Looking unperturbed, Norris began handing around five sheaves of stapled documents. “This is a copy for everybody concerned,” he said. “The document you now have in your hands is the irrevocable trust drawn up by Robert Glenndenning Bayless. The trust provides for the division of stock in the legal entity called Carolina Carbonated Beverage Company, or Quixie.”

As Glenn Bayless’s widow and children bent their head over the document and began leafing furiously through the pages, Norris went on.

“As you all know, Glenn was proud of his family’s ownership of Quixie, and of Quixie’s contributions to this community. His greatest wish was that the company would always stay in Passcoe and that it would be run by his heirs. This was the reasoning behind the provision mandating that the company could not be sold for a period of five years following his death.”

Norris was speaking, but Annajane was the only one listening. The others’ eyes were glued to the thick document in their hands.

Norris took a deep breath. His gaze fell on Sallie’s elegantly coiffed head, bowed over the trust agreement.

“Glenn wanted the division of the trust kept confidential for that same period of time,” he said, “for reasons he did not divulge to me, but which I might guess at. It was always his intention to have the company run by his sons, Mason and Davis.”

Davis nodded but didn’t look up, still scanning the fine print.

“But,” Norris went on, “Since you, Sallie, were provided for quite generously through Glenn’s will, with ownership of real estate, stocks, cash, jewelry, and other real property, Glenn decided to divide ownership of Quixie amongst his children.”

Sallie’s head shot up, and her eyes widened. “What exactly does that mean?”

Norris coughed again. “Well, uh, the children inherit the company.”

“Not me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me I have no ownership in my family company? No vote in how it’s run?”

“Glenn felt,” Norris said, apologetically, “that since your commitment was to rearing your family and being active in the community, that you would not desire to be burdened at this stage in your life with ownership in the corporation.”

“That’s crazy!” Sallie cried. “Glenn depended on my advice. I was his partner, in everything!”

“Of course you were,” Norris said soothingly. “Nobody questions that.”

“Apparently he did!” Sallie cried, shoving the papers away from her. “My God! I can’t believe this.”

Davis reached over and rubbed his mother’s arm lovingly. “It’s all right, Mama. None of us will do anything about the company without your approval. You know that.”

“Of course,” Mason echoed, looking at Pokey, who said nothing.

“Well,” Norris said, “that, uh, leads us to the next matter. And I’m afraid this is going to be very awkward, but as trustee it’s my duty to follow through with Glenn’s wishes, to the letter.”

“Awkward?” Pokey looked amused. “More awkward than telling Mama she’s out of running the company?

“I’m afraid so,” Norris said, two bright spots of red blossoming high on his cheekbones. “So let’s just get to it. With the exception of the small, minority portion of stock Glenn left to you, Annajane, as his daughter-in-law, the rest of the stock is to be divided amongst the four living children of Robert Glendenning Bayless.”

“Four?” Davis said. “What the hell?”

It was as though a live wire had been poked directly into the skull of everyone sitting around the conference room table. Everyone, that is, but Annajane and Norris Thomas.

“Four,” Norris said firmly. “Mason Sheppard Bayless, Davis Woodrow Bayless, Pauline ‘Pokey’ Bayless Riggs, and, er, the minor child, Sophie Ann Bayless.”

Dead silence.

Finally, Pokey spoke up. “Uncle Norris, I don’t understand. You’re saying Daddy left stock in the company to Sophie? We didn’t even know Sophie existed until after Daddy died. And she’s Mason’s daughter. Daddy didn’t leave stock to any of the other grandchildren, did he?”

Davis was leafing furiously through the trust documents. “What kind of crazy shit is this? You’re saying Sophie, a five-year-old, for Christ’s sake, has a share in Quixie equal to mine? That can’t be.”

Norris Thomas looked pleadingly at Mason, who had been strangely quiet. “Mason, you’re going to have to help me out here.”

“Yeah,” Davis barked. “Help all of us out. Help us understand how you managed to have your illegitimate child inherit our mother’s share of the company. I wanna hear this, brother.”

Annajane felt something inside her stir. Mason was staring at his mother, and his eyes, riveted on hers, were filled with a sadness Annajane hadn’t seen in him since that day in the emergency room, when he’d learned of his father’s death. It was as though a fog had lifted, and she could suddenly see, with crystal logic, the meaning of everything that had happened over the past five years.

“Sophie’s not my daughter,” Mason said quietly. “Not biologically, anyway. She’s Dad’s.” He looked at Davis, and then at Pokey. “She’s our sister.” He reached across the table and took Annajane’s hand, squeezing it tightly. She squeezed it back and held on for dear life.

48

Every head in the room turned toward Sallie Bayless. “Mason, for God’s sake!” she cried, her face drained of blood.

Davis jumped from his chair, fists clenched. “What the hell kind of slimy stunt are you trying to pull here? Ain’t no way Sophie is Dad’s. And I’ll tell you what, we have all had it with your high-handed tactics. Blood or no, I am fixing to give you the ass kicking you have been begging for.”

The room was dead quiet.

Mason looked directly at his brother. “Bring it,” he said, unblinking.

Norris Thomas looked supremely uncomfortable. He coughed and cleared his throat and stared down at the stack of papers on the table.

Pokey was kneeling down beside her mother, ineffectively patting Sallie’s shoulder. “Mama, did you know anything about this? About Sophie?”

“No,” Sallie said, flinty-eyed. “And I refuse to believe it. Mason, I cannot believe you would stoop so low. To accuse your father … it’s…” She took a deep breath. “It’s an unspeakable, unforgivable lie, and I want you to take it back. This instant.”

“Um, Sallie, everybody?”

All heads swiveled toward Norris Thomas.

The elderly attorney tugged at the collar of his shirt. A fine film of perspiration beaded his forehead. “Mason is telling the truth. Sophie is the legal issue of Glenn Bayless. I understand that this is a shock to all of you, as it was a shock to me. Glenn was my oldest, most trusted friend, but I assure you, there is no doubt about the child’s paternity.”

“But, how?” Pokey asked, her voice catching.

Norris looked beseechingly in Mason’s direction. Annajane squeezed his hand and gave him an encouraging nod.

“Mama, I’m sorry,” he said, turning toward Sallie, his voice low. “I truly wish you wouldn’t have had to find out this way.”

“Mason didn’t know what was in the trust agreement,” Norris said. “I gave my word to Glenn that I would keep everything in confidence until the day I disclosed the details of the settlement.”

“Mason?” Pokey asked.

“Dad … met this woman at a car rental place. At the Jacksonville airport. Her name was Kristy. They had an, um, relationship. And she got pregnant. With Sophie.”

“Glenn was made aware of the pregnancy shortly before his death,” Norris volunteered. “We had already drawn up the trust mechanism some months earlier, after he’d experienced some cardiac issues.”

“Wait,” Pokey said. She glanced over at her mother. “Daddy had heart problems before?”

Sallie only shrugged, tight-lipped. “Of course not. Glenn was perfectly healthy, as far as I knew.”

Norris Thomas did not contradict the widow, but it was obvious that he was working from his own set of facts.