Dawn Simpson is on the line for you.

Who?

Dawn Simpson. She says you did estate planning work for her friend, Bob Kirk.

Her friend?

That’s what she said.

OK. I picked up the phone. Hello. This is Tim.

Hi, Tim. Thanks for taking my call. I’m Dawn Simpson. In 2014 you did estate planning work for my friend, Bob Kirk.

OK.

Bob wants to make some changes to his estate plan, and I was hoping to get on your calendar as soon as possible.

I scrolled down my client list as she spoke. Bob and Irene were both my clients, I said.

Irene is deceased. She died a couple of years ago.

Where is Bob?

He’s sleeping. He doesn’t do well on the telephone. Can’t hear. And I told him that I would call you and make the appointment.

What kind of changes does he have in mind? Do you know?

He needs a new power of attorney. And a couple of changes to his Will.

Well, this isn’t something that you can do for him. Bob needs to tell me what he wants and he has to be able to read through what I draft for him and when we meet to sign new documents, he needs to convince me that he . . .

Oh, I know that. He will. I just told him that I’d help him. He’s been so weak since he got out of the hospital a couple of weeks ago. He’s been sleeping so much.

Why was he in the hospital?

I got home and he was flat on his back in the kitchen, looking up at the ceiling. He said he had gotten dizzy and fallen and he couldn’t get up.

What did they say at the hospital?

Heart stuff. His heart is out of rhythm. Valves are leaking or something. He starts filling up with water. Pissing all of the time.

Is he able to come to my office.

It would be better if you came here

OK. I can do that in a week. How about Tuesday at 2:00?

That’s not going to work. I’m working. I don’t work Fridays. Can you do it Friday at 2:00?

You don’t need to be there. In fact, I’m going to need to meet with him with no one else in the room.

Of course. I just want to be there in case he doesn’t hear the door or he dozes off or something. Seriously, he’s not doing great.

OK, Dawn. I’ll come next Friday at 2. Is he still on SE Lambert? 

Yes. That’s where we are. I’ll let him know. How much will it be?

I’ll talk to him about that.

Well I’d like to know. I’m calling some other lawyers just to make sure he’s not paying too much.

My hourly rate is $275.00. That’s what I’ll be charging him. 

OK. I’ll let him know. See you next Friday.

A couple of days later, I dug Bob and Irene’s file out of storage. I reviewed their Wills and their powers of attorney and their Advance Directive. The Wills were basic, everything to each other, then to the kids. All of the documents put the son, Josh, in charge after the parents were gone (in the Wills), and if the parents became incapacitated (in the other documents). The daughter, Holly, was Josh’s back-up. I remembered them a little. Irene was a talker. She seemed to take care of everything, the bills, the accounts, the kids. I remembered laughing about this with them, and Bob admitting I do what I’m told, or something like that. 

Back in 2014, according to the file, they owned their house, free and clear. They both had pensions. Irene from being a teacher and Bob from working for the Federal government. I couldn’t remember what he did and didn’t note it in the file. They had been good about funding their retirement plans, and even had a brokerage account worth a couple of hundred thousand.   

I pulled up in front of the house. The parking strip was choked with dandelions and brown grass, and grass in the front yard looked the same. The latch on the gate to get into the front yard was broken. An old Toyota Corolla sat in the driveway. I could see the ceiling upholstery drooping down over the rear headrests. I pushed open the gate and walked the three steps up to the front door. Before I could knock, a woman pulled open the door. 

Hi, Tim. Come on in. She was holding a little dog.

I stepped in the door and immediately smelled urine and cigarette smoke. The sound of the television in another room was loud. Are you Dawn?

I am, she said. Bob’s in the family room. I was just hoping to talk to you for a second before you go in.

I looked at her and waited.

Bob’s doing ok this morning but he’s gotten bad with his memory. He’ll tell me something and then he’ll tell me again five minutes later. And then again. I swear sometimes I just have to leave the room. It’s exhausting.

Maybe he shouldn’t be changing his estate plan, or signing any legal documents at all.

No, no. That’s what I wanted to tell you. That’s the one thing he always remembers. He doesn’t want Josh to have his power of attorney any more. He never visits and he barely calls. I’m the one caring for Bob. Holly’s just like Josh. Never around. It’s like they’ve abandoned him. It’s really hurt Bob. He wants them out of the Will and he wants that power of attorney back.

He’s in there? I nodded toward the doorway to the next room, where the sound of the television came from.

Yes. Dawn replied, and she walked toward the next room and I followed behind.

Bob? She yelled at him.

He was in a recliner pushed back and his eyes were closed. A cat jumped off of his stomach and ran out of the room. I could see his swollen feet and ankles.

Bob? She yelled at him again as she pointed the remote at the television and turned it off.

The sudden quiet startled Bob and me. His eyes opened and he looked around the room, spying Dawn and then me. He gave no indication that he knew who I was.

Bob? Tim’s here. The lawyer?

Bob blinked a couple of times and then he looked at me and remembered. Counselor, he said, smiling now. Good to see you.

I approached the chair. Good to see you, too, Bob. It’s been a while.

Indeed, he said. What brings you?

Dawn said you wanted to see me.

Bob looked at Dawn. She did?

Remember you asked me to call him so that you could change your estate plan?

Bob looked at Dawn. Dawn stared at him. You don’t remember talking to me about wanting to change your Will?

He kept looking at her. Yes. Of course. Thank you for coming to see me.

I looked at Dawn. Dawn, can you leave the room so that we can talk alone?

Sure. Sure. She scratched under the chin of the little dog that she continued to hold. She turned around and walked out of the room. 

I spied a chair against the wall next to the television. I took the saucer and cup of cold coffee from the chair and moved it to a table. The butt of a cigarette was in the saucer. I went back to the chair and put it to the left of Bob’s recliner, close to him. I sat.

I was sorry to hear about Irene, I said.

His eyes moved from my face to the blank television screen and he was quiet. She was my sweetie, he said. 

You must miss her.

He kept looking at the screen. I was supposed to go first but she’s gone.

When did you meet Dawn?

He looked at me with a confused look on my face. 

Dawn, I repeated, pointing my thumb toward the next room.

His confusion cleared. I’m the marrying kind, he said. I don’t know a damn thing about a damn thing.

Does Dawn cook for you?

Sure, he said.

Does she help you get your bills paid?

He nodded.

Get you to the doctor when you need it? Help you with your medications?

Oh, I don’t have too many of them, he said. But she helps me remember.

I looked at the table where I had put the coffee cup and saucer. There were at least ten pill bottles on the table.

How often do you see Josh and Holly?
Josh is in Seattle with the kids and Mary. Holly is just a couple of blocks away. I don’t remember the last time I saw them.

Do you think it was recent?

He looked at me and turned his palms up and said I don’t know.

They didn’t even see him when he was in the hospital. I looked up and Dawn was leaning against the doorway that separated two rooms, the dog still in her hands.

Dawn, can you leave, please?

Sure, but you should know how upset he was. It was all I could do to settle him down. She left the doorway and walked into the other room. I could hear her opening and closing a refrigerator, and then sitting in a chair. 

I turned and looked at Bob again. 

He looked at me and smiled.

Do you trust Josh? I asked him.

It felt like when he was growing up, he was in trouble every single day. Every day Irene was talking to a principal or a teacher or even a police officer once, and I’d come home and she’d tell me to do something about it and I’d talk to him and he’d be in trouble again the next day.

How is he doing in Seattle?

Bob’s face brightened. He’s very successful. And Mary is an angel.

And kids.

Three sons. Here they are. He reached for the table on the other side of the recliner and grabbed a picture and extended to me.

I pushed crumbs off of the picture and looked at the three smiling boys and the message at the bottom: We love you Boppa!

They call you Boppa?

Yes they do, he said.

Do you want Josh out of your estate plan?

He looked at me and didn’t say anything.

I thought he hadn’t heard me. Do you want Josh and Holly out of your estate plan?

His eyes were watery and he still didn’t say anything.

Tell him what you’ve been telling me, Dawn said from the other room.

Bob and I looked at each other. 

She’ll leave if I don’t, he said quietly.

I looked at him.

She’s looking at nursing homes. She says that’s where I’ll go.

And that scares you? I asked him.

Have you ever been alone? He asked me.

I nodded.

He looked at the blank screen again and I could see that he was going to cry.

I stood up and put my hand on his shoulder. I’m glad I saw you and I’m not going to do this.

What? Dawn said, back in the doorway.

I’m not doing it. I said. 

Great. That’s great. Don’t worry, Bob. We’ll find someone to help you. 

I looked at Bob and squeezed his shoulder and walked toward Dawn and she moved back from the doorway and I walked past her and out the door