Page 23 of Phoenix Fire

“That's been taken care of, Jason. Sheila did not want it to happen but there was a way to get her money returned. What really concerns Sheila, bless her, is what concerns you and me. Where will all of this take Carlton? Isn't unregulated gambling a crime in Arizona? Even, private gambling games in the home?”

“Yes, it is. How did you get Sheila’s money back to her without her knowing about it?” His immediate reaction to his own question was that he should not have asked it.

Myrena smiled and waved her hand. “That's not important, Jay-boy. A simple matter really with her bank … What do we do about your brother? That's the question.”

Jason pursed his lips, sighed, got up from his chair and walked slowly to the window. The sunset's dazzling show was now tinged with a band of darkness on the horizon. An unbidden memory from childhood came to him, another time, of another Carlton, of another Jason.

He finally spoke. “Perhaps we should do nothing, Grandma Myrena. Carlton is a grown man.” Jason turned back from the window and faced her again. “I've seen all my life how you, how Grandpa John, worked so hard to understand Carlton, to placate him, to give him time and again new chances when he had done something wrong. I was young myself, Grandma, and I loved him, too, but I knew what was going on. It bothered me. I worked hard at being close to Carlton, and it was a tough job. Then, as now, I did not feel like he deserved the attention he was getting. He only abused it. Oh, I'm not talking from a position of jealousy or envy. My inner security and knowledge of your love was never in question. It just hurt me to see how he treated you and Grandpa John. He was a selfish jerk then. He's a selfish jerk now. He has to take responsibility for his actions.” Jason paused, looked adoringly at Myrena, and went back to his chair.

“Look, Grandma,” he continued, softly, “I've tried in my own way to get closer to Carlton. Just today, I called him, with that urge to get closer. He just made a game of it, mocking and sneering. I can try to talk to him again, let him know that we know of his gambling, try to get him to see the dangers ahead, but I honestly don't think it will do a particle of good. He's not an easy man to reach, and, actually, I don't believe he even listens to me. For you, I will try again, if that is your wish.”

Myrena stared out the window for some time. The early evening light was now casting shadows upon her face. She looked stoic and statuesque, her chiseled features a mirror of haunting memories. Finally, she slowly turned again to face him.

“Yes, please try, Jay-boy. You must at least keep trying. I, too, will talk to him. We both shall try very hard to reach him. Perhaps there might be a miracle out there for us …

“Now, I would like to discuss something else with you. It is never a happy subject to bring up and discuss and yet I must. I'm meeting tomorrow with Paul Winfield. He is coming out to update and revise my trust and will documents. It is important for me to let you know what I'm doing.”

Jason thought of interrupting but did not. Instead, he lowered his eyes to stare blankly at the floor.

“I've thought on this quite a long time, Jay-boy, and the decisions I've reached are not open to change. Discussion, yes. Change, no. You are to receive the bulk of my assets with two exceptions. One, Carlton is to get this house and its furnishings. Second, he is to get the contents of the strongbox which is located in the right upper shelf corner of the master bedroom closet. The contents are nothing really significant and have no esoteric meaning. There are a number of old bonds of some value and a bundle of written notes relating to Carlton, notes of frustration and anxiety I'm afraid about my observations and concerns for his emotions. Oh, there are even notes of hope and of my unfaltering love for him.

“You see, Jason, I could just not leave him anything. He is my grandson, and I love him dearly. The house and the bonds are of no little value to be sure. The personal notes will convey to him, I hope and believe, my desperate wishes for his happiness. The notes may mean little to him, but, at least, I will know that I've tried to reach him. He will no doubt be disappointed in my last will and testament and his relatively small endowments. While I could not bring myself to totally exclude him from the estate, neither did I wish to reward him substantially for what can only be considered a selfish existence. After all, he has received during my lifetime some rather large stipends for what I thought at the times were honorable investments.

“There is no anger attached to my final wishes, but there is sadness and disappointment. My notes to Carlton will hopefully suffice to give him the rationale for the will's disbursements. Well, my goodness, it seems I'm beginning to repeat myself.”

Myrena paused, looked at Jason's downcast face, and she felt a surge of love and the desire to comfort him. But, then, simultaneous to the desire to comfort, there came a surge of pain. She turned from him and an involuntary gasp escaped her.

Jason heard the near inaudible gasp and lifted his head to look at her. Then he stood and rushed to her side.

“Grandma! Are you in pain?” He knelt on the carpet, touched her arm gently. He saw the pain etched in her eyes as she turned to face him.

She managed a weak smile. “Oh, Jay-boy, I'm fine. I've just talked so damned much on a dreadfully distressing, uncomfortable subject and I've given myself a frightful headache. That's all. I'll just have Wardley bring me an aspirin.” She pushed a button on a side table console.

Jason looked at her beseechingly, his eyes watery and soulful. “Can't I do something, Grandma? Please let me do something.” Anxiety spread through him, threatening to close off his breathing. She was protecting him by referring to her cancer as a headache.

Myrena looked into his eyes and saw the pain in his soul. She patted his hand. “No, no, Jay-boy. Wardley knows of my headaches. He will know what to do. Please, sit down and don't looked so stressed.

“We will have dinner shortly. Pot roast, I believe. That was always one of your favorite meals.”

Wardley appeared, left, returned with what Jason knew must be Grandma Myrena's cancer medication for pain. Jason could see the concern on Wardley's face, but he could say nothing. He would say nothing. An even deeper agony now possessed him as he watched his Grandma's face slowly and subtly return to some normalcy as the medicine's quick palliative action gave relief.

Myrena asked about dinner and was told it would be served within minutes.

“There is more that I wanted to speak about, Jay-boy, your lovely new friend, Jenny, to whom I was so immediately drawn, and, well, some other things. But they can wait. Please don't try to make too much of what's been said. You needed to be aware of Carlton's gambling problem, and I wanted to share with you my estate plans. Should have done that long before now. We will talk again soon. Now, let's get us some pot roast.” She smiled broadly and stood, offering her arm to Jason. “Thank you, dear son, for allowing me to ramble.”

Myrena had not caught her slip of tongue. Her use of 'son' had not gone unnoticed by Jason, and he gently hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. In so many ways and for so many years she was his mother and he her son.

So many thoughts came as he slowly walked Myrena to the dining room.

Chapter Fifteen

Jenny Mason was concerned, a bit confused. Perhaps the confusion was laced with some anger.

Dressed in faded cutoff jeans and yellow halter, her hair wrapped with a flaming red bandana, Jenny veritably attacked her chores of washing, drying clothes, and cleaning her apartment. Haydn's Symphony 101 was playing on her stereo system.

Why had Carlton intruded himself into her lunch and life? It was so awkward and unsettling. His words were totally brazen, out of the blue, and she actually had considered him a bit daft. How could he have possibly conjured up in his mind that she was interested in him? He certainly seemed to think that she was. He must. Otherwise, why would he come on to her so strongly?

She thought back to the lovely evening spent with Jason and Grandma Myrena, trying to isolate some moment or moments when she had interfaced with Carlton. She could remember no incident, no time, when she could have been misinterpreted as flirting with him or, to use the vernacular, 'coming on to him.'

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