Chapter 22

Michelle hugged Melissa as they laid Walt Wilson to rest. It was now 1952 and the twins were in their mid sixties. Their age was showing even though they made several trips to the salon a week. They even flew down to the hot spings in Georgia to try to bring their beauty back to them. But the spa could only do so much. They spent hours in mud packs, getting massages, using multiple oils and creams, plus anything that was on the market at that time. It did little good. They learned that they could not turn back the clock.

Melissa wept as Michelle steered her back to the limo for a stiff drink. Michelle lost Ray Smith when he walked out on her the year before. "You're getting too old," Ray sneered as he packed his things. "Your cunt is just like sandpaper." "You're no spring chicken yourself," Michelle shot back. "You can't get it up like you did a few years back." Ray stopped his packing for a moment to look at her, "How can I get it up when I have to put my dick into a wrinkled pussy that's probably full of yeast and other shit." "Not a penny," Michelle screeched. "You won't get a penny from me you fucking leech. All you were good for was a decent fuck and now you can't even do that. Talk about getting old, you're cock can't get hard even if I have to suck it."

Mike and Marilyn were in the the limo with Melinda on her lap. The pregnant girl was well on their way to having their second child. The heat of the day was too much for her so Mike stayed with her in the air conditioned funeral vehicle. "This one is much worse than when I carried out little girl here," she complained. "You look beautiful being pregnant and all," Mike smiled at her. "Oh sure!" Marilyn sneered even though her husband was joking. "Big fat and with stretch marks already and about to get some more. You know, I wouldn't fuck myself the way I look." "Honey, since you won't, I will," Mike smiled at her. Since he met her at age thirteen he never looked at another woman like he did her. Yes, he stared at attractive ladies in the past especially when he was in Hollywood to consult on a cheap 'B' grade movie of his heroism; he stared at Elizabeth Taylor. She even smiled at him a few times with the knowledge he was a war hero. His thoughts were only of the luscious little blonde waiting at home for him. "It's getting to the point I'm going to have to jerk you off or give you blow jobs." "I won't complain, and I'll even eat your pussy so you can get some pleasure."

Michelle was guided into the back seat by her sister. "Get us a drink, will you, Mike?" Melissa asked as she continued to comfort Melissa. "No trouble," Mike said, dropping to his knees to open the small refrigerator. "What's your poison, Mom?" "Bourbon straight," she replied, wiping the dampness off her forehead. "Aunt Michelle?" "The same only if there is some ice, put in a couple of cubes." "Honey?" he asked his wife. "Nothing! I'm not feeling well," she said.

When the two other limos were loaded with their daughters, sons-in-law, and their children. The funeral director pulled out and led the procession out of the cemetery onto Western Avenue.

After weeks of discussion, Michelle and Melissa decided to show the gems from the Great San Franscico to their immediate children. At first, they only wanted to divide equally for the girls. Now they wanted Marilyn to get an equal share. They called on an honest jeweler to be on hand when they opened the safety deposit box. The mothers, Olivia, Mona, Jenny, Bridget, Marilyn and Mike were on hand at the bank where all their wealth was stored. "I can't believe this," Mr. Katznelson, sounded awed as he appraised each piece. "How did you come across so many beautiful settings and jewels." "From the earthquake in San Francisco," Melissa said. "Everyone was killed so we took them." "You took them?" "Everyone was turning over money and jewelry and other luxurious things to the police but they were keeping those things for themselves. We decided that if the cops were going to pull that, we thought we should keep them since everyone owing this were dead. "I can understand that but why keep them here all these years?" "We concluded that we'd give them to our children when they became adults." "I understand,"rhw jeweler said. "Beautiful, outstanding! What craftsmanship! They have very few artists like this anymore." "What are they worth?" Olivia asked. She was beautiful just like her mother. "I can't imagine," Katznelson said. "Hundreds of millions... at least. This makes the owners one of the richest people in the world." Meanwhile, Melissa had a bank officer filling out forms for four more boxs so each woman could have their own strongbox. Plus to take all of the twins old cash and put it into newer bills plus invest most for them. "Are you selling?" Katznelson asked as he finished inspecting the last piece. "We have no intention of selling, but we're giving all these to our girls," Michelle said. "The income taxes on these would be enormous. Now that our children are the owners, it will be up to them to decide on whether to cash in or not." "I'm making good money," Mike said. "If Marilyn sees something she really wants to take home, she can. But I think we should keep this stuff right where it is." "It will appreciate with time," Katznelson stated. "I'm sure it was only worth no more than five million back in 1906, now... who knows?"