Chapter 24

"So, you have to sell everything?" Rachelle asked, after she had spoken to Adam. "Does that include the house?"

Edna sighed.

"I'll have to come back out for that part, I'm sure," she said. "Mostly I just want it empty by tomorrow. Maybe the Reverend Jimmy will use this as a mausoleum or something."

Rachelle had taken a moment to walk around and inspect the house. It was well-maintained. The area surrounding it wasn't affluent by any means but it was decent. She stepped outside to make another call.

"Daddy, I'm at an estate sale near Pico," she told her father. "Um, well I know you've been investing in property. This might be something you want to see. I think you can get it reasonably and probably turn it around fairly quickly. Can you come out?"

Mike Cunningham listened to his daughter while he pecked on his computer keyboard. He had done his best to spread his money out and real estate, particularly in the outer metropolitan region was always a good investment.

"What's the house like?" he asked. He trusted his daughter's judgment. In fact, he trusted his daughter completely. If she thought he would be interested, there was a good bet he'd be interested.

"Nice, a little opulent for the neighborhood, though," Rachelle told him. "The property is spacious and it looks well maintained. Dad, the woman here, well, she got screwed over. Her mother-in-law left her entire estate to some TV preacher but this poor woman had to come out here from Virginia to attend to the sale. She just wants rid of it and I think she'll accept anything remotely sensible for it."

"If you had to guess, where would you place the value?" Mike asked.

"Upwards of $2 million," Rachelle said, hedging a bit. She wasn't very good with real estate. "Sean is on his way out. I'll have a better estimate then."

"What is she asking, cash in escrow today, pending a deed search?" Mike wondered.

"We haven't spoken about it," Rachelle admitted. "I only called because she just sold a bed worth at least two grand for $600."

"Well, ask her," Mike said. "Tell Sean I wanted to know what he thinks it would sell for on the open market, even if we hold it for a year or 18 months. That's your limit."

"What?" Rachelle asked, certain she hadn't heard him correctly.

"You can act as my agent there," Mike said, a smile crossing his lips. "Have Sean set the ceiling for you. He'll be more conservative that I would be, most likely. Don't go above what he recommends, that's all I ask."

"But what if he decides it's worth a lot more than I think it is?" Rachelle proffered.

"Then call me back," Mike laughed. "But you know what things go for, particularly out that way. I doubt he's going to come in too far off your mark. If you can conclude negotiations by noon or so, I can have the money transferred into escrow today – maybe you can go as late as one or two o'clock this afternoon. Otherwise, I'll do it Monday. Call me back if he says it's worth more than $5 million. This is a good plan, Honey. I have every confidence in you."

Rachelle gulped. Her father had always been one for giving her freedom and responsibility. He had always shown faith in her abilities and pride in her accomplishments. Still, she felt a feeling of satisfaction at his words.

"Thanks, Dad," she said. "I'll talk with Edna and Sean and get back with you before a decision is made."

"The decision is yours to make within the guidelines I've set," Mike reiterated. "If you and Sean think it is a good investment, I have no doubt whatsoever it will be. I'll send Arthur out that way if you reach an agreement."

Mike did have confidence in Rachelle's judgment but he also had enough money that he could afford a mistake like this. Even if they paid too much, property out that way sold easily and he wouldn't lose much money on the deal.

"OK," Rachelle said. She took a deep breath. "Thanks, Dad."

"You've never steered me wrong before," Mike said. "Well, outside of fish tacos. That was a fiasco we won't repeat."

Rachelle ended the call with a laugh and went back in the house. She saw Edna getting everyone's opinion about how to run this circus. Rachelle had some ideas herself, so she waded in.

"First thing I suggest is that Edna tells us what she wants for each major item," Rachelle interjected. "That way we can help her by acting as hostesses as well as clerks."

"That's too much work for you girls," she said. "Sorry, ladies."

"Girls works fine, at least for me," Shelly replied. The others agreed. "Besides, you might 200 or 300 people here at once milling around. Do you really want to shake hands with upward of a thousand people today?"

"Not even remotely," Edna groused. "OK, let's try it that way. If it gets to be too much, just let me know."

"Maybe you four could go from room to room and make a list of the items in each," Rachelle advised. "If there is something we can't identify from the list you've got, we'll take a look. Edna, could I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Edna was surprised at how quickly the other four agreed and started to work. Each of the girls was outspoken and intelligent but they appeared to be taking their cues from this one.

"You run a tight ship," Edna said when they walked outside.

"Huh?" Rachelle asked.

"Getting your friends going like that," Edna clarified. "I've got three granddaughters in their teens. It's like herding cats."

Rachelle laughed. She had heard her father use the expression before.

"Well, I'm the organizer and I'm a little more experienced at this sort of thing," she said. "I think we all tend to recognize if someone else is better suited for something and follow them. But God forbid if two of us think we know which way things should go."

Edna smiled.

"What I wanted to talk to you about is this house and the property," Rachelle said. "What is the asking price?"

Edna looked more closely at the girl in front of her. When the group first pulled up, she put them as high-school aged, 15 or 16. But they way they carried themselves suggested older. Their manner of speech suggested they were at least 18 but their bearing suggested perhaps 22 or 23.

"Why do you want to know?" Edna queried. "I'm not being nasty. I just wonder."

Rachelle understood. She was used to people not taking her seriously.

"My father is somewhat well off," Rachelle said. "I spoke to him a few minutes ago and suggested this property might be a worthwhile investment for him. He has authorized me to act as his intermediary. My boyfriend will arrive in a few minutes – with the rest of the moving crew. He is pretty well versed on property values and their potential. I was hoping that you and I might establish a baseline for negotiations. That way we can have a better idea if it is even worth our time to consider a purchase."

The answer satisfied Edna completely.

"Well, to be honest, I have no idea of what the property is worth," Edna admitted. "Frankly, I don't really give a rat's behind either, since outside of the fond memories I have of my family from here and the fact my husband grew up here, I care nothing about it. When your boyfriend arrives, I would have no trouble discussing his perception and fixing a price. I know it has been in the Patrick family since the 1930s. The old woman's lawyer is tied in with that preacher. So that might be a problem. But if your father wants it, I'm sure we can reach a deal."

Rachelle considered what Edna had said and pulled out her phone again.

"Hi, Dad," she said brightly. "Could you go ahead and ask Arthur to come out here?"

"You've reached a deal already?" Mike said with amazement. "We just hung up 10 minutes ago."

"Not yet," Rachelle said. "But I feel confident we will. What I was worried about is the estate attorney sticking his nose in. Edna says it's her call but you know how lawyers can be."

"Who is representing her?" Mike asked. Rachelle presented the question to Edna who shook her head.

"No one, Dad," Rachelle replied. She was pretty sure of the answer before she even asked Edna.

"Well, I'll call Arthur, he'll know what to do," Mike replied. He hung up the phone shaking his head in wonder. Rachelle either had taken a liking to the woman and wanted to help her out or she had seen the opportunity for a real bargain. No, he thought. For her to be this enthusiastic it had to be both.

He could live with either but both worked best.

After a series of false starts and wrong turns, Adam and the guys did manage to arrive at the estate of Louella Patrick. It was still well short of 10:30 a.m., and the driveway held only the SUV Rachelle had been driving. They found the women – and another, older black woman – sitting around the kitchen table with a series of lists on one side and a packet of paper on the other.

Adam walked to Rachelle, who had looked up and smiled when they entered.

"Give me your hands," he said. Rachelle looked confused but complied.

"This is your left hand," Adam said with mock severity. He put his hand on Rachelle's left hand then moved it to her right. "And this is your right hand. If you get confused, put them palms down in front of you. The thumb that makes the 'L' is left."

"What are you talking about?" Rachelle said in puzzlement.

"You told us to go left on Waymont Road," Adam said. "If Walt wasn't looking out the side mirror and saw the sign behind us, we'd be in Watts by now. Poor Sean was sitting in the back of that beast because we were told it was only a 10 minute drive."

"Oh," Rachelle said as she tried to remember the conversation. "I guess I did. Sorry about that."

"You must be Rachelle's boyfriend," Edna said, extending her hand to Adam.

"I must not be," Adam replied with a smile. "Because that guy behind me with the brown hair would be a might bit upset if I tried."

"Not to mention that other people would be a little displeased," Allie said with raised eyebrows.

Introductions were made all around.

"Where are the rest?" Edna asked. "I mean, I think I've heard each of you mention that your boyfriend was coming to help you move that stuff."

The girls exchanged glances and shrugs.

"We share the tall one," Allie said, indicating Shelly and Sarah. "Sorry, I hope that doesn't present an issue for you?"

"I learned one thing from the old bitch who lived here," Edna said. "I try to never let my ideas of what is correct interfere with what others think. If you're happy with the situation, I'm all for it. If you're not happy, then I recommend you do whatever you can to change it. Anything else is not my business."

"Thanks, Mrs. P.," Shelly said with sincerity. "I think we are all happy. But we're sort of new at this and I guess we're a little more worried about what others might think that we realized."

Rachelle had moved Sean aside and was talking to him. Sean motioned Walt over and the three of them started to have a whispered conversation. The rest of the group started to make signs for the suggested price for each item. All the girls knew that Edna was asking for far less than what she could get and that most everything would be purchased by the first person to see it.

Edna took Adam by the arm and led him to the room just inside the front door.

"Is this the bed?" Adam asked. "Wow, that's really nice."

He pulled out the wad of bills from his pocket.

"How much did you say?" he asked Edna.

"Six hundred but not for the bed," Edna answered. "It's for everything in this room – there are some clothes in the closet if they want them. I would tell you to rip out the tub in the bathroom but I think one of your friend's dads might be disappointed."

"Uh," was the best reply Adam could come up with. He didn't know much about the value of, well, anything. But he thought $600 was a touch low for myriad items in the room. "Do they know that they bought the whole room?"

Edna laughed gleefully.

"Of course not," she said. "They had to force me to let them pay at all. They volunteered to help me out here. It is the least I can do for them. But I figured you could clue the guys in and the girls might never know until I'm back on a plane from Virginia."

Adam smiled.

"So I catch hell and you get away Scot-free," he said with a laugh. "It's a good plan from your end."

"Well, you can handle three girlfriends," Edna said with a gleam in her eye and a slight shrug.

"Which means I catch three times the hell," Adam pointed out. "You're not helping yourself here. But sure, I can always plead ignorance. I do it well."

"You remind me of my Terence," Edna said, shaking her head. "He was the best I ever saw at getting away with stuff just because he was nice. This was his room growing up. I'm not sure who stayed down here recently but the clothes and things are women's and they are all really nice. I'm too old to wear any of the stuff but I hid some things in my bags for my granddaughter. The list just said 'Selected items, women's clothing.' So I selected."

Adam couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll bet you taught your husband a thing or two about getting away with stuff," he said as he shook his head. Edna just did her best to look innocent.

"Open the closet door and look in the back corner," Edna said conspiratorially.

Adam complied and saw a green heart with "T.P + E.N = 4Ever" written in it.

"We were 12 years old when we wrote that," Edna said. "I think Terence's father knew about us but he never said a word. That was the 1950s and things weren't always the best for folks like me. But when Old Mrs. Patrick found out she threw a hissy fit – then I think she threw a few others things. Terence and I drove to Las Vegas to get married but they wouldn't let us."

"Why?" Adam asked.

"I'm black," Edna said, as if it were obvious. Recognition dawned on Adam instantly.

"And Terence is not black," he said. "Sorry, I like to pretend that things like that never mattered. What did you do?"

"We drove to Canada," Edna said. "We got married up there and lived there for a while. Then we moved back East. Things were just as bad there. It's funny. Back then, we heard all this stuff about the South. I'm sure you've heard of Jim Crowe Laws and old Bull Connors."

Adam nodded glumly.

"Well, the first place Terence and I lived that no one seemed to care in the least was this little town in northern Virginia," she said. "I mean, that's still classified as the South. At least it is to me. Even in Boston and Pittsburgh, they had 'colored only' drinking fountains and restaurants. We had been married for 25 years before things got much better. I have two daughters in their 40s. One married a white man and one married a black man. Both men treat me as well as they treat their own mothers.

"Gary's family lives three blocks from me, his mom and dad, I mean. We have dinner together all the time and we always take trips to places like Atlantic City or the beach. Mark's family lives only a little further away. I doubt they would piss on me if were on fire. It's sad. What's sadder is that Gary is white and Mark is black. I taught school for 20 years all over the place. One thing I learned is it doesn't matter what is on the outside, it's what's inside that counts."