Mr. Whitlock

1 - An Unlikely Inheritance

Charlotte Marlowe was a strange woman, and no one was close enough to her to understand why. She spent her days staring at the plain white walls of her hospital room, her mind a mystery to anyone who visited. Perhaps her head was full of thoughts and memories, but it was just as likely that it was empty.

When Charlotte was first admitted to the hospital at the young age of 65, shortly after her husband William R. Marlowe died, her youngest daughter Evelyn came often to brighten her spirits. Evelyn was a sweet woman, newly married with young kids. She and her family would leave flowers, sing songs, tell stories, but it was all in vain. Charlotte was shut off, and only spoke occasionally to make some ill comment, such as, "Your time is wasted here, and so is mine. I have more important things to do than this." But everyone knew that she had nothing better to do than sit in silence.

As Evelyn's life grew busier, the visits trickled down until nobody came anymore. Charlotte showed no sign of minding, or even noticing the absence. Nevertheless, her oldest daughter Anne felt obligated to move closer so she could see her more.

Anne had two children at the time of her big move, nine year old Eve and six year old Marie, and was recently divorced. And despite her rocky relationship with her mother, Anne knew it was the best thing to do for her family.

Before moving, Anne avoided talking about Charlotte, only sometimes explaining to her daughters that "Your grandmother is better off without our help, I promise." Because Anne was not at all close to Charlotte, she hardly came to visit and rarely brought Eve or Marie.

Marie had a few faint memories of going to see her grandmother as a child, and would never had considered them close. But as a teenager, the job of visiting her grandmother was handed off to her. She would go every day after school for about thirty minutes, practically talking to herself.

At first she hated the chore, for it caused her to miss out on a lot of the seemingly more important things in her life and Charlotte never showed appreciation of the sacrifice. But over time, she saw her grandmother opening up, even a little bit, which was far more rewarding than any word of thanks.

The entire family started to notice a change in Charlotte as well, for the far off look in her eyes seemed to be slowly fading. She spoke a bit more, and even smiled from time to time. Her heart was opening day by day, for it seemed that Marie was the only person who had ever been willing to truly care for this strange old woman.

But when Marie turned eighteen and left home, she no longer made the time to visit her grandmother. Slowly, all of the progress she had made with Charlotte withered into nothing, as the old woman shut people out even worse than before.

***

Marie Westbrook never thought she would move back home. She was content with her life far away from her troubled family. Being twenty-five with no husband or children, unlike her older sister, the disapproval of her mother was far too much. Not to mention that she had a stable career as a journalist, a comfortable two bedroom home, and a loyal companion: Her two year old calico cat named Tamsin.

But one warm Sunday afternoon, while she was curled on her couch reading her favorite book, she heard a knock. Marie jumped to her feet, hurrying to open the door. "Who could it be, Tammy?" She whispered to her cat as she began to turn the brass door knob.

To her utter surprise, there stood Eve with her daughter Jane at her hip and her son Leo standing beside her. Marie was so puzzled that she couldn't even piece together a sentence.

"I'm so sorry we didn't tell you we were coming. The trip was in such short notice, but there is no time to talk now. Come get in the car, and I'll tell you on the way home." Eve said with a smile.