Webs of the Mind
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The two story brownstones had a sameness about them. The thing that differentiated each from the other were the varying degrees of dark mold accumulated around the gutters and down spouts. There was an old woman seated at the upstairs picture window of the second brownstone from the right. She was seated on a small, straight-backed wooden chair and she stared out the window. The starkness of the scene was softened by two rows of sabal palms, a row on each side of the street. They reached up higher than the height of the brownstones and seemed to explode with fronds. The old lady fixed her gaze at the top of a single palm. She stared for hours. A thin cushion beneath her backside was invisible under her girth. The sides of her face fell to her joweled chins and gave her head a square appearance. Her white hair, patched with black strands, added to her appearance of disarray. Her married name, which she now only occasionally remembered, was Bertha Gannon. She was ninety-two years old. Her son stood to her right. He was somber as he stared down at the old woman. The white-black hair appeared to shoot up from the neck of her plain brown dress. Her lips moved but no words came forth. The upper lip was alive with short, light hairs that formed an almost invisible mustache and the hairs quivered as she attempted to breathe her words. She did not look at her son. She moved her body slowly, very slowly, from side to side like a palm frond in a gentle wind. He offered her two wafer cookies. She ignored him and reached for a half full cup of tepid coffee on a portable table set before her. The thumb and forefinger of her right hand grasped the cup handle. As she raised it, her hand trembled and her left hand moved to the base of the cup to steady it. The old lady tilted the cup upwards and mouthed the coffee but spilled most of it. The spill trickled down her chin and came to rest as drops on her dress. She leaned toward the small table, put the cup down, tilted her head back, and showed the wetness of her lower jaw.
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About the Book
When Derek and Sylvia’s mother, an old woman, was placed in a total care facility after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, Derek was appointed the Guardian of her property by Court Order. He discovered his mother had millions of dollars in corporate stocks in her seldom used safe deposit box. Sylvia, attempts to gain control of the guardianship by making a play for the judge. She succeeds, and the Derek takes the ruling to the Appeals Court. The lawyers for both parties are maneuvering throughout the trial, in secret meetings and during the appeal, to bring a settlement for the best interests of the parties and themselves. Sylvia makes a play for her lawyer as well as the judge in hopes of getting the money. It’s the play of her life. She wants it all. She’ll let no one stop her.
About the Author
Pat McGrotty has been writing fiction and non fiction since the 1960’s. His work has appeared in The Today, the national magazine of AA; his nonfiction work has been published by The University of Miami Law Review and his name is found on briefs filed with Appellate Courts throughout the State of Florida. In this book, Webs of the Mind, the deterioration of an aged woman’s mind and her inability to care for herself lead to placing her under the jurisdiction of a Guardianship Court. A legal battle ensues when her son and daughter vie to become her guardian and manage her millions of dollars. Sibling turns against sibling. Greed and hate become the order of the day and the author describes the bloodletting. The author shows the workings of Guardianship and Probate Courts in detail and guides the reader through the Court’s complexities. Mr. McGrotty practiced law in Florida for 40 years before his recent retirement. He lives with his wife in Palm Beach County, Florida, where he is at work on his third novel.