Lawyer for the Cat Read Free Page A

its name?”
    â€œTrouble.”
    â€œRight. Anyway,” the judge continues, “I’ve seen a few of these trusts since the law was passed here in South Carolina. They’re usually pretty straightforward, but this one’s got trouble written all over it!” Again he laughs, pats his belly. “But mind you, I’m not asking you to do this pro bono. There’s plenty of money in it for the trust enforcer.”
    â€œThe what?”
    His chair squeaks as he swivels around to the bookcase behind him, pulls a volume out, opens the book to a page he’s marked. “Here. Section 62-7-408: Trust for care of animal. ‘A trust authorized by this section may be enforced by a person appointed in the terms of the trust or, if no person is so appointed, by a person appointed by the court.’ That’s where you come in. The settlor—that’s the deceased, Lila Mackay—didn’t appoint an enforcer, so I’m going to do that.” He slams the book shut. “You want my set of the Code? Can’t even give it away.”
    â€œNo, sir, but thank you.”
    â€œI know, all you young’uns do your research on the computer, right?”
    â€œI can’t really call myself a ‘young’un’ anymore, but yes, I do my research on the computer.”
    â€œNot the same, though,” he says, “as with the books.”
    â€œIt’s faster.”
    â€œMaybe, but you don’t feel the heft.”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œThese books, they’ve got the weight of history in them. Sometimes you need to feel it. Anyway, as I was saying, since Mrs. Mackay didn’t appoint a trust enforcer, I’m going to do that, considering the amount of money involved and the, uh, rather elaborate terms of the trust. Here, I’ve made a copy for you. Read on down to paragraph 5, and you’ll see what our problem is. Burney should have advised her against that, if you ask me.”
    â€œBurney?”
    â€œHer lawyer. Burney Haynes. Had his office out there on Edisto Island, near Lila. Honest fellow, but had no business handling an estate of this size. Never did understand the first rule of practicing law: Don’t mess around with what you don’t know. Dead now, so he can’t do any more harm. Take a look at paragraph 5 and you’ll see what I mean.”
    I read out loud: “‘I hereby appoint one of the following as caregiver for my cat, Beatrice, to be chosen by the Probate Judge at the time of my death or at such time as I may become unable to care for Beatrice myself: Gail Sims, my groundskeeper; Katherine Harleston, Assistant Librarian, Charleston County Library; Dr. Philip Freeman, my nephew; or any other suitable person.’”
    â€œNow,” he says, “does anything strike you as strange about all this?”
    â€œThis phrase ‘or any other suitable person.’ It’s almost like she wanted to make it complicated,” I say.
    The judge nods. “Like I said, it’s unusual. Keep reading.”
    â€œâ€˜I direct that the chosen caregiver shall reside with Beatrice, during Beatrice’s lifetime, at my home, Oak Bluff Plantation, on Edisto Island, South Carolina, and shall endeavor to provide Beatrice with the same lifestyle, routine, and emotional environment as she has become accustomed to in my care.’”
    â€œYou see what I mean,” says the judge. “What the hell is a cat’s ‘emotional environment’? You can bet old Burney didn’t come up with that poppycock—it’s got Lila written all over it—but he should have advised her against it.”
    â€œI guess ‘emotional environment’ means she wanted the caregiver to love the cat as much as she did.”
    â€œLook at Paragraph 8.… You think fifty thousand dollars a year is enough for loving a cat?”
    â€œWow. And what’s this about some notebooks?”
    â€œShe