Sorry it’s so late, guys. I’m pretty sure I forgot today was Friday! :-\ Been one of those weeks. But I DO have something for you! Better late than never, right? ^_^
“Don’t touch anything.”
“I know, Mother. I heard you the first million times.”
“All we’re doing is taking inventory of Mrs. Wallace’s final belongings, then we go.”
“And leave them here?” Jamie lifted an edge of the old, dusty tarp, peeking underneath. Her mother slapped her shoulder.
“She doesn’t have any next of kin. There’s nowhere for it all to go.”
“So why take inventory? Isn’t that just a colossal waste of time if no one is coming to claim it?”
“The larger items, over in that corner, get sold at auction. I’m pretty sure they’re antiques. The proceeds go to the charity of her choice, which in this case,” her mother looked down at her clipboard and lifted the sheet of paper to look on the second page, “is a place that makes wigs for cancer patients who’ve lost their hair during chemo.” Jamie caught the expression on her mother’s face a moment before she could hide it.
“Why not just donate to cancer research?” Jamie asked, thinking her mother’s thoughts aloud.
“I don’t know, Jamie. I didn’t know Mrs. Wallace very well so I’m not going to pretend to understand her actions. All I know is that she highly valued personal appearance. More than once she chided me for not wearing ‘rouge and mascara’, her words. And she was horrified that I wore sneakers. Even at 94, the woman still wore heels. I mean, maybe she went with the old adage, if you look good, you feel good.”
Jamie shook her head and flipped her long black hair over her shoulder. “Whatever.”
They parachuted another dusty blanket over the third pile of junk they’d made in three hours. Jamie scrunched her nose and turned her face away. Her skin already itched. Her cheeks and forearms felt dry and sticky all at once. Gross. Continue reading