Chapter 5 - The Folder Marked Cognitive
Evelyn did not return to her house.
Her attorney arranged for her to stay temporarily in a furnished condominium owned by a family trust downtown.
Only the attorney, Evelyn’s assistant, and the sheriff’s investigator had the address.
Mara hated that.
Colin said nothing.
Two days later, Evelyn’s assistant, Patrice, brought several boxes from the home office under a deputy’s supervision.
Inside one box was a blue folder Evelyn had never seen.
COGNITIVE.
Her name was written across the tab.
Inside were copies of missed appointments, an unpaid electric bill from eleven months earlier, notes about two occasions when Evelyn had supposedly forgotten lunch meetings, and a list of medications.
Some pages were in Mara’s handwriting.
Evelyn read them twice.
One note said:
Mom asked same question three times at Thanksgiving.
Another:
Left stove burner on after breakfast. Safety concern.
Another:
Increasingly suspicious about finances.
Evelyn stared at the final sentence.
Patrice looked uncomfortable.
“Did you know she was keeping this?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
Patrice hesitated.
“Mara asked me for copies of your calendar when appointments changed.”
“When?”
“Starting last winter.”
Evelyn felt something inside her tighten.
The unpaid electric bill had not been forgotten.
She remembered it clearly.
Mara had switched the account to electronic billing while helping Evelyn consolidate household expenses after cataract surgery.
The first bill went to the wrong email address.
The lunch meeting?
One had been canceled by Mara’s office.
The other had moved buildings without anyone telling Evelyn.
As for the stove burner, Evelyn remembered that too.
Mara had been the last person cooking.
Evelyn had assumed her daughter simply forgot.
Now all three incidents lived in a folder portraying a sixty-eight-year-old woman who could no longer manage herself.
Her attorney examined the papers.
“Has Mara ever discussed guardianship or conservatorship with you?”
“No.”
“Power of attorney?”
“She already has limited financial authority for company matters.”
“How limited?”
Evelyn looked at him.
For the first time since the pit, she felt genuinely afraid again.
Not of dirt.
Of paperwork.
“Find out.”
That afternoon Colin called.
Evelyn almost ignored it.
Then she answered.
“Mom, there’s something you need to know about Mara.”
Evelyn closed the folder.
“What?”
“She asked me three months ago if I’d support her if you started ‘declining.’”
Evelyn’s grip tightened around the phone.
“What did you say?”
“I told her you were mean, not senile.”
Despite everything, Evelyn almost laughed.
Colin continued.
“She didn’t think it was funny.”
Then his voice became serious.
“She asked me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A statement saying I’d noticed memory problems.”
Evelyn looked at the blue folder.
“Did you?”
“No.”
May you like
That was the first piece of good news.
It also made Mara’s folder much harder to explain.
