“Come and get it!” Jill calls out as she swirls the metal wand briskly around the inside of the metal triangle that hangs from the ceiling of the front porch. “Come and get it!”

All the grown-ups are congregated in the front yard where they coalesce into their usual cliques to espouse their opinions to one another about current topics and offer bits of advice that they strongly urge the others to heed. Below their convivial façade, they just barely tolerate each other so perhaps their constant bickering, sticking their noses in each other’s business, and maintaining a pretense of superiority are the only true family bonds left among them. Most of them are dressed in casual clothing except Ted, who always dresses in a shirt and tie and tweed sport coat. The others wear designer jeans and colorful shirts or t-shirts boasting some sort of sport team, or special locale or product logo. Most of them have on new, expensive signature shoes, except for William who always wears sandals and shorts no matter what the weather or occasion and, of course, Ted who wears his brushed suede shoes. Since the family gathering is also a memorial dinner, being clean and groomed is commendable and I will give them that much. Otherwise, I find them a petty lot, full of spite and not much to my liking.

The front yard is used for the memorial dinner not just because it is a conspicuous place that can be seen from the road and large enough to accommodate the festivities, but also because the backyard is overgrown with ivy and weeds from years of neglect. The only thing left in the backyard is the squalid remains of an aboveground pool that had been built on the hope that it would entice the younger family members to come and visit more often. The pool should have been drained and dismantled a long time ago and all of it should have been hauled off to the dump. But no one in the family had deign to volunteer to do such a menial and degrading chore, so the eyesore sits there with just a flimsy sheet of plastic covering its stagnant, putrid water.

Uncle Gerald would have enjoyed the family get-together, but he is dead and has been relegated to a post mortem position of guest of honor. A position as Stan jokes would not have been bestowed on him had he been alive. Uncle Gerald was the last of the old generation of the Lynch family and, unlike his departed brothers and sisters, never married and had chosen to stay on the farm. He ended up, as expected, nothing more than a country bumpkin and as Stan jokes his corn didn’t always pop. Since Uncle Gerald had been childless, his siblings’ families became his surrogate family, which meant he didn’t have much of a family at all. Visits from nephews and nieces were few and far between and there were many special occasions that went unannounced to him. Uncle Gerald had been buried and forgotten long before his death by the new generation who pride themselves in being sophisticated town folk, although, unbeknown to them, they are, in spite of their urbane appearances and airs, nothing more than country bumpkins too. Uncle Gerald did have the farmhouse and a few acres plotted right in the midst of a sprawling suburbia which gives Uncle Gerald the reverence and respect of the family now.

Uncle Gerald’s Last Will and Testament was a simple document written in his own hand and, being a common country bumpkin with no real imagination or opinions, simply left everything to his nephews and nieces in equal shares. He had lived long enough to come around and reconcile with his own brothers and sisters, so he had felt that leaving what he had in equal shares to their children would be a fitting gesture of sibling love and family unity. He had chosen Cindy many years ago, when he had all his marbles, to be the executrix of his estate. He probably chose Cindy because she was a savvy businesswoman, was always civil toward him and, not being married herself, wouldn’t be encumbered by any pressures that a family brings.

No one was really sure why Cindy’s older sister Jill had been given the executrix slot there at the very end of Uncle Gerald’s illness. Jill is, of course, another of Uncle Gerald’s nieces, and she did go out of her way to visit Uncle Gerald many times near his end. The other family members took those visits as sort of a family act of commiseration on their behalf that their otherwise busy lives kept them from making themselves. They were grateful to Jill, and they weren’t in any position to care either way about the switch in the will. And, after all, Jill had that scribbled codicil in Uncle Gerald’s feeble hand with an “X” signature on it. It was that Quija-board X, as Stan jokes, that removed Cindy as executrix and replaced her with Jill. The codicil seemed authentic and was witnessed by Jake, an old, hobbled bloke, who was a part-time carpenter and part-time transient. Jake had done odd jobs for Uncle Gerald during his stopovers on his way north for the summer and got cornered by Jill to witness the codicil signing just as the Northern Express was tooting its horn. It goes without saying, though, that Jake now is gone and not around to answer any questions about the codicil. For Jake, being gone suits him just fine as he wanted to get as far away as he could from that “whole can of worms” those city folks were getting themselves into. The farmhouse and the few acres are probably the only real items of value left by Uncle Gerald and Jill can easily handle whatever legal matters need handling. In a way, the family members were all relieved that Cindy wasn’t the executrix. Cindy is arrogant and the only cousin not married and runs a diner downtown that caters to an array of artsy folk and laborers who didn’t know much about politics or fashion. That was enough to give Cindy a scandalous reputation and made her an oddity among the other family members. Jill, on the other hand, is one of them, whatever that meant.

The whole awkward chasm over the queer codicil came to a head earlier that afternoon in the kitchen when Cindy quipped that perhaps with the inheritance Jill’s husband, Reggie, could pay off his bar tab at the diner. This came up right after Reggie had given Cindy one of his profusely repulsive bear hugs he is known for and that nobody, particularly his wife, liked. He had felt that it was necessary at the time to smooth over whatever ruffled feathers Cindy had since, after all, he was practically the head of the family now and it was his job to keep the family together. Once Cindy was able to pry herself free of his mushy embrace, she broached the bar tab issue. Jill bristled at such an insinuation and, in a snippy tone that was her wont when threatened, retaliated by lambasting Cindy with a litany of verbal assaults including how it was just sour grapes on Cindy’s part and she should just grow up and stop being such a baby, and, after all, for Cindy’s information, Uncle Gerald had grave concerns about Cindy’s financial ‘predicament’ which he heard about from a friend that will go nameless. Jill continued her rant by calling Cindy a snob saying she should come down off that high and mighty horse and join the rest of them and then concluded that Cindy should kindly keep her paws off of her husband. As always, Cindy remained undaunted by Jill’s theatrics, and, once given the opportunity to speak, asked curtly if Jill needed the key to Uncle Gerald’s safe-deposit box. Jill spurned the offer saying Reggie had already had the bank drill the box open and, for Cindy’s information, there was nothing in it.

In the midst of the front lawn stands a long makeshift table that has been set up piecemeal out of wood planks and sawhorses and extended by a few wobbly card tables. The main table is covered by a black and white checkered oilcloth which Jill felt was befitting for the occasion. An assortment of dining chairs and folding and patio chairs of one sort or another encircles the row of tables. Atop the tables is an assortment of dishes and bowls full of food that the family members had brought to make up the buffet dinner. Jill, always the fussy hostess, urges everyone to come eat reminding them they all must be ravenously hungry. She entreats and cajoles them all to go to the tables to settle in and eat before everything gets cold. The indisposed adults slowly respond to Jill’s prodding and gradually gravitate toward the food.

The Lynch bloodline has big heads and scowling faces that easily stand out in a crowd. Ted has a big head and is considered a foppish kook with his Errol Flynn-like mustache atop his vitriolic scowl. Ted, whose wife had been bedridden for some time and couldn’t attend, listens pensively to Molly, an in-law with a small head and considered a snooty sot. She raves about a truly terribly movie as he nurses a scotch and soda and tries to figure out how to keep the actual amount of the inheritance a secret from his wife. William, a nervous, anxious sort that constantly jerks his big head even when he sleeps, stands with his wife, Sheila, as they both humbly vow to the Johnsons that they will use whatever they get from the estate for home improvements and their children’s education. The Johnsons are the elderly next door neighbors and dear friends of Uncle Gerald. Chris, The middle-sister of Jill and Cindy, is a compulsive worrywart and busies herself trying to keep track of her child, Alex, whom she hasn’t seen for some time. Alex is Chris’ miracle child since she wasn’t supposed to have children given health problems, but she gave birth to him six years ago. She named him Alex because it sounded amiable and there weren’t any family names she really liked. Chris’ husband, Stan, has been consigned to a wheelchair after a terrible and careless accident left him a paraplegic. He is a jocular sort for an invalid and spends most of his time on the Internet or cooking. Chris and Jill are different as night and day. They both have the same large Lynch head and pudgy scowl, but Chris is gullible and matronly while Jill is pretentious and conniving.

The family gradually settles in at the dining area. A few canines, that were brought though not invited, swarm about the feet of the adults in anticipation of fallen morsels. Cindy remains at the front steps of the house and is talks with Tommy, the eldest cousin of the family and who is called Two-Timing Tommy behind his back. Jill makes a beeline to the two and abruptly interrupts their conversation by telling them that they shouldn’t be loitering around the house and that Cindy is needed at the dining table.

****

“I’m getting a horsey! I’m getting a horsey!” Missy, the youngest of Jill’s children, sings out tauntingly as she prances about in her pretty white party dress. “And you’re not, Alex Rudemeyer, because you’re a retard.”

Alex and Chad sit scrunched together on the stump of a sawed-off tree, sharing the buttery layers of a dinner roll. Alex has a scrawny physique with an extra large head. He offers Missy some of the roll and she stops her taunting, peels off a layer and stuffs it into her mouth. After eating the morsel, Missy wobbly leans over and places a big, mushy kiss on Alex’s mouth as her tiny fingers squeeze hold of his cheeks so she wouldn’t fall over. Gradually, the other children begin converging about the tree stump. Duff, who is built like a bully, but is a sissy at heart, oafishly strolls out to join the others. Then there is the ruckus hullabaloo of Baldwin chasing Aaron about the area in a wild, catch-me-if-you-can type of frolic. Aaron suddenly stops his crazed zigzagging and dodging right in front of Alex and, with a scowl on his face, snatches the last piece of dinner roll from Alex’s fingers and stuffs the whole thing into his mouth. Celeste and Kari slip quietly in behind the boys to see what will happen next. Celeste is tall and shy and Kari is short and animated. Aaron shows Alex his mouth full of gook and begins laughing and then they all laugh.

All the kids are dressed from head to toe in brand new jeans and shirts just like their parents, except for Celeste and Baldwin, who wear shorts and sandals. It is odd to see such new clothes this early in the summer when new clothes are normally bought just before the opening of school a month or so away. The only cousin left out of the group is Reggie Jr., the oldest of the kids, who is within earshot, but who chooses to brood about in the woods alone with his hands in his pockets and spitting clumsily and defiantly at the ground as he paces and listens to the other children. He is fifteen, and at this age he feels he doesn’t fit in with either the children or the adults. Aaron senses this dilemma and abruptly charges out toward Reggie Jr., wielding a stick, and chases him off, hollering at him to get lost, and calling him a “freak”. Apparently, grudges begin early in the Lynch family and Aaron, three years younger than Reggie Jr., must have had a beef with the older cousin to make such a bold foray. Kari quickly confronts Aaron, scolding him for picking on Reggie Jr., telling him to leave Reggie Jr. alone and to mind his own business. It is a standoff, with Kari, arms akimbo and a glowering scowl on her face, getting right up in Aaron’s face and with only Aaron’s manly etiquette keeping him from wrestling her to the ground. The other children try figuring who will do what next and whose side they should be on. After all, life is full of surprises and who knows what will happen. Chad mischievously pulls the bottom of his shirt up over his nose like a bandit bandanna to hide his amusement over the whole gotcha thing that is going on.

It is Celeste who finally intervenes, suggesting that they all play hide and seek. Her suggestion quickly captures everyone’s imagination and defuses the awkward standoff. After all, the children figure it is better playing hide and seek than divvying up sides to fight or answering their parents’ incessant calls to come to dinner. The problem, though, is who is going to be “It” first. There are a number of ways of going about choosing who would be “it” first, some fair and, of course, some not fair. Whoever is chosen first has to be someone the others will want to hide from, but also a person clever enough to actually track them down and find them. Chad, Alex, and Missy are too young to start things off. Duff would need someone to assist him. Aaron and Baldwin would definitely want to seek each other out first then gang up on the others, ruining the whole thing. Celeste or Kari might do, but their hearts are already set on hiding and they each have a perfect spot already picked out. It is Reggie Jr. who volunteers to be “It” first as he strolls into the midst of the gathering. He would be perfect. Aaron wants to go over the rules first, but Reggie Jr. closes his eyes and begins counting out loud so there is no time for rules and it quickly dawns on everyone that it is time to scatter and hide.

The children stampede past the dining area, screaming and hollering as though chased by a scary monster. Missy hesitates momentarily then scrambles after Celeste and Kari across the driveway and disappears into some shrubs. All the parents at the table feel a sigh of relief that the children are getting along so well. Jill points Alex out to Chris and assures her not to worry because Alex is doing just fine and she should sit down by her husband and eat. Stan has already wheeled himself up to his place at the table and devilishly waits for people to try the extra-hot Cajun chicken wings he had brought. He is next to an infant wrapped in a blanket sleeping in a flimsy portable mechanical swing. I’m not sure who the baby belongs to. Next to the baby is William, who has his long, thick hair combed back into an unbraided ponytail. He busies himself dishing out food and chatting guardedly with people around him. He’s preoccupied though, fearful that one day something will slip and his wife, Sheila, will find out just how big his gambling debts really are. He dreams that the proceeds from the estate will be enough to give him a second chance; another shot at it, so to speak, to get out from under that current down-and-out predicament he is in. Sheila sits across from William and has brought a large tossed salad in a deep bluish plastic bowl with soggy lettuce, greenish tomatoes, and spongy croutons that have been soaking in the vinegar dressing too long. Next to William is Ted, who keeps for the most part to himself though he occasionally asks politely for food to be passed his way. He had brought the plastic platter of cold cuts bought at the local deli. Next to his platter is another platter with a row of cold corn on the cob and next to that a couple of tubs of take-out chow mein. Ted wants to lean over and ask Tommy what he thought the estate is worth, but Tommy is too occupied trying to get Jill’s attention. Jill is pairing the Johnsons up to sit next to Tommy when Tommy asks her why they all aren’t eating in Uncle Gerald’s huge dining room. Jill lets out a loud cackle as though Tommy is making a joke then retorts that the family would only mess the place up. Next to Ted is Molly, Tommy’s wife, who is from old money and quite bored with the whole proceedings. She doesn’t like the Lynch family one bit and she lets her husband know that every chance she gets. Chris has to sit next to Molly, but fortunate enough to be across from Mrs. Johnson who is, all in all, a pleasant woman. Mrs. Johnson had made a wonderful casserole of beans and meat that is, surprisingly enough, still piping hot. Chris asked Mrs. Johnson how she keeps the food so hot and she tells Chris “you always got to keep the oven lit to make good food.” Cindy, who brought gourmet food in exquisite stoneware from her cafe, is relegated to the end of the table, where all the condiments and foil-wrapped plates of cookies and brownies are. All in all, it is a simple and insipid meal served on Styrofoam plates, but they are all hungry and eat voraciously as they carry on with their inane conversations.

Jill attentively circles the table making sure everyone is settling in okay. It is important that everyone gets seated and begin eating since Jill and Reggie have some unfinished business to take care of and need some time alone. Reggie is already making his way toward the porch. Jill finds an empty chair and sits and asks everyone to join her in saying grace. William has his mouth full of food and has to suffer through the blessing of the family, good health and prosperity and, of course, a special prayer for Uncle Gerald before he could continue chewing again. Jill recites the whole benediction sanctimoniously while her mind is vehemently damning William for showing up early that afternoon before he was told to and then unleashing his unruly children throughout the house, interfering with her plans. Jill finishes the blessing and the gathering gives a group amen and commends Jill on her special piousness as they go back to eating and drinking. Jill assists in passing the food around as she explains to whoever would listen that she needs to go and attend to Reggie’s left shoulder that had been bruised somehow earlier that day. She is finally able to excuse herself graciously and joins Reggie on the porch where the two slip into the house together.

It is an old box-style two-story farmhouse with antiquated furnishings and white-lace curtains that reek from Uncle Gerald’s cigar smoke. To the left of the entryway is the parlor with frosted glass shaded lamps on rosewood tables next to high-back upholstered chairs. To the right is the hallway to the sterile black-and-white kitchen that smelled of broccoli. To the side of the kitchen is solid door that swings out to the large octagonal dining room. The dining room is in the rear of the house and has splendid French doors, veiled in drapes, leading to the backyard where the abandoned pool rests.

Off the entryway are the stairs covered by a thick faded brocade runner that lead upstairs. Uncle Gerald was bedridden the last few months of his life and remained upstairs till the end. He was in a morbid and comatose state when Jill last visited him. She had stopped by to bring him a wood carved music box she had found at the consignment store. She sat in a chair next him and opened the box on her lap and let the chiming music fill the room as she tells Uncle Gerald that the whole family agrees with her that Cindy can not be the executrix. There were serious problems Jill said, which she was much too decent to go into, but Cindy was not to be trusted. There were financial problems at her café that made her being executrix questionable. Jill let it slip out that Cindy was probably a lesbian and that may be affecting her judgment and if the family could just get her back in the church all may be saved. Jill carried on her vile assault for quite awhile, unfazed by the wretched horror in the old man’s eyes.

“Let’s get on with this,” Jill snaps, which is her wont when she is apprehensive. They begin trudging up the steps. “The appraiser will be here in the morning and we need to get all this done now. The only thing left is the shoe box which should have been taken care of this afternoon if my dumb cousin hadn’t interrupted us,” Jill nervously speaks as they climb the stairs. “He should’ve stayed and viewed the body with the others. It’s disrespectful and outrageous to show up so early and then unleash his brats in the house unsupervised as he monopolized the phone all afternoon. He’s an ass! Sheila should poison that fool instead of just talk about it and do us all a favor. Are you sure everybody is out of the house?”

The upstairs is a maze of hallways and doors that lead to an assortment of bedrooms, toilets, and closets. At the end of the main hallway is a large, high-ceilinged bedroom with drawn shades and lit by an electrical chandelier. The room has a mildew odor and is meagerly furnished with just a bureau and mirror, with a porcelain washbowl resting on it, and a four-post bed covered by an oversized paisley bedspread of rust and gold. There is a narrow closet door with a glass doorknob. In the musty closet on the floor beneath a shelf is a shoebox. In the box are photos of Uncle Gerald and a lady friend. The photos are proper and decent enough depicting Uncle Gerald and his lady companion doing typical things like viewing fair exhibits or shopping at an open market. Next to the photos is a small, neatly wrapped gift box tied up by a faded, blue ribbon. Affixed to the top of the gift is a small envelope with a card in it. Jill slides the card out from the envelope and on the card, in Uncle Gerald’s handwriting, is written:

Dear Doris, if you would be mine forever how happy I would be. Love you, Giggy.

Jill drops the card back into the box and rotates the tiny gift in her fingers, then tears the wrapping off the box. The gift is the most exquisite solitaire diamond ring imaginable. It must be four carats or more with such perfect clarity and sparkle that it holds the two intruders spellbound and mesmerized by its radiance. The gem brings Jill to tears. “This is gorgeous,” she says. Reggie reckons it being worth at least ten, maybe twenty thousand dollars. “Should I keep it?” Jill asks. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” she concludes.

An intrusive crescendo of running footsteps ends with Reggie Jr. bursting into the bedroom, startling both he and his parents. His manner becomes inquisitive and impish and he asks his parents what they are doing.

“None of your business,” Jill irritably snaps back. Reggie quickly intervenes and tells Reggie Jr. to go along now and play with the other children. Reggie Jr. lurks curiously around his parents with prying eyes as Jill tries to conceal the gift box and the ring which she finally slides deep down in her pocket well out of sight. “We’re just going through some of Uncle Gerald’s papers to make sure everything is in order,” Jill tells Reggie Jr. as she waits for him to leave. “Then I have to tend to your father,” she adds.

Reggie Jr. gives them a smirk and shakes his head in disgust. He then quickly stoops down and checks underneath the bed which spooks Alex out from where he is hiding. Alex frantically scoots out from the other side of the bed, pops up like a jack-in-the-box, shrieks harshly as he prances about in that excited little jig of his and then darts out the door and runs down the hall. Reggie Jr. hollers at Alex that he is going to get him and stomps ghoulishly, like Frankenstein’s monster, out of the room after Alex.

Reggie suggests that they put things back and rejoin the family before they are missed. Jill stares at Reggie, flabbergasted and angered by Reggie’s obtuseness. “Don’t you know what just happened?” she chides him. “Are you that dense?” Jill stands and anxiously paces about the room. “That little dwarf just knows everything. I have to figure this out and quickly. Take the box and wrapping and get rid of it,” she instructs. “Don’t throw it in the trash; they’ll look in the trash. I’ll think of something to throw them off. You keep them busy. Just follow my lead and don’t screw it up.” Reggie tries to reassure Jill that Alex is a moron and no one would ever believe him or even his idiotic mother, but Jill is preoccupied with figuring out all the angles there are, after all, this is real, this is for keeps and those pretentious and conniving family members aren’t going to take the ring from her. She gestures that they should leave and they turn the light off and close the door behind them.

Once outside the house, Jill is greeted by the subdued, warm glow of dusk and the cheerful chirping of crickets. It’s a pleasant evening but the shadows at the dining table begin to form and emerge and grow threatening. Tommy notices Jill on the front porch and hollers out to her to turn the outdoor lights on as they’re all in the dark. Jill reaches back into the house and fumbles about the wall until she locates the switch that turns the porch lights on. The lights are bright enough to illuminate the front lawn area and everyone there. Jill and Reggie quickly regain an air of propriety and join the family at the dining table.

Jill squeezes in next to Mrs. Johnson, and Reggie has to sit between Cindy and Molly. After some small talk on the lovely evening and Jill reaffirming that Reggie’s shoulder needed attending to, Jill asks Mrs. Johnson to share some of Uncle Gerald’s past relationships. This happens just as Tommy asks Reggie about whether he had gotten an attorney yet for the estate, piquing Jill attention. As for Mrs. Johnson, she was a longtime and dear neighbor of Uncle Gerald but spent what seemed to be an insufferable amount of time sputtering as she tries to recall any special relationships, except, perhaps, Doris Mitchell, but that was a long time ago. Gerald had been sweet on her and had a hankering to marry her, but alas, Doris didn’t have the same feelings toward him. She finally left, went west, as Mrs. Johnson recalls, to pursue a fashion designing career, she believes. That broke poor Gerald’s heart and left him miserable for the longest time. Tommy is recommending to Reggie an attorney he had used during some legal mess he had gotten himself into and Jill finally needs to interrupt and tell Tommy that she has an attorney already picked out. Very highly recommended, she haughtily confirms. They seemed like a happy couple, Mrs. Johnson impatiently adds, a bit annoyed by Jill’s brief inattention to what she is saying. Jill apologizes though she is beside herself now as all the conversations are spinning around her and she needs to be attentive to each and every one and, to make things worse, there is that loud racket of crickets and children whooping and shouting and dogs barking somewhere off in the distance.

Stan tells folks at his end of the table how goofy Alex could be at times, but the folks at the center part of the table burst out in a boisterous uproar and Jill couldn’t hear the rest of Stan’s anecdote. Ted wants to know how much it is worth and has to ask Jill a second time before he could get her attention. He wants to know how much the estate is valued at and, more specifically, how much is his share. Jill is annoyed at such an inappropriate topic and puts him off by informing him that the appraiser will be there the next day and that they would all know everything in due time. Tommy intrudes and asks Jill about a silver teapot and tray he believes Uncle Gerald had; some type of heirloom or antique that must be worth something. Jill has to explain to Tommy that Uncle Gerald’s illness meant that he had to dispose of many items to help pay for his medicine. Mrs. Johnson takes exception to all that hogwash, saying that, as she recalls, Gerald didn’t have any financial problems and his medical bills were paid by Medicare. Jill condescendingly corrects Mrs. Johnson’s “misunderstanding” and adds that it was a shame Uncle Gerald couldn’t confide to everyone the secrets of his financial woes. Jill then sees Reggie corralled between Cindy and Molly, which concerns her immensely. She can imagine the sort of drilling those two are doing on Reggie and wants very much to intercede, but Chris begins fretting aloud to Jill about Alex’s whereabouts. Jill tells her curtly that Alex is just fine and to stop worrying. She then adds in a nicer tone what a wild imagination Alex has and that just the other day he had told her he had found some magic rocks that were left in a box and she had to tell him to keep them a secret or they would lose their magic. Alex is such a blessing, Jill concludes.

Jill retreats into herself for a moment and turns her attention to her plate of food. She has no appetite so she quietly pushes the various servings around with her plastic fork. In her solitude, she prays to the lord to deliver her from the hellhole she is in. She has suffered so long with all these cretins who surround her and she knows she can’t suffer the humiliation much longer. She thinks for a moment that maybe she should just tell everyone about the ring and be done with it. But it is such an exquisite gem and such thoughts are surely folly. Jill glances over at William, who is such a slob, and his dowdy doormat of a wife, Sheila. Jill is sick of Two-Timing Tommy and his lies and his snotty, soused wife and Stan’s buffoonery that probably got him crippled, and Chris’ sniveling over that pansy little boy of hers. She is sick of pompous Ted and snippy Cindy with her phony success and Reggie, yes Reggie, who is, after all, well, useless. Jill feels cursed by such a fate, by such a family. They all make her sick, sick at heart, sick of their conniving way and their ignorance. The ring will be her little secret and she will always have that over them.

“You all keep eating” Jill says out loud as she stands, “I’m going to tidy up a bit.” She leans down and picks up her plate and then, unexpectedly, stands tall and announces to everyone how wonderful it is to have the whole family here and how precious having a family is to her. The table is quiet for a moment and shares the sentiment spoken by Jill before they go back to their chatter and eating. Jill gathers up some empty paper plates, stacking them one atop the other.

Secrets can make people either very ingratiating or very overbearing. It all depends on how secure the secret holder is. For now, Jill is subservient, removing the plates from the table and taking them to the trash. She can’t decide whether to disclose it all and be done with it or to keep that precious ring. It is a dilemma we all have faced from time to time. It is a game, you see, a game of hide and seek and deep down Jill loves playing that game. But first she needs to track down Alex and find out what he knows and remind him about those magic rocks he found and tell him that she had found some too.

As Jill brings the tall stack of dishes toward the house when Baldwin chases Aaron right up in front on her and wrestles him to the ground, nearly dragging her down with them. It’s disconcerting for her, being forced to step aside, so she scolds the ruffians for their senseless roughhousing and calls them rodents as she struts toward the house. Rodents that should play their silly little games elsewhere, she tosses back at them.

Jill brings the stack of discarded paper plates over to the broom closet in the kitchen. She looks around then pulls the diamond ring out of her pocket with her free hand to sneak a peek at it. The brilliant facet of the gold mounted gem seems to brighten up the whole kitchen and Jill quickly puts it back in her pocket. She looks around again and then opens the broom closet door and is startled by a ghoulish aberration standing there in the back. It looks like a young Uncle Gerald, but it is only Duff cloaked in shadows. Jill tells Duff he’s a spook as she coldly drops the stack of trash into a large plastic bin and then she pulls the bin out into the kitchen. Duff shushes Jill and calls her a spook and not to tell anyone he is there as he closes the door on her. Jill drags the trash bin out of the kitchen. She stops at the foot of the stairs and looks at the fading light that funnels up to the concealed second floor. Those stairs are all behind her now. No more of that stench and morbidity she had to suffer during those visits. The things she had to put herself through to get what was rightfully hers. It will be champagne and perfume from now on. She congratulates herself for being such a caring niece during those tragic last days and is pleased with how things are working out for her as she drags the trash bin out the front door and plops it down the steps for the others to use. She pauses and takes a breath. The other adults are still lingering about the dining area, chatting and drinking. Jill braces herself for another go-around of intrigue and deception. She feels up to the challenge. She is going to keep the ring if she could pull it off. She joins her sisters, Chris and Cindy, who are chatting off from the others.

“Everything seems to be going quite nicely,” she tells her sisters in a self-congratulatory way.

Jill is the oldest of the three and feels she had the roughest time of the lot, having to cope with the idiotic incompetence of novice parents and then the bitter disappointment of not being an only child. But, with that aside, Jill was a born manipulator at heart. Her parents were easy marks for her subterfuges and so she grew up believing that everyone was a schemer and plotter and that she was just especially good at it. People are not to be trusted she figures, though, for a second there, she wants to tell her sisters about the ring, but decides not to scratch that itch so to speak.

Chris is the middle child and is gullible, credulous, and easily duped, especially by Jill. Chris has a mawkish, Pollyannaish bearing to her that makes her otherwise dull and bland life somewhat bearable. Alex, as mentioned earlier, is her world and her reason for living and being his mother fits her to a tee.

Cindy is the baby of the family and possesses an equanimity and astuteness that comes with being the youngest. She had witnessed early on Jill’s easy manipulation of Chris and quickly learned to disdain such behavior and avoid any such machinations. She takes a guarded stance toward Jill which now means she isn’t going to stoop or be dragged into squabbling over the estate. She figures any reasonable person would simply add up what the estate is worth and divide it equally but Jill will employ some convoluted process that probably will mess everything up. Cindy is confident that Jill would get her comeuppance someday when all is said and done.

Chris innocently mentions to her sisters that Cindy has such a wonderful way with figures and legal matters which Jill takes as an open betrayal and she begins to rebuke such a comment when Alex runs up to Chris and cringingly hugs her around her waist as though hiding from some hideous person. Chris lifts him up and holds him close to her. She instructs Alex to say hello to his aunts. He gives Jill a suspiciously bashful glance and mutters a greeting to them both. Before Jill can get another word in, Cindy reminds Alex that the two have a date the next day to visit the zoo, which is a delightful surprise to Alex. Chris lowers Alex down to the ground, kisses the top of his head, and he darts off to play.

“The zoo, huh?” Jill queries apprehensively. “Won’t that be wonderful!” she adds with a phony smile of approval. “I was just going to remind Alex about those wonderful magical rocks we found the other day,” Jill offers, but Cindy and Chris are discussing tomorrow’s plans and not listening. Jill senses she has missed an important opportunity to get that snippet in. This won’t happen again, she figures. Time was running out and there is urgency to the matter now with Cindy having the whole day with Alex to wheedle the truth out of him. She needs to get this matter under control before everybody finds out.

Jill leaves her sisters to mingle starting with poor Stan who was a healthy and virile man until he married into the family. For Stan, though, his disability isn’t that pitiful as it provides an easy out for him, nobody expects anything from him. This is probably why he’s so jovial all the time. Jill senses all this and doesn’t pity him at all, she resents him and his little secret though she has to pretend to pity him for the sake of appearance. Perhaps it would be nice if Reggie were crippled too, Jill thinks to herself, then she could go about her business unfettered and unmolested. Stan grabs Jill’s elbow as she rounds the table and says in all seriousness that she should come clean and tell everyone what sort of treasures she’s found hidden in Uncle Gerald’s old mansion. Jill is startled and gasps and isn’t quite sure what the decrepit fool is getting at. He explains boisterously for the whole table to hear, that he is certain Uncle Gerald had gold bullion and rare manuscripts and priceless heirlooms stashed away, or at least little boy magazines hidden somewhere in the attic. It’s the last item on Stan’s list, and, of course, the expression of relief on Jill’s face, that sets the whole table into hysterical laughter. Jill comprehends the humor and sees now that Stan is just joking. Or is he? Jill adds to the good humor and tells Stan, in her captious way, that if she does find any little boy magazines, she will definitely pass them on to him for his collection. The table roars again at Jill’s repartee that leaves Stan speechless.

Molly remarks, rather insincerely, to Jill that certainly Jill must have a lot to do before the appraiser comes tomorrow, at which Jill just smiles and pours more wine into Molly’s glass. Molly was once a lovely woman, though rather skittish. When Tommy came along she was just breaking off a relationship with a fellow she loved very much. Tommy had a soothing and disarming way about him and the two, much to Tommy’s surprise, hitched up and married. It had become a loveless marriage like all of the Lynches’ as love depends on trust and respect. Molly drinks quite a bit now, not because of Tommy’s carousing and caddish ways, which don’t bother her anymore, but because she harbors a terrible regret for not having had the courage back then to run off with that other cad who she did love.

Tommy turns his attention to Jill and mentions again that he had a friend who could help with the estate. A lawyer he knew, who was quite good and reasonable. Tommy speaks anxiously with downcast eyes as he glances at his watch a few times. Of all the Lynches, Tommy’s scowl is the most pronounced. When he scowls it looks like he has no teeth or chin. Everyone is aware of this deformity except Tommy who considers himself a dashingly handsome. Family gatherings make him nervous, but his lady friend was out of town and he has nowhere else to go. Everyone knows about his sleazy affair with his secretary and his other liaisons with the lonely ladies in town who craved any sort of attention even from him. Tommy is vain and verbose and with terribly low self-esteem.

“Perhaps I’ll call your secretary tomorrow and get the necessary information,” Jill snidely suggests which disheartens Tommy and he becomes sullen and wanders off.

A fly buzzes about Jill’s face and she repeatedly waves it away while pretending it doesn’t bother her. She notices William leering at her and she leans over and whispers in his ear that his bookie called and wants to see him tonight. William cringes at the insinuation. He is, after all, a fainthearted chap and certainly doesn’t gamble out of any regaling intestinal fortitude, but out of a dreadful panic of a drowning man desperately trying to find a rope or the bottom. Anything from the estate would help him greatly. Sheila does relish in William’s torment, though his whole predicament is a terrible embarrassment to her. She loathes her husband. She loathes his rancid stench, his evasive ways, and his sickening advances toward her. But Sheila is not without her wants. She is a homely and weak creature who needs to be married with a family for appearance sake, even if it is in a hellish pseudo-marriage with a galoot such as William.

Jill joins Reggie who is standing off from everyone else and is holding a plate loaded with food. Jill asks him if he got rid of the wrappings and Reggie replies that he had thrown everything away in the trash. Jill scolds Reggie under her breath for being an imbecile because everyone knows that people go through the trash and might find the stuff. Jill is horrified by the fact that she can not trust or respect or have confidence in the man she married. Reggie isn’t cagey or clever like most men; in fact, Jill finds him a dullard and a wimp, unable to do anything right. Reggie, for his part, no longer finds Jill all that attractive. He cringes each time he sees her small, pointed nose sink within those pudgy cheeks turning her face into a catcher’s mitt. Reggie feels that Jill isn’t aging gracefully at all and that’s why he spends so much time at Cindy’s Bar and Grill. Jill has always been highly critical of Reggie and carps at him constantly, which he permits from lack of confidence. Poor Jill had such high expectations when she was growing up and life has proven so very disappointing to her.

The intoxication at the table is clamorous with views and sentiments, boasts and follies, jeers and platitudes all neatly insulated in chuckles and laughter. Jill knows the family will settle in for awhile as they waste the evening away reminiscing over their failed lives. The Johnsons take their leave from the festivities, announcing that they will leave the evening to the younger folks. Mrs. Johnson stops in front of Jill and thanks her for such a special memorial dinner saying she is sure Uncle Gerald would be so pleased with such an evening. It is hard for Jill to hear Mrs. Johnson with the noisy hubbub at the table and the din of the crickets. She watches as Alex skirts the garden hedges as he chases the shrilling Kari, Celeste, and Missy to the back of the house. Jill grows impatient with the noisy chatter going on around her as she tries to concentrate on what Mrs. Johnson is saying. She finally thanks the Johnsons for coming though they depart somewhat annoyed with the whole thing.

Jill sees an opportunity and she has always been one to take opportunities. She tells everyone she needs to go to the “little girl’s” room and for everyone to just stay put and enjoy the evening. She turns from the table and bumps Ted, spilling some of his drink on him. Ted has been standing just off from the others and seems withdrawn and circumspect and the hand holding his drink shakes. Jill asks Ted in a cheery perfunctory way if he is enjoying himself. Ted grimly instructs Jill that he wants to be called Theodore and not Ted. Why does everyone insist on calling him Ted? It is bad enough he has to tolerate such indignation and so he would like, at least, to maintain some sort of dignity, some sort of respectability, and be called Theodore. Jill listens with a haggard and probing look on her face. Ted, or Theodore, is an only child and so quite use to getting his own way without begging or pleading. In fact, he isn’t much good at those contrivances people use to get what they want, so he has, for the longest time, felt deeply victimized and at a disadvantage. But just now, he is venturing to hatch his own contrivance, a diabolical scheme that would surely lift him up out of the depravity he finds himself in and give him the adoration he deserves. Out of nowhere, he asks Jill if she believes in hell. This startles Jill profoundly and strikes her as being odd and very disconcerting. He goes on to explain that what he meant is whether or not she believes that there is anything out there that could be so baneful and hideous that it would lead to eternal torment, to eternal damnation. Jill concludes that he’s had one too many scotches and is about to escape his macabre folly when Ted grabs her arm and insists she tells him how much the estate is worth. He needs to know the precise amount and how much his share is. It is very important for his calculations, his well-being. “Well, Teddy,” Jill snidely responds as she pries his hand off her arm, “you’re a sick and morbid man and you’ll just have to wait like all the rest,” and she quickly leaves him and quickens her steps toward the house.

Missy comes running up to greet her mother but trips and badly scrapes her knee, which sets her feverishly bawling. Jill is annoyed at the inconvenience, but scoops Missy up and quickly hands her over to Cindy who looms near by. Jill tells Missy she will get a moist cloth for her knee from the house and that Cindy will comfort her until she returns. Jill searches Cindy’s eyes for some understanding and compassion as she hands Missy over then she darts away and disappears into Uncle Gerald’s house.

Jill swiftly moves through the house and stops her hastened steps just in front of the French doors in the dark, gloomy dining room. She pulls the drapes open and stares at the black objects in the backyard. Behind her are the muffled voices of the family. But it doesn’t matter anymore what they are saying, there is nothing they can do. After all, they’ve lost their confidence and are mired now in their own petty lives, in their own foibles and the disapprovals that weigh them down. Jill is excited and pleased that everything is going as planned. And why not, she’s in control? So it isn’t fear that makes Jill’s heart palpitate so wildly just now or that made her take her leave so abruptly there at the table, but an immense euphoria of triumph that overwhelms her now, a triumph over those deviously greedy parasites. How clever she is, Jill thinks as she savors her success and supremacy. Who could accuse her of anything? Who dares to even question her?

She catches sight of a scrawny shadow with a large head skirting along the pool deck toward the pump shed. Maybe they know, she thinks as she watches, maybe they know of her larceny and is just waiting to catch her in the act, conspiring among them to bring her down and expose her. She can’t be exposed. And that little wretched devil there can ruin everything. She watches closely as the shadowy figure looses his footing and stumbles and disappears noiselessly into the pool. That should teach her for betraying me, Jill says to herself as she gasps and holds her breath for a moment and watches the glob frantically swish beneath that deadly plastic sheath that should have been disposed of a long time ago. This should teach them all! She thinks about keeping the ring now more than ever and how important it is to stick to her guns, after all, what can they do now? Someone once said she is a clever girl. And she is, but she has been dealt a terrible hand and the ring will make her happy. She will make up some story about where the ring came from later. Perhaps it would be a gift, perhaps from Reggie. None would be the wiser. But maybe there is somebody else out in the yard watching her from the shadows, hiding in the bushes, waiting to see what she does next. Her contemplation turns to panic and she opens the doors and steps outside. Maybe it is a trap, a trap to catch her in the act just when victory is at hand. Well, she isn’t going to have any part of that; she isn’t going to give them the satisfaction. She will stay in the shadows and not let herself be known. The incessant din of the crickets is deafening. Jill couldn’t think about her anguish anymore as it has become all too unbearable. She could feel the bulge from the ring in her pocket. She knows she couldn’t leave the shadows, she knows she couldn’t make herself known. After all, it’s her secret and she’s a clever girl and they’re helpless now to stop her. The dark grooves of her pudgy cheeks give her determined scowl a sinister look. She stands there and watches and waits as the tumultuous commotion in the pool melts away into an eerie stillness. Even the blaring racket of the crickets has died down to a dead silence. “Good, it’s quiet now,” Jill sighs in relief. “It’s settled once and for all,” she concludes as she steps back into that dark room and close the doors.