Chapter 14: A Promise to Keep

The family returned from Darry's funeral around noon -- Sodapop, Cinnamon and Ponyboy were all emotionally and physically exhausted. Soda had been actually swaying on his feet at the cemetery. Twenty minutes after coming into the house, they were all asleep, Pony and Soda crashing on the same bed, as they had slept when they were boys.

It was almost three o'clock when Cinnamon woke to the smell of coffee. She wandered into the kitchen to find her brothers sitting at the table. "Where is everyone?" she yawned, pouring herself a cup.

"Michelle and Danny went off somewhere with Shelly's parents," Pony answered. "And Clinton and his parents took Johnny and Sarah to the movies. Laura's around somewhere."

"How long have y'all been awake?" she asked. "You're gonna need forever to catch up, Pony."

Pony smiled. He'd slept surprisingly well, and even only two hours later, felt more refreshed than he had in two weeks. "Soda snores," he said, poking his brother. "And he takes over the whole bed. No wonder he's never been married, who'd put up with that?"

"Me? I don't know how your wife gets any sleep at all," Soda returned indignantly.

Laura peeked into the kitchen, saw the three of them sitting there, and disappeared into Darry's room. She came back with a metal box and a manila envelope and she set the box in the center of the table. She cleared her throat.

"I told Uncle Darry I'd give this to you," she said. She tapped the metal box. "He told me there were papers in here that y'all would need, insurance policies and bankbooks and stuff. And his will is on top."

"Darry had a will?" Ponyboy said, surprised.

"He always had one, he said. Even when you and Dad and Aunt Cinnamon were kids – he said he wanted to be sure everything was all spelled out if anything happened to him."

Ponyboy pulled it out of the box. There was a cover sheet on top, with several dates, indicating the many times the will had been changed. "God, he was fickle," Pony said.

Cinnamon leaned over his shoulder. "No, no, look at them." She pointed. "That's Laura's birthday. And my wedding date. Johnny's birthday. Your wedding. Sarah's birthday. Danny's birthday. He changed it every time the family got bigger."

Pony picked up the cover sheet and scanned the first page. Soda looked over at him. "I hope he made Cinnamon in charge," he said. "I know I'm next oldest, but she's smarter than me."

"No." Pony looked up, stunned. "It's Two-Bit."

"Mathews?" Soda and Cinnamon gasped together.

"You know another Two-Bit?" Pony said, annoyed.

"Why in the world would he ask Two-Bit?" Soda mused. "I mean, I get not asking me, but why not one of you?"

"So y'all wouldn't fight," Laura said.

"What?" Pony gasped.

"He couldn't think we'd fight," Cinnamon said in a small voice. "What's there to fight over, anyway?"

When their parents had died, there had been precious little, and it had been a moot point, since they all lived in the same house together for another four years. When first Cinnamon, then Pony, moved out, they took little pieces of their parents with them, with their brothers' blessings. The only real items of value were their parents' wedding rings; Mary's was put away for Laura and Darrel Sr.'s was on Ponyboy's left hand.

"Wait'll you see," Laura said. She looked almost excited, like it was Christmas morning. "He didn't think you'd be greedy but he was afraid you'd decide to change it among yourselves – like, give Aunt Cinny more because she's got two kids instead of one, or just let Dad keep everything, because we live here, like that. He thought you'd fight the other way, and he had very specific ideas on what he wanted to do with his money."

"How do you know that?" Soda asked.

Laura grinned. "Because he said I could be his financial advisor. You'll be surprised at what I know." She dug into the box and set three blue bankbooks on the table in front of her. "This is college money. This is Johnny and Sarah's. This is Danny's. And this one is mine. I'm allowed to use it for tuition and room and board and college and college-related things. Computers and books count but clothes and midnight pizza don't. And I'm allowed one spring break trip as long as I'm pulling at least a B. If I don't go to college, I have to give it to Uncle Darry's scholarship fund. Same rules for the little kids."

The adults were looking at her in shock. Pony slid Danny's bankbook out of the plastic cover and looked at the balance. "Holy shit," he said before he could stop himself. "How the hell did he do this?"

"He invested," Laura said. "He was good at it. He probably could have been a broker. He told me it was all figurin' and strategy, like football. He did it all on-line – he wrote down all the passwords for you. And some advice." She chuckled affectionately. "Control freak."

"On line?" Soda asked. Both Cinnamon and Ponyboy were fairly computer savvy, but Soda, though he'd bought a system for Laura to help her with her schoolwork, could barely turn one on. "I thought he was just playin' cards on there."

Ponyboy set the bankbook aside and pulled out another set of papers. "The house is paid off," he said in wonder. "It's been paid off for four years. Soda, did you know that?"

"No, I did not," Soda said, an edge creeping into his voice. "And that's damn funny since I kept giving him mortgage money."

Darry had refinanced the house right after Ponyboy graduated high school and made himself and Soda co-owners. Soda had signed the papers, noted to himself it'd be paid off sometime after Laura finished college, and continued to give Darry half every month. He'd tried to give more, arguing that he and Laura were two people to Darry's one. When Ponyboy and Cinnamon were established in jobs out of college, they both tried to give Darry money, a sort of a payback on their student expenses. He refused to take any of it.

"There should be a new deed," Laura said quietly.

Pony fished through the papers and found it. The house was left to the three of them equally. Soda and Laura were to live in it for as long as they liked, and when they wanted to sell it, the profits were to be split three ways. The mortgage money that Soda had been paying the last four years had been deposited into a separate account for him. It contained almost $30,000.

"Good Lord," Soda said weakly.

"Uncle Darry said you couldn't save worth a damn," Laura said. "And don't holler at me. I'm not swearing. I'm quoting."

"No, Uncle Darry was right." Soda drew a deep breath. "Glory be." He grinned at Pony and Cinnamon. "Y'all wanna be slumlords?"

"No, we can't do that," Cinnamon said. "That's not fair."

"Yes, it's fair." Soda held up the bankbook. "I think we should split this."

"No, that's your money," Pony said, "but the house – Cinnamon's right about that. We'll call the bank and figure out how to change that. The house should be yours. You've lived here your whole life – and it's Laura's home, too. "

He handed the deed to Sodapop and Laura leaned over and snatched the paper out of her father's hands.

"Laura Mary!" Soda scolded. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Uncle Darry said you'd do this and he said if you started I should make you quit until you were reasonable. That's exactly what he said, reasonable. He said it was his money and he could do what he wanted with it and for you all to mind your business." She glared at her father. "This is why he made Two-Bit the executor. He said he'd have picked me but I wasn't 18 yet." She put the deed back in the box. "Don't make me lock this up."

After a moment of astounded silence Soda burst out laughing. "All right," he said amiably. "What all else to you have to show us?"

There was a receipt from the funeral home indicating that the expenses had been pre-paid. There were three life insurance policies, each naming one of his siblings as beneficiary. There were also some investment accounts and a modest stock portfolio. Everything split carefully, evenly, three ways. When all was said and done, Darrel Curtis Jr. had been just about a millionaire. He'd invested well and saved wisely and left it for those he loved most.

There was stunned silence around the table. Cinnamon and Pony had gone into separate fits of weeping at the thought that Darry was still taking care of them, and doing it well, as their parents would have wanted.

"There's one more thing." Laura opened the manila envelope she held on her lap and tipped it upside down.

Nine folded notes spilled out, the names clearly visible: Ponyboy. Soda. Cinnamon Marie. Laura. Johnny and Sarah. Michelle. Clinton. Danny (for Pony and Michelle. Two-Bit. Some of them were in Laura's writing.

"He dictated, when he couldn't hold the pen," she explained. "But he wouldn't let me write my own. He made me promise not to tell you until after – well, until today. I didn't even peek at mine." She pulled it out of the pile, caressing it. "But I really wanted to."

"I'm a little worried you're this sneaky," Soda said faintly.

"Don't be, Daddy," she answered. "It was for a good cause."