“Then what does it affect?”
“The half of retirement funds and savings that go to the kids. Instead of being divided into thirds, it will now be divided into fourths.”
When they were younger, when the kids were younger, everything was left to the surviving spouse or, in the event Anna and Chad perished at the same time, the totality of the estate was to go to the kids. When the kids were all over twenty-one, they divided it differently. They left the bulk of their joint holdings to each other but divided half of their individual retirement funds, 401(k)s and such, among the kids. Anna did not have to worry about money. She worried about the identity of that anonymous recipient.
Like a jet engine was lodged firmly in her posterior, she began tearing through Chad’s personal things. They each maintained their own checking accounts and retirement accounts, but she had access to both and didn’t see anything suspicious. They had decided, years ago, to each name their estate attorney as the executor and administrator of the will. When they’d done that, the kids were still in school and didn’t want anything that complicated and time-consuming to fall on their shoulders, plus they’d been close friends with Larry Merton for many years now and trusted him implicitly.
She went through every pocket, every section of every wallet, the briefcase he couldn’t part with after many years, his sporting equipment and backpack, even his fold-up tent. The only thing she didn’t have access to was his work laptop, which went to a colleague who would take over his counseling cases. What information about his clients might be contained therein was sensitive and confidential.
Would he have left thousands of dollars to a client?
The will would be settled quickly; there would be no probate as everything was tied in a nice legal bow but for that one outstanding item—the unknown identity of one recipient. She was not usually left at a complete loss, but this time she certainly was. She would have to tell the kids, but she wasn’t sure how.
“You don’t have to tell them anything,” Larry said. “All that’s necessary is that you inform them that their father left them a portion of his estate in an irrevocable trust. I’ll draw up the papers, give you the amounts, and they can either get their own legal representation or I’ll help them transfer the money into their savings or checking or investment accounts. It’s generous but not big enough to trigger an inheritance tax. I’m also not obligated to tell them how much has been left to you nor am I obligated to tell them that there’s an irrevocable trust, nor in what amount, nor who the trustee is. As a courtesy and with Chad’s permission, I will tell you the trustee is a lawyer who has been commissioned to keep his client’s identity secret. And that’s all I can say.”
Anna had practiced law for twenty years before being called to the bench and even though her specialty was criminal defense and not estate law, she knew Larry was speaking the truth and giving her the facts. The gathering of the family for the reading of the will was not the law; it was often convenient and it made a great motion picture scene. In fact, Larry would invite Anna and the children to his office to sort out the details. It was not necessary for them to even know there was a fourth recipient but Chad had, in the event of his untimely death, agreed that Anna should know, if they were still married at the time.
“I’m surprised by the wording,” Anna said. “Right before leaving on his trip, I told him we should discuss separation when he got back. I haven’t mentioned that to the kids. And apparently he changed his will before I brought up separation.”
“He mentioned there was a bit of a kerfuffle between you,” Larry said.
“Kerfuffle?” she barked out, laughing.
“Look, you and Chad logged on...what? Thirty-five years? There had to be at least once every five years you thought you were down for the count, yet worked things out and put it back together. If Chad hadn’t died, this might have gone the same. I’m sorry, Anna. And yet, doesn’t this represent a typical marriage? A few ups and downs, a few close calls? How many perfect unions are you aware of?”
She gave a huff of laughter. “That’s your explanation? Or is that an excuse?”
“I’m just saying, of all the possibilities, this is hardly the worst case I’m aware of.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“I do not,” he said. “I told him how to put together an anonymous recipient.”
“Did you ask him?”
“Yes, and he said, ‘Then it wouldn’t be anonymous, would it?’ I was given the impression that it’s the choice of the heir. This doesn’t necessarily mean he has done something underhanded. It could be a charity. Or some otherwise needy individual.”
“Unless you consider the fact that he’s kept a secret from his wife, who also contributed to those retirement accounts this unknown person is receiving. And that it cuts into what my children receive. I expected better than this from you, Larry. If you can’t be more honest with me, you should at least have tried to talk him out of this course of action. What if I sue?”
“Please don’t do that, Anna. Remember, it’s his money to do with as he pleases. He was of sound mind when he made up this final will, which isn’t very different from the last will. Maybe he owed a debt and didn’t want the family to know. Maybe it is a house for homeless cats. Let it be. And for your information, I did try to talk him out of taking this action.”
“Oh?” she asked, lifting a brow. “Now why did you do that? Because today you’re championing his actions.”
“Because secrets fester,” Larry said. “And I told him that it’s been my experience that nothing good comes from secrets.”
“You got that right.”
It took roughly ten days to get the financials together and that was all. Chad had only been gone a few weeks and the late-April sun was warming the air and bringing out new blossoms, giving a feeling of renewal to the land. The accountant and the fiduciary who managed Anna and Chad’s retirement and investment funds were working with the estate attorney to calculate the sums so they could move the money around and the inheritances could be paid out. Anna had already signed her documents approving the transfer of funds and now there would be similar paperwork for her kids. They would have to identify the means by which they would receive their funds.
Jessie had established an account for her retirement, savings and investing. Mike said he didn’t have enough money to worry about such an account, and Bess said she was ready to do so and wondered if Anna’s financial planner would take her on. They learned they each had an equal percentage that was just over a couple hundred thousand and of course they were very grateful and thrilled, but certainly would rather have their father.
“We last discussed this a couple of years ago after Bess graduated and what your father and I were concerned about was how difficult it might be for you to get into a home of your own. Of course, what you choose to do with the money is entirely up to you, but your dad wanted to make sure you could buy a home if you wanted to. But we never considered the possibility of your father’s untimely death. We were thinking by your late thirties... And I’m well aware you all have issues other than houses.” Jess, for example, had some medical school debt, Mike had been living on a shoestring and had maxed a charge card and Bess...? Bess had started law school. The cost was staggering and she was managing on scholarships.
Anna had expected this meeting to turn into a circus but it was calm, quiet and somewhat melancholy. The only one who showed a threat of tears was Mike. He was so lost without his dad.
Larry explained what would happen. “Your father had a list of items he had special homes for, just a few. His car to his brother, his collection of antique books to his sister, his golf clubs and sporting gear to his son, his other book collection to his daughters and everything else to be dealt with by Anna.”
“If there’s something of your father’s you want, just let me know. Take your time and think it over. I packed up his clothing but I haven’t delivered it to a shelter yet. I just can’t imagine you wanting any of his clothes, but if there’s anything...” Anna said.
“Am I reading this right?” Jessie asked, holding up a page from the will. “You have sixty percent and we each have ten percent?”
“I guess that’s right.”
“There seems to be ten percent missing. Where is it?”