Date: Mon, 1 May 2023 18:32:14 -0700 From: Juxepe Albi Subject: An Affair to Remember - Chapter 3 - South Jersey Chapter 3 - South Jersey On November 5th, a call from Mr. Finley informed me that I had a newborn baby boy to pick up at the hospital in Cape May. When I arrived, the hospital gave me the forms to fill out for the birth certificate. The mother's name, Shelly Worthington, was already filled in; so, following Marlene's lead, I added Etienne Collard Falkessen as father and Stephen Lexford Falkessen as the baby's name. The custody paperwork named me as grandfather; so I now had two grandsons, both with blond hair and hazel eyes. Shortly after the first of the year, Lily's mother called me from her home in Joplin, Missouri. We had kept in touch through the years; although I no longer had direct contact with her, I had never met "Little Rodney." It seemed the boy had been in a serious accident and it was taking a lot of blood for his treatment. Rod, Lily's husband, was up for a stint overseas in his position with the navy; and he had been driving Rodney to a ball game as a last fling before he had to ship out, when they had an accident. Rod was not badly hurt, but Rodney had severe injuries. During his hospitalization it came to light that Rodney's blood, AB-negative, was totally inconsistent with Rod's or Lily's blood-types. It was, however, my blood type. This little fact, of course, was a slap in the face to the "banty rooster," which is what I had always called Rod. It was aggravated by the fact that, although they had been trying desperately to have another child, he had not been successful in impregnating Lily; and, after exhaustive testing, was found to be most definitely sterile. He threatened Lily with divorce, but was shipped out before he had time to follow through with it. Somehow, Rodney, who was now eleven years old, was convinced that his dad's anger was my fault; and, although he had heard Rod curse me over the years, we had never met. Lily bit the bullet and explained to Rodney the reason for his dad's anger, which only succeeded in making the boy even more angry with me. School was out for the summer; Lily and Rodney were now living with her parents in Joplin, and her mother was inviting me to visit them. It was impossible for me to get away from New York at the time. Two weeks later my realtor in New Orleans called the office to tell me that the Belgian Consulate in New Orleans wanted to lease my grandfather's house for an embassy. Having been told that I probably would not be interested in a lease, they had made a ridiculously high offer. I had no plans to move to New Orleans, but was not really interested in selling, or leasing the property. The problem of having to store away all the furniture and artifacts was staggering. My grandfather had left a very large estate; and I was the only beneficiary. There was a trust to manage and upkeep the house and grounds; and a minimal staff was in residence there. Grandpa John had also owned a similarly large house in the Audubon Park district, only a short distance away, which had been the home of his brother, my old bachelor granduncle. It was near Tulane; and I had thought that, if I ever wanted to live in New Orleans, I would prefer it to the house where Grandpa had lived. It had not really occurred to me that I had inherited that property as well. I was having second thoughts about leasing Grandpa's house. While I was having them, the Consulate bought another property. Grandpa had owned a large number of businesses, but didn't take an active part in any of which I was aware. It would be necessary to go back to New Orleans, at some point, and thoroughly investigate the estate and its holdings. I had simply assumed that there was nothing that needed my immediate attention. When the new school year was resuming, I received a call from Grandpa John's attorney asking if I intended to continue the various charitable endeavors that my grandfather had been maintaining. "To what charitable endeavors are you referring, Mr. Thibodeau?" I asked. "Dr. Falkessen was involved with several orphanages, and has been paying tuition for some half-dozen students to attend school, among many other things," he replied. "Orphanages? Where are these orphanages, Mr. Thibodeau?" I asked, somewhat shaken. "One is in Upstate New York, the closest one to you, another some distance farther, and another in West Virginia--they are all over the country, Dr. Falkessen, two are here in New Orleans, or nearby. There are businesses owned by your grandfather in all their locations that support the corresponding orphanages. I couldn't possibly tell you off the top of my head," he replied. "Well, I need a complete listing of all funds being distributed from my grandfather's estate. In the meantime, where are the two in my area?" "I will email you the addresses when we finish our call. It probably would be a good idea for you to come back to New Orleans when you are able to get away. Your grandfather spent every waking hour tending to these interests and never hired anyone to administer them," Thibodeau informed me. The email arrived before I could get to my computer. Looking it over, I was astonished at the long list of charitable interests that had been supported by Grandpa's money. There were bound to be many, many leaks in funding such an extensive list. I immediately telephoned Mr. Thibodeau. "Hello." "Mr. Thibodeau, exactly how many of these properties are actually owned by my grandfather's estate?" I asked carefully. "All of them," he replied immediately. "And who audits the dispersals," I probed. "Dr. Falkessen handled all of that personally," he replied. "I can't believe that he kept track of all these properties at his age," I questioned. "I have no idea; I was not consulted, Dr. Falkessen, I am sorry," he replied. I signed off with him and resolved to check into some of these "investments." I called the attorney in Wildwood. "Mr. Finley, I need some advice," I began. I then began explaining the situation, and my concerns over possible embezzlement that I suspected was taking place. "Dr. Falkessen, I certainly agree that it's about time for you to pay a visit to these establishments. If you want me to go with you, I could get away by Monday week. My son can run the office here for a few days. You should know that I am licensed to practice in several neighboring states; so that won't be a problem for me. "Mr. Finley, what would it take to have me certified for fostering?" I inquired. "Well, I have some connections, as it happens," he replied. "It is necessary to specify a state. Did you want it to be New York?" "I want it to be in every state where I own orphanages, Mr. Finley. I smell a rat in every one of these establishments." "I'll have to get back with you on that, Dr. Falkessen. Delaware, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York are known quantities, as is West Virginia; but the others need some investigation. I'll call you tonight, after I've had a chance to peruse the list for all the locations of the orphanages," he said. Looking at the list Thibodeau had sent me, I realized that I owned properties in all those states, and more. I wanted to consolidate some of these properties; as I didn't intend to spend all my time dealing with so many different administrators. There had to be time for my own kids. My next call was to Mr. Thibodeau in New Orleans. I explained to him about my fear of embezzlements and my desire to be certified for fostering. He assured me he could take care of that for Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama, all for a fee. He added that it might be possible to simply transfer some of my grandfather's authorizations to my name, for a fee, of course. "Of course," I agreed. Please consider supporting Nifty with your donation to https://donate.nifty.org/ Funds used to continue these free stories