Page 116 - Too Much and Never Enough - Mary L. Trump

works.” I understood the point he was trying to make, but it felt as though it was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Out with the old, in with the new.” At least he had tried. Fred and Donald didn’t act as if anything was different. Their son and brother was dead, but they discussed New York politics and deals and ugly women, just as they always had.
When Fritz and I were home for Christmas vacation, we met with Irwin Durben, one of my grandfather’s lawyers and, after Matthew Tosti died, my mother’s main contact, in order to go over the details of my father’s estate. I was shocked to find out that he had one. I thought he’d died virtually penniless. But apparently there were trust funds that had been set up by my grandfather and great-grandmother, such as the one that had paid for boarding school, that I didn’t know about at the time. They were to be split between me and my brother and kept in trust until we turned thirty. The people appointed to manage those trust funds and to protect our long-term financial interests were Irwin Durben, my aunt Maryanne, and my uncles Donald and Robert. Although Irwin was the point man—it was he we had to call or meet with if we had a question or a problem or any unforeseen financial needs—Donald was the ultimate arbiter of approval and the cosigner of all checks.
Stacks of documents covered Irwin’s desk. He sat in his chair behind them and began to explain what, exactly, we were about to sign. Before we got very far, Fritz interrupted him and said, “Mary and I talked about this earlier, and first we need to make sure that Mom will be taken care of.”
“Of course,” Irwin said. Then over the next two hours he methodically went through every piece of paper. The actual amount of money my father had left wasn’t clear to me. The trusts were complex financial arrangements (at least to a sixteen-year-old), and there was what seemed to be a huge tax burden. After explaining each document’s significance, Irwin pushed it across the desk for us to sign.
When he finished, he asked if we had any questions.
“No,” Fritz said.
I shook my head. I hadn’t understood a thing Irwin had said.