The Gate House   ::   Demille Nelson

I recalled that Anthony and Carolyn had met once, at Alhambra, and though I was not present, I was fairly sure that Carolyn had not been taken with the dark, handsome thug next door; in that respect, she had better judgment than her mother.

Anyway, Carolyn Sutter, Brooklyn ADA, might possibly have more information than I had, and I was sure she’d share that with her mother and father if appropriate.

So, having taken care of Bellarosa news and business, I went online and found some good Web sites for Paris, one of which had the name of two restaurants where Americans were welcome.

At about 10:00, Susan opened the door and entered. She looked pale and shaken, but not weepy. I sat her on the couch, then I sat next to her.

She took a deep breath, then said, “Well, their position is clear. If we marry, then my allowance is cut off, and I am disinherited, and disowned. Even if we don’t marry, they’ll do the same thing unless you leave the country.”

I took her hand and said, “We knew that.”

“Yes… but…” She took another breath and continued, “My father also said that he will disinherit the children… and stop the disbursements from their trust fund… and hold up the disbursement of the principal until they reach the age of fifty.” She looked at me and asked, “Can he do that?”

I replied, “As I said, he can disinherit them at any time. As for the trust fund, I would need to see the trust documents. But I did see them once, and I know that Peter is the trustee, and your father, through Peter, can stop the distributions and hold the corpus and appreciation – the whole amount – until Edward and Carolyn reach the age of fifty.”

She did some math and said, “That’s almost twenty-five years from now.”

I tried to show her the bright side of that and said, “Without the distributions, the fund should quadruple by then.” Unless the fund administrators made some really bad investment choices.

She said, “I’m worried about now . Not twenty-five years from now.”

“I know.” I tried to get a sense of what she was thinking, and I got a hint when she withdrew her hand from mine.

So this was the moment that I knew would come, and I’d already given her my solution to the problem, which she’d rejected when it was just me laying out the problem and the resolution. But now that she’d gotten the final word from dear old Dad – and I was sure he was not bluffing – it had hit her like a judge handing down a life sentence.

Out of curiosity, I asked, “How about your mother?”

She shook her head, then replied, “She said that all I had to do was tell you to leave and everything would be all right again.”

That wasn’t true, but I didn’t respond.