Entangled threads, p.21
Entangled Threads, page 21
Annie asked, “How easy would it be to amend her trust?”
“Amending a trust can be pretty straightforward, but it might be best to make out a new one. That way she doesn’t even have to let her husband know until it’s done.”
“There isn’t any way he could challenge it?”
“Not legally, not if it deals with the assets she brought into the marriage. The problem is whether or not she can get her hands on the documentation to prove which assets are hers. For example, if he bought property with the money she inherited, did he put her name on the deed?”
“Yes, I can see how that could be a problem. I don’t see her husband responding well if she asks to see things like property deeds or bank accounts.”
“I would recommend that the new trust appoint someone to be co-executor with her, perhaps a banker, or someone like Mr. Stein—certainly not Jack Sweeter. Then that person could take on responsibility of tracking down the assets, ensuring that her husband can no longer access them himself.”
“Would her husband have to be notified if that executor asked to see bank records, change beneficiaries, etc.?”
“It would depend. Say her money is in a bank account and he is listed on the account, the bank might very well have to inform him if he were removed.”
“Oh dear, that could be a problem.”
“Are you afraid he would hurt her in some fashion, if he knew what was happening?”
“He’s already showing signs of paranoia, although as I told you, he’s directing it at the Pioneer Mills. Unless he has some understanding of what is happening to him, I don’t see him taking kindly to his wife going behind his back in this manner.”
“That’s one of the reasons I suggested that someone like Herman Stein be asked if he would take on the responsibility of co-executor. Someone who could stand up to him.”
“But creating a new trust isn’t going to protect the mill, or any of William Larkson’s property, is it?” Annie stepped away to open up the bedroom curtains, revealing the usual gray of a foggy June morning.
“No. The only thing that would achieve that outcome, if it’s not already too late, would be to get him declared mentally incompetent and have the court appoint a guardian, with the power of attorney, to oversee his affairs.”
Nate, having heard the anguish in her voice, went over and pulled her into his arms. “Annie, you’ve steered her in the right direction by suggesting she consult with someone from my law firm. It’s up to her to act on this advice.”
Nate felt his wife pull away, and he sighed. He knew her so well. She wouldn’t let it alone, not until she was convinced she had done everything she could––one of her most infuriating but most admirable qualities––and he loved her all the more for it.
Annie confirmed this thought, saying, “But, Nate, she is so alone. I know from experience what it is like to live in a house in a city where I had no family, no real friends to turn to, in a constant state of terror about what my husband would do…to us…to me. And I think she loves her husband, or at least has affection for him…which makes it all worse. As I got ready to leave, do you know what she said to me? She asked if we could meet again…as friends. What could I do, but say yes? At least, if she has me to turn to, she won’t rely solely on Jack Sweeter.”
At a little after seven-thirty, Tilly brought them their breakfast, and Kathleen followed behind with Abigail, putting her in the highchair next to the table by the bay window. Breakfast was the one time each day that Annie could be sure both her daughter and her husband would be awake at the same time. Consequently, she did everything she could to carve out a whole hour for the three of them, no matter how early they had to get up. Saturdays, when Nate went into the office at nine, felt particularly leisurely.
Annie put down her knife and fork and leaned over to wipe her daughter’s face, which was liberally smeared with porridge. The child grinned, revealing the pearly four upper and lower teeth that Annie found so charming, except when her daughter decided to chomp on one of her fingers!
Nate tickled his daughter under her chin and, while she giggled, deftly removed the bowl and spoon from the highchair, having learned the hard way that Abigail thought flinging the porridge-covered spoon at him was a delightful morning activity.
He said, “Annie, have you ever been to that coffee house that recently opened up on Sutter?”
“The temperance one?”
“Yes, they opened up this year. Run by the same organization that opened up one on Market.”
“Yes, I believe they are all run by women who belong to the Women’s Christian Temperance Union. I gather, from what some of my female clients have said, this is a relatively new temperance group. Miss Greenfield, from the Chinese Mission, mentioned that she was trying to get a local branch formed. She went to their national convention and came back very excited by their work. She said the idea behind the coffee houses is to have a place for people to get a beverage and a quick meal where there aren’t spirits of some sort available. Why are you interested?”
“The coffee house and the women that run it came up in court yesterday in my divorce case.”
“How strange. Did Mrs. Pitts Stevens mention that there might be this connection to temperance when she referred the case to you?
“No, she did not, and I hope she can shed some light on the subject.”
“I thought it was a straightforward divorce case and that your client was suing based on extreme cruelty and failure to provide?”
“Yes, I thought so. However, today, my client in the divorce case, Mrs. Coster, confided in me that she blames the problems in her marriage on her husband’s overindulgence in alcohol. She said that when she married him ten years ago, her husband was kind and considerate and had a steady job. According to her, in the last four or five years his drinking has increased and this has affected his employment, which has become irregular. That’s why she’s had to draw on the small amount she inherited from her mother to cover the monthly bills, and she says he is out every night to all hours. She also reports that when he does come home, inebriated, he is verbally abusive to her and their two children.”
“Verbally? So, he hasn’t been physically abusive?”
“No, but Mrs. Coster insists she lives in constant fear that if she does the slightest thing wrong that he will beat her…something she says he has often threatened to do.”
“Can a woman get a divorce because her husband drinks too much?” Annie had wondered about that in the last months of her first marriage.
“Oh, yes, in this state she can. Habitual intemperance is a legal reason in California to file for divorce. On the other hand, it isn’t used very often because most men in society, including judges, drink every day…so how do you define habitual intemperance? I looked up the statistics for divorces that were awarded in this city last year. While over ninety of them were for extreme cruelty, only eighteen were for intemperance.”
“Then you are saying it is easier to make a case based on a husband’s behavior when drinking—calling it extreme cruelty—than on the drinking itself.”
“Yes, at least in our city’s courts.”
“That still doesn’t explain how the temperance coffee house came up in court.”
“In his opening argument, Mr. Coster’s lawyer announced that his client was going to countersue the women who run the coffee house for damages because they were responsible for the alienation of Mrs. Coster’s affections.”
“Good heavens!”
“That was my reaction. Usually, a suit based on the alienation of affections comes up when a man decides to sue another man who he believes seduced his wife. The husband can ask for damages or use the threat of the suit to persuade his wife not to ask for a divorce in order to avoid the scandal.”
Annie could imagine that this would be an effective threat for most women. “What exactly are these temperance women supposed to have done?”
“According to Mr. Coster’s lawyer, they interfered with his right to his ‘wife’s person, labor, and companionship,’ which is the standard legal phrase used in such suits. Since Mrs. Coster hasn’t left the home, it is hard to see how he’s been deprived of anything since she is keeping house and taking care of their children.”
“She could be depriving him of sex,” Annie blurted out.
Nate, looking uncomfortable, said, “I assume that might be the crux of the matter. Although, needless to say, the poor woman hasn’t discussed her marital relations with me. This is one of those cases where I wish that there were more than two female lawyers in the whole state!”
“Nate, you darling, you are blushing even thinking about having that sort of discussion with your client. Maybe you should ask Mrs. Pitts Stevens. Could be that Mrs. Coster was more forthcoming with her.”
There had been some tension between Annie and Nate at the beginning of their marriage because he felt inexperienced compared to her, a formerly married woman. She had assured him that his very inexperience raised her estimation of him, knowing how rare it was to have a man who didn’t feel that going to prostitutes was some sort of manly coming-of-age ritual. She also told him that her so-called experience with her first husband had ranged from the disappointing to the downright awful and that he had no reason to fear any comparisons. Since then, she felt quite confident he no longer entertained those fears.
Nate said, “Yes, I’m hoping that is true. I do know she interviewed Mrs. Coster before sending her to me. And I certainly want to get her opinion on how I should advise my client going forward.”
“How did Mrs. Coster respond to the idea of a suit against her temperance friends?”
“She was quite indignant!”
“Is there any possibility that the suit would succeed?”
“I doubt it. Thankfully, the judge is out of town until the middle of next week, so we won’t resume again until Thursday. This gives me time to do some research, as well as consult with Mrs. Pitts Stevens and my client.”
“Maybe you can represent the temperance women if they are sued! Make a name for yourself as a defender of women reformers!”
“I’m not sure Uncle Frank would be pleased with that…he is already uncomfortable with the firm becoming so associated with divorce cases. But divorces have certainly become a lucrative source of income for us, and I find the fluidity in the law regarding women’s rights interesting. Ever since the passage of the various women’s property rights acts in different states, the rulings governing marital relations have started to shift. California is no exception. We are still such a young state that it’s possible to have a simple case set an important precedent.”
“Is that part of the reason you are interested in pursuing Ada Bateson’s inheritance case, to set a precedent?”
“Oh, the precedent is already there. She should get one third of her mother’s estate, despite not showing up in the will. However, if the judge failed to uphold the law, I would most certainly advise Miss Bateson to appeal. What I’m unsure of is whether or not she is going to go forward with the case, not if that family friend, Miss Bateson calls Uncle Roger, has anything to do with it.”
Noticing the tale-tell smell emanating from her daughter, Annie took Abigail out of her highchair to change her diaper. Over her shoulder she said, “Has something new happened?”
“Yes, Roger Truman showed up today to watch me in court.”
“My goodness. Do you think he was there to assess your skills as a lawyer?”
“I expect so, although I was finishing my opening arguments, so I was only speaking for a brief time. The rest of the time, until the judge dismissed us for lunch, Coster’s lawyer was speaking.”
“Did you talk to Mr. Truman afterwards?”
“Yes, as I put Mrs. Coster into her hansom cab, he came up and asked if he could take me to lunch.”
“And you agreed? I thought you told me that you didn’t feel it was right to entertain either Ada’s fiancé or Mr. Truman without her present.”
Busy pinning the clean diaper securely on her wiggling daughter, Annie couldn’t turn to see Nate, but she noted that he didn’t answer her right away. She wished she hadn’t said anything. If she didn’t like it when he questioned her methods, she shouldn’t do the same to him.
As she pulled the child’s white cotton dress down over the diaper, she noted that despite the bib she’d tied on Abigail, spots of porridge from breakfast stuck to the front. She shrugged. This would not be the last stain her daughter would accumulate during the morning. Not with a child who got around mostly by crawling and was now insisting that she try to feed herself.
She picked Abigail up and placed her on the floor next to Nate, who immediately helped his daughter stand and hold on precariously to his knee.
He said, “The problem was, I really didn’t know how to say no to the man. Besides, Truman said that he was interested in the mention of a countersuit that had come up in court. I hoped that would be the main topic of our conversation. Anyway, it was hard to turn down a good meal. I figured this would mean I could work through supper, and you would appreciate it if I got home before you went off to sleep.”
Nate smiled, and Annie felt her cheeks burn, remembering how satisfying his unexpectedly early return last night had been. So satisfying that they hadn’t bothered to catch up on their respective days, which was why she was only now getting this report.
She fluttered her eyes at him and chuckled at the answering reddening of his cheeks. Then she said, “Why was he interested in the countersuit?”
“The temperance connection was what Roger Truman wanted to talk about. He pointed out that the people Miss Bateson met when she joined a temperance organization, including her fiancé, Orin Hemmings, were the ones encouraging her to challenge her mother’s will—just as it appeared that temperance reformers were the ones encouraging Mrs. Coster to ask for a divorce.”
“Does he see some sort of conspiracy at work? Do they even belong to the same temperance organizations?”
“That’s why I asked you about the temperance coffee house.”
Annie sat down and offered her daughter a rattle to get her to move away from Nate since she looked like she was about to start chewing on his trouser leg.
Nate nodded his thanks and said, “Yes, and Miss Bateson’s fiancé had mentioned that he and Miss Bateson were members of the Independent Order of the Good Templars. What I don’t know is if they would have any connection to the women running the temperance coffee shops.”
“Are you saying that Truman feels that Ada shouldn’t go forward because she’s been unduly influenced by temperance reformers?”
“Over lunch he did tend to go on about women nowadays not staying in the home where they belong.”
“Oh, Nate, how old-fashioned. Why isn’t he blaming the men who have caused both Miss Bateson and Mrs. Coster harm, rather than the people who are trying to make their lives better? He probably doesn’t believe in divorce.”
“You would think that, wouldn’t you? But he told me that he sincerely wished that Ada’s mother had been willing to divorce her husband, confirming what Orin Hemmings had said, that he was a mean drunkard who terrified his wife into submission and made her life miserable.”
“That’s unexpected. Did he say anything then about why is he against Ada standing up for herself and her rights?”
“I asked him that, and all he could say was that he didn’t want Miss Bateson to experience the embarrassment of her private difficulties being made public.”
CHAPTER 30
Saturday, early evening, June 17, 1882
Wilsons’ home, South of Market
“Biddy, your mother told me this morning that you would be by today! Come on in and sit down.” Meghan gestured towards the chair beside the bed.
Biddy hadn’t visited the Wilsons for a week, although her mother and her sister Alice had been visiting daily and had given steadily positive reports about how her cousin was doing. That hadn’t prepared her for how much Meghan had improved.
She was sitting up, her hair neatly braided, her eyes clear, and with good color in her cheeks and a genuine smile on her lips. Her hands were still loosely bandaged, but she only winced a bit when she waved them in a shooing gesture towards her mother, saying, “You go on and start on dinner. Biddy and I have a lot to catch up on.”
Her aunt Jeanne gave Biddy a stern look that spoke volumes, but she left, and Biddy, looking at Meghan for permission, closed the door behind her.
“Gosh almighty, you look good, Meghan. You had us a bit scared there at first.”
“I gather your quick thinking, getting that Dr. Blair and the nurse, Miss Kirk, to come see me, probably saved my life.”
“Oh, that was all Mrs. Dawson’s doing. You went to her place for that All Hallow’s Eve party three years…she was Mrs. Fuller back then. Turned out she’d done a bit of work for the Pacific Dispensary this winter, knew exactly who I should ask for.”
“Of course I know who Mrs. Dawson is. Kathleen Hennessey and little Tilly work for her. Nice lady, runs a boardinghouse and is some sort of bookkeeper?”
Biddy nodded, wondering if this was the time to bring up the Potrero Woolen Mills. “She’s real smart, checks to make sure there’s been no funny business with a company. That’s what got her involved with the dispensary. From what I understand, saved them from a spot of trouble. She also worked for Robert Livingston, the Silver Strike owner, when he was having problems with pilfering. The bit of work I did to help Mrs. Dawson out that time is what got me the job working as a sales clerk there.”
“But now she’s doing something with the Potrero Woolen Mills, and you’re working there as well, aren’t you?” Meghan leaned forward, as if she wanted to get a better look at Biddy. “Was that Mrs. Dawson’s doing as well?”
Biddy said quickly, “No, more of a lucky coincidence. I’d no idea that Mr. Livingston had hired her to look into things at the mill when I accepted the job there. Turns out he’s put a lot of money into the mill and now he’s worried about how the company is doing. He hired Mrs. Dawson to look at the books. But it’s come in handy to have me there, give her background on people, you know.”
