Over the next several months, Reva and Jules toured assisted-living facilities throughout Santa Barbara and nearby towns. The waiting lists were all over nine months.
As they drove back from one trip, Jules told Reva, “I saw a bunch in there that look like they’re ready to kick the bucket. That one wasn’t bad. Nice landscaping. A pond to sit next to. Maybe ducks? Would we have to sell the house for that one?” Jules asked.
Reva sighed. “After a couple of years, probably. We might have to rent the house while you’re there, unless I move here for good and sell the condo in Philly.”
Reva compelled Jules to update his will. Financial details had never been Jules’ favorite way to spend leisure time. Back in Philadelphia, he used the same law firm that his father had used to sort things out back in the 1980s, after Nina passed away. In fact, over the years, Jules met with Philip’s lawyer’s son—now a partner at the firm—whenever he needed legal help.
As Reva stopped the car for gas, Jules recalled moving Philip into the home. Jules’ brother Sam had done most of the work.
“How old was Philip when Sam moved him down to that place in Maryland?” Reva asked.
“Hmm. Nina passed in ’86. Must have been 1987 when we visited him together. Probably moved down there within a few months after Nina. So… he was 78.” Jules thought about his father’s funeral for a silent moment as Reva went in to pay for the gas and get a drink. His dad was 80. Heart attack in his sleep. Quiet and simple funeral, the way Philip had wanted. A plain pine box for both Nina and Philip. Didn’t want anything elaborate on the headstones. Just their names and dates. A month before Reva was about to begin senior year of high school.
Jules had never spent much money on objects. He’d saved most of it, with the exception of travel and Reva. When his marriage to Lisa ended, she had no interest in financial matters. She had some savings she’d inherited from her mother, and used it to buy a place in Barcelona. At first, Lisa had been out of contact, but then she began sending some money back directly to Reva. It was sporadic. Jules didn’t want to further entangle himself in any of Lisa’s madness, so he left it alone. In retrospect, he’d been glad she hadn’t tried to get him to pay her for her own sudden departure.
Jules inherited some money after Philip’s death and after the brothers sold the family house. Jules’ pension was decent. He knew he was lucky to be in this situation. Comfortable enough not to let anxiety around money eat away at his sanity. His anxieties had always existed around other topics.
Still, these assisted living facilities were populated with wealthy elderly people who’d lost their husbands or wives years earlier, or the rare few who’d never been married.
When Violet was killed in the accident, Jules sat down with her family. They all agreed that Jules would give them the same amount Violet had contributed to the down-payment on the house in Santa Barbara, plus the increase in home value over the years since. Violet’s sister Maya was the easiest to deal with. Jules wanted to make sure Maya and her kids inherited what they would’ve, had Violet written her own living will. Despite his lawyer’s advice, he’d added extra to the total estimate. Violet’s older brother was a military colonel. Thankfully, he let Maya deal with Jules. Jules felt the familiar ache as he thought of living alone in a new place.
The time of Violet’s death existed as a blank space with only a handful of images to locate in his memory. He envisioned the funeral only as a slide-show projection. Images slipping from one to the next. Everyone in black. Standing up to speak in front of the family and friends who’d gathered, “We all loved Violet. Her spirit drew you in. Her belief in possibilities. This shouldn’t have happened. She was too vibrant to go so soon…” Jules had paused several times to collect himself. “We were just setting up our life here…” and then Jules lost it, he broke down again. With Reva’s help, he retreated to his seat.
As Jules thought about his own will, he considered more than Reva, Neve and Becca. He thought about his nieces and nephews. Sam’s kids were all set. Morty’s two kids were doing okay, but not exactly comfortable. Neither had a home or a clear path to savings and retirement. Jules wanted them each to have some sort of cushion. Then he thought of Violet’s niece. She left rehab recently, but was a talented painter, who had hopes of attending art school. Next Jules thought of Ako and her daughter. Then Ruby and her tiny son. So many people needed help.
Jules considered asking Reva about selling the house. On the other hand, the charming three-bedroom tucked into the hillside cul-de-sac, it’d be a wonderful spot for Reva and her girls long after Jules was gone. Maybe renting it for now was the right move. All the damn details.
The Zoom call with the lawyer left Jules annoyed. He examined the spreadsheet Reva put together. The yearly estimates on the facilities. The mortgage on the house. The pension. Social security. If the sum total of the equation equaled a blueberry pie, he’d cut it into wedges and serve one to each of the people who needed a slice. Wouldn’t that be the ideal way to handle all of this?
Instead, all the numbers blurred into each other, floating up off the page, drifting up toward the slowly-rotating ceiling fan. Jules imagined the numbers cascading out from the center of the room, scattering along the walls, and then sliding down in a heap.