One hundred fifty million dollars was nothing to sneeze at. No one in the vast, echoing library of Jolleyâs Folley would have dared. Except Pandora. She did so with more enthusiasm than delicacy into a tattered tissue. After blowing her nose, she sat back, wishing the antihistamine she had taken would live up to its promise of fast relief. She wished sheâd never caught the wretched cold in the first place. More, she wished she were anywhere else in the world.
Surrounding her were dozens of books sheâd read and hundreds more sheâd never given a thought to, though sheâd spent hours and hours in the library. The scent of the leather-bound volumes mixed with the lighter, homier scent of dust. Pandora preferred either to the strangling fragrance of lilies that filled three stocky vases.
In one corner of the room was a marble-and-ivory chess set, where sheâd lost a great many highly disputed matches. Uncle Jolley, bless his round, innocent face and pudgy fingers, had been a compulsive and skilled cheat. Pandora had never taken a loss in stride. Maybe thatâs why heâd so loved to beat her, by fair means or foul.
Through the three arching windows the light shone dull and a little gloomy. It suited her mood and, she thought, the proceedings. Uncle Jolley had loved to set scenes.
When she lovedâand she felt this emotion for a select few whoâd touched her lifeâshe put everything she had into it. Sheâd been born with boundless energy. Sheâd developed iron-jawed stubbornness. Sheâd loved Uncle Jolley in her uninhibited, expansive fashion, acknowledging then accepting all of his oddites. He might have been ninety-three, but heâd never been dull or fussy.
A month before his death, theyâd gone fishingâpoaching actuallyâin the lake that was owned and stocked by his neighbor. When theyâd caught more than they could eat, theyâd sent a half-dozen trout back to the owner, cleaned and chilled.
She was going to miss Uncle Jolley with his round cherubâs face, high, melodious voice and wicked humors. From his ten-foot, extravagantly framed portrait, he looked down at her with the same little smirk heâd worn whether heâd been making a million-dollar merger or handing an unsuspecting vice-president a drink in a dribble glass. She missed him already. No one else in her far-flung, contrasting family understood and accepted her with the same ease. It had been one more reason sheâd adored him.
Miserable with grief, aggravated by a head cold, Pandora listened to Edmund Fitzhugh drone on, and on, with the preliminary technicalities of Uncle Jolleyâs will. Maximillian Jolley McVie had never been one for brevity. Heâd always said if you were going to do something, do it until the steam ran out. His last will and testament bore his style.
Not bothering to hide her disinterest in the proceedings, Pandora took a comprehensive survey of the other occupants of the library.
To have called them mourners would have been just the sort of bad joke Jolley would have appreciated.
There was Jolleyâs only surviving son, Uncle Carlson, and his wife. What was her name? LonaâMona? Did it matter? Pandora saw them sitting stiff backed and alert in matching shades of black. They made her think of crows on a telephone wire just waiting for something to fall at their feet.
Cousin Gingerâsweet and pretty and harmless, if rather vacuous. Her hair was Jean Harlow blond this month. Good old Cousin Biff was there in his black Brooks Brothers suit. He sat back, one leg crossed over the other as if he were watching a polo match. Pandora was certain he wasnât missing a word. His wifeâwas it Laurie?âhad a prim, respectful look on her face. From experience, Pandora knew she wouldnât utter a word unless it were to echo Biff. Uncle Jolley had called her a silly, boring fool. Hating to be cynical, Pandora had to agree.
There was Uncle Monroe looking plump and successful and smoking a big cigar despite the fact that his sister, Patience, waved a little white handkerchief in front of her nose. Probably because of it, Pandora corrected. Uncle Monroe liked nothing better than to make his ineffectual sister uncomfortable.