought that was strange because the company I worked for was a division of my Uncle's corporation, Pacific Explorations. I was sure that I was authorized the leave. After arguing with him for half an hour I told him I wanted two weeks of vacation. He denied my request. I thought he was strangely hostile. I couldn't understand it.
At lunch time I took the telegram to Human Resources. They granted me the leave without batting an eye but they wouldn't give me the vacation without my bosses approval. I shrugged it off. I thought I'd go to the funeral and the reading of the will. When I got the vacation I'd go camping and remember all the times I'd gone camping with Roger. He didn't have any children of his own and his wife, aunt Abigail, died three years ago. We'd camped for a week every summer since I was twelve. He was almost like a surrogate father to me. He really helped me grieve after my father and mother, his sister, died in a plane crash returning home from my college graduation ceremony. I wondered what he had left me. I knew it wouldn't be much but was happy that he thought of me at all.
About two in the afternoon my boss called me in and chew my ass up one side and down the other over me going to HR. He assigned me to straight mid-shifts starting the Tuesday following my bereavement leave. He threatened, "You may have gotten over this time but you'll pay for it. Believe me you'll pay." He turned and stomped off before I had a chance to say anything.
The following morning I went to the airport in San Diego. I checked all the airline ticket counters and was uniformly told that there was no ticket waiting for me. I reread the telegram and almost slapped my forehead. It plainly stated that I was to go to the private charter terminal. I retrieved my car from long term parking and drove to the private terminal. I almost lost my cool when I found Uncle Roger's corporate jet waiting to pick me up. I'm sure my jaw was hanging open all the way up the steps into the plane. I'd expected a coach class ticket not VIP treatment.
I mulled things over all the way from San Diego to Monterey. My mind was still churning as the fields around Monterey materialize out of the fog as we were coming in for a landing.
My next surprise was being met by my Uncle's limo and his personal assistant, Audrey. Audrey was a slim willowy woman who stood about five foot eight in, what looked like extremely uncomfortable, five inch heels. Her auburn hair was rolled tightly in a french roll. She was dressed in a conservative business suit, the skirt came down just below her knees and she wore black hose. She wore little jewelry, onyx studs in her ears with a small diamond mounted in each stud and a tasteful onyx necklace. There was a feminine and tasteful watch on her wrist. She was beautiful. I was becoming numb to surprises when we drove, not to a hotel but to my Uncle's estate. Audrey had my luggage put in one of the guest suites.
After I'd freshened up Audrey sat me at the dining room table and pulled out a large packet of papers.
"I'm so glad you're here. It will make things so much easier," she said.
I noticed dark circles under her eyes. She wasn't disheveled but looked very tired. "So, when are the other cousins arriving?" I asked.
"They'll be here by six thirty this evening. The reading of the will is tomorrow at one in the afternoon. The service is Saturday. Your uncle wanted to be cremated and his ashes scattered over the bay. I'm hoping you'll stay for the service and to help scatter his ashes on Sunday. I've already arranged permission to scatter his ashes at the entrance to the bay. We can take his boat to a point halfway between the headlands that define the bay. That's where he wanted to be laid to rest."
I could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
She turned to the packet and handed me a list of instructions that Roger had written. She had recited them to me perfectly.
Next she handed me a sealed letter. "You're uncle told me to give this to you immediately upon his death. I'm sorry, this was the best I could do."
"I'm sure this is fine," I replied.
She flashed me a quick smile, "I would have come down on the plane and given it to you but I had other things I had to take care of."
I patted her hand. "This is soon enough. Now let me read."
She folded her hands in her lap and watched while I opened the letter and read.
Dear Ryan,
When you get this I
'
ll be dead.
I
'
m sure Audrey will get it to you as soon as possible.
She
'
s an amazing assistant and an amazing woman.
You have a lot of decisions to make in the next few weeks, whatever you decide be kind to her she
'
s been my rock since Abby died.
What I wanted tell you is, I
'
ve been watching you and your cousins closely for years.
What's going to happen over the next few days and weeks is the result of my observations.
I also want you to know I've enjoyed our summer outings immensely and regret that my illness made it impossible this year.
I can
'
t and won
'
t tell you the details of my will but I hope you
'
ll stay around for the reading.
I think you
'
ll be pleasantly surprised.
I hope you
'
ll be here for my burial at sea so to speak.
I want to warn you about Sherwin Wilson.
He
'
s the CFO of the corporation.
I
