Lady Blues

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  “I remember more. Much more.”

  I stopped playing, but he kept right on. “You do?”

  He nodded and smiled slyly. “Indeed. Would you like to come to my room in a while, so we can discuss it?” The old codger knew how much he’d intrigued me.

  I nodded enthusiastically. “Of course I would. When?”

  He laughed and began a new song. “Just one more tune.”

  Don’t know why

  There’s no sun up in the sky

  Stormy weather.

  I slid over to allow him full range of the keyboard. I waited, while Debbie passed out little paper cups with big pink pills in them.

  Memorphyl.

  ***

  Kip hobbled out of the sunroom, throwing out promises along the way to return later and play for the reveling crowd. His long white hair waved in the air, a silky contributor to the statesman-like image he projected.

  I walked beside him, in awe of him, his recovery, his giant presence. The group seemed to ripple with pleasure when he spoke to them. He excited them, attracted them, and believed in them. The man belonged on stage, or at least as a director of a dynamic group of musicians or actors. I pictured him, in the brief instant we strolled to his room, as a rollicking pastor, a movie producer, even President of the United States.

  The valise sat open on the same table, beside two piles of letters. Kip sat in his usual green vinyl chair near the window, and I perched on the side of the bed beside him.

  “Here. See these?” He waved a few of the letters in the air. The crinkly stationery boasted neat scrawls of right-slanted penmanship with artistic loops and flamboyant capital letters. I caught a whiff of perfume as he flourished them in the air.

  “Lavender?” I asked, surprised at the scent. The letters had been sealed in the suitcase for years.

  “It’s the oilskin,” he said. “It protected the essence, the oils, so they didn’t evaporate. Amazing, isn’t it?” He handed me a few letters.

  “Was that Bella’s perfume?” I asked.

  He nodded, closing his eyes and inhaling another batch. “Indeed. Lavender was her signature. My Bella. I can feel her right now. As if she’s beside me.”

  I glanced at the letters that began with terms of endearment. “Are you sure you don’t mind me reading these, Kip? I don’t want to intrude on your privacy.” Of course, I was dying to find out more about Bella, but felt like I should ask permission.

  “Oh, no. I’ve culled the more, er, intimate letters from the pile. They’re over here.” He tapped a tall pile of unfolded stationery. “Those in your hand are a bit more, um, sedate, I guess you’d say. But the important thing is that Bella documented much of our life’s events. I’ve got names of friends, associates, and musicians. Most are first names. But go ahead, see what I mean.”

  I studied the first letter, scanning the elegant handwriting for clues.

  My darling Kip…most wonderful time last night…meet me at Corrina’s at nine…Glenn said practice is Wednesday at seven…Can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.

  Flipping it over, I read to the bottom. It was signed, Arabella. “Arabella?” I said.

  His dark blue eyes shone. “That’s what helped me remember. Bella was her nickname. And when I saw the name Arabella, it jump-started my memory.”

  I leaned closer. “What did you remember?”

  With a self-satisfied grin, he lifted the stationery to his face and inhaled once more. “Her name. I remembered her full name.”

  “And?” I said. If he was trying to torture me, it was working.

  “Her name was Arabella Mae Dubois.” He pronounced Dubois the French way, which sounded like Doobwah. “Think maybe we can figure out who I am, by searching records for Arabella’s history?” he said.

  “Of course.” I was convinced we’d find something. “Come on. Let’s go back to the sunroom and start searching. I’ll give you some lessons, too, so we can double up on the effort. Sound good?”

  He stood up and beckoned to me. “What are you waiting for, young man? Let’s go.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Debbie sat down with us at the PC, helping lead Kip through the mysteries of their archaic system. We finally got online, and I’d just begun to help him learn how to search on Google when my cell phone rang.

  “Excuse me,” I mumbled, backing away to find a quiet corner near the window. My home number flashed on the screen. “Hello?”

  Siegfried rushed his words, his sentences peppered with German.

  “What did you say, buddy? Something about Thom?”

  “Ja, ja. Professor, come home, please. You will drive Lily and me to the hospital to see Thom? The doctor lady called. We meet her. She speaked Korean with Lily. Remember? He is nicht gut. She say Lily must come. Now.”

  Siegfried’s English was normally not this bad. He was really shaken up. “Okay, Sig. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t worry. We’ll have Lily up there soon.”

  I made my apologies and hurried to the exit, colliding with the silver-haired rep from Novacom. He’d just turned from flirting with the platinum Frigidaire at the reception desk when he slammed his black briefcase into my back.

  She giggled when he glared at me, muttering insults under his breath.

  “Yeah. Same to you, too, pal,” I said, heading for my car.

  Siegfried had never driven outside of East Goodland and Conaroga. Highways petrified him, and he viewed the city streets as a maze. I’d been his link with the outside world for most of our lives, and I didn’t intend to let him down now.

  I pushed it, arriving home in seven minutes. Siegfried and Lily waited on the porch and ran for my car before the driveway dust settled.

  “Did you tell Camille where we’re going?” I said.

  “Ja. She just got home. She says good luck.”

  Sig and Lily jumped in the back and buckled up. I pulled around in a circle and headed out again. Lily shrank down in the back seat.

  I could barely see her face in the rear view mirror. “Are you okay, Lily?”

  She nodded, hiding her eyes beneath her hair. Sig slipped an arm around her shoulders and patted her arm with his giant hand. Her head sank into his chest and stayed there for the rest of the trip.

  We reached the hospital in thirty-five minutes, found a parking spot on the fourth level, and hurried to the burn unit. Dr. Reed and Dr. Kwon met us outside the ICU, empathy etched on their faces.

  I’d seen that look before. When the cops came to tell me they’d found Elsbeth’s body at the bottom of the Letchworth Gorge. When my father had passed from cancer. When my grandmother died. It was the “we’ve-got-something-horrible-to-tell-you-and-we’re-very-uncomfortable” look.

  My heartbeat kicked up when we approached. Siegfried sensed it, too, and tightened his grip around Lily’s shoulders. I stood beside them and watched her sag as Dr. Kwon explained in Korean. She slumped to the floor, but Siegfried caught her and shuffled her to a bench near the wall.

  Dr. Reed put one hand on my sleeve. “I’m so sorry. He took a very sudden turn for the worse. We think it was a viral cardiac infection. Totally unrelated to the burns, but perhaps in his weakened state…”

  “He’s dead?” I said, still not sure what happened.

  She dropped her eyes, and cast a glance over to Lily. “I’m afraid so. I’m very sorry.”

  I didn’t respond or thank her. I simply fell into the seat beside Lily, who sobbed uncontrollably in Siegfried’s arms. Dr. Kwon tried to lean down to talk to her, to comfort her, I guessed. But Lily couldn’t respond.

  A nun appeared out of nowhere, and somehow ushered us into one of the little quiet rooms made for grieving and hysterical weeping that springs from sudden loss. Dr. Kwon followed Lily, and Dr. Reed bowed out, her eyes moist with apology.

  Lily had used up half the Kleenex box by the time she calmed enough to accept a drink of water from Siegfried.

  His eyes, previously glued to his love, finally met mine, beseeching m
e. “Professor? How can I help her?”

  I shot him an empathetic look and squeezed his shoulder. “You’re doing fine. Just keep comforting her. She’ll need you more than ever now, Sig. You’re all she has left.”

  Dr. Kwon seemed to have something on her mind and gestured for me to follow. “I truly am sorry, Professor LeGarde. I need to speak to Lily, but perhaps this isn’t the time.” Her voice trailed off weakly.

  “Can I help?” I said, wondering what she meant. Was it about a death certificate? Viewing the body? The worry behind her normally placid expression seemed somewhat out of place.

  “I’m not sure. It’s rather private, some things Mr. Kim told me before he died.”

  “He was lucid?” I said.

  She nodded, picking at the frayed hem on her white coat. “We took him out of the coma yesterday, just before the virus hit. His fever was high, and he was raving. But what he said, over and over again, seemed real. It’s something Lily might need to know. Or should know, if she doesn’t already.” She wrung her hands and looked back toward the room. “I don’t know how to handle it. She’s not in any state now to hear about this.”

  I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. It was all happening so fast, I still hadn’t adjusted to the idea of Thom’s death. “Listen. Lily has no one now. Thom was her only relative in this country. She sure won’t be coming back up here anytime soon. And she’s got the funeral arrangements to deal with now. If you want, you can trust me with the information. Or, you can come visit her after she’s pulled back together. It’s up to you.”

  “Is Siegfried her fiancée?” she asked hopefully.

  I nodded. “They’re talking about marriage. And building a house.”

  “And you’re his brother?”

  “Brother-in-law. He was my deceased wife’s brother.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, and pulled me over to a bank of chairs. “Okay. Then I guess it’ll be all right. I don’t want to withhold information that might explain her history. Or Thom’s behavior. She really should know.”

  A sudden wave of exhaustion hit me. I pushed it back and leaned toward her. “You’re doing the right thing for Lily. Go ahead.”

  Her beeper flashed and bleated. She unclipped it and glanced at the number. “Oh, God. Not another one. I’m sorry, Professor, this will have to wait.”

  She rushed back to the ICU, shouting over her shoulder. “I’ll call you later.”

  I let loose a huge frustrated sigh and headed back into the grieving room to help Lily and Siegfried.

  ***

  When we arrived home, Siegfried guided a zombie-like Lily inside. She’d wept all the way home. It had come in waves, unchecked and uncontrollable. Her eyes, swollen and red, streamed tears as she alternately wailed and sobbed.

  My heart bled for her. I felt her pain acutely, remembering my own losses: my grandparents, parents, and Elsbeth. Last summer, when we’d visited Europe for our honeymoon, Camille and I had been told Siegfried died in a powerful explosion. The news had crippled me, and for weeks I’d endured a black shroud of severe depression, until we discovered our gentle giant, thankfully very much alive.

  Lily walked into the kitchen as if unsure of her destination, reeling and bumping into the counter. Siegfried gently directed her toward Mrs. Pierce’s bedroom. Camille and Shelby murmured kind words as she passed, touching her sleeve and exchanging glances of empathy when she didn’t respond.

  I cracked open the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water. Although she probably wouldn’t drink anything now, I knew she’d need it soon. She’d been crying for two hours, and my instincts told me she’d need some water soon to prevent dehydration. I wanted to help her, comfort her, knowing how much she hurt. I decided to brew a pot of herbal tea in a while and bring both Lily and Sig a hot meal.

  He helped her to the bed in Mrs. Pierce’s room, where she slumped onto the pillows and began to cry again.

  Siegfried gently removed her shoes and pulled a blanket over her. I set the water bottles on the nightstand, and backed out as Siegfried settled on the bed beside her. He flashed a grateful smile in my direction and I pulled the door closed.

  “Is she all right?” Shelby asked, hovering near the doorway. Her face was drawn, her eyes full of concern.

  “I’m afraid not,” I said gently. “Her brother just died, honey. He’s the only family she had left.”

  Camille reached for Shelby, pulling her close. “She’s going to need our help, sweetheart. Lots of understanding and tenderness. It will take a long time for her to recover. But in time, she’ll heal.”

  “I feel so awful for her,” Shelby said, backing away from her mother. She brushed the tail of one of her braids against her lips with a nervous gesture.

  “I know,” Camille said, flashing me a sad look. “Me, too.”

  The phone rang, startling us out of our reverie. I scooped the receiver off the wall unit in the kitchen.

  “Professor LeGarde?”

  I recognized the voice at once. “Dr. Kwon.”

  “Yes. Hello. Sorry about having to rush off like that earlier. We nearly lost another patient. But she’s stable now.”

  “Good,” I said. “You’ve had enough tragedy for one day.”

  “Indeed.” She paused. “So, you got Lily home okay?”

  “She’s here with Siegfried, but she’s still overwrought, which isn’t surprising. I’m going to call my doctor to see if he can prescribe a sedative.”

  “Good idea. She’ll need her rest to deal with the days to come. If you need me to help translate when she’s ready, I will. I’ve got the weekend off.”

  “That’s very kind of you. We might just take you up on that.”

  She hesitated for a minute, then blurted, “About what I started to say at the hospital earlier.”

  I nodded into the phone. “The suspense has been killing me, to tell the truth.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it, and I really don’t feel comfortable revealing this to anyone but Lily. It’s extremely personal.”

  “I understand,” I said. I slumped against the wall, feeling drained. Although terribly curious about Thom’s deathbed confessions, what I really wanted was a hot meal and my own soft bed.

  Dr. Kwon continued. “I apologize for jerking you around like this. I’m not trying to be melodramatic. It just struck me after you left, that telling anyone but Lily would be indiscreet.”

  “Of course,” I said. “And you’re the only one who can explain it to her properly, anyway. Our sign language and baby-talk English can only go so far.”

  “I know. I’m going to wait a little while to tell her, though. She has to deal with this current trauma first. It would be too hard right now.”

  “Good idea.” I shifted the phone to my other ear and turned to watch Camille and Shelby huddling together by Lily’s door. “Listen, let us know when you’d like to visit with her.”

  “I will. Maybe in a few days? Call me when you’re making the arrangements, and I’ll explain it to her.”

  “Okay.”

  She gave me her home phone number and we hung up. The phone rang again as soon as I let go of the receiver. Wondering what Dr. Kwon had forgotten, I picked it up and pressed it to my ear. “Did you forget something?”

  “Pardon? Gus? It’s Adelaide.”

  Hearing Mrs. Pierce’s voice was like being wrapped in a warm towel after running through the freezing rain. Surprised at how much I missed her, I wanted her home to help us deal with the current disaster. “Adelaide! It’s so good to hear your voice. Are you headed home?”

  She was due to arrive tomorrow, Saturday.

  “No, Gus. I’m sorry. That’s why I’m calling.”

  My heart dropped. “Oh?”

  “I’ve decided to spend another week with Eloise. There have been developments.” Her voice darkened and faltered.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t being too blunt for our old-fashioned mother hen.

  �
�It’s her blood pressure. It jumped up to nearly two hundred over one hundred and thirty today. I took it myself with her home kit. Three times, Gus. We’ve made an appointment tonight at her after-hours place.”

  “Wow. That is high. I’m glad you’re taking her in.”

  “Me, too. I don’t know how I’d cope if anything happened to Eloise, Gus.” Her voice cracked.

  I summoned the last vestiges of my empathy and calmed her, addressing her fears and assuring her we could do without her for another few days. By the time we hung up, Camille had defrosted a container of split pea soup and had toasted crackers smeared with butter in the broiler. We ate in silence until Freddie and Adam arrived with the children. After they’d eaten, I explained to them about Lily’s brother. I took over Siegfried’s chores in the barn, and stumbled back inside and fell asleep in minutes, dreaming of secrets and Arabella Mae Dubois.

  Chapter Nineteen

  On Saturday morning, a week after Thom died, I slumped at the kitchen table with a cup of mint tea and a whole-wheat English muffin, split, toasted, and smothered in peanut butter. The clock on the stove blinked eight-thirty, and in spite of the cloudy morning, a cacophony of birds squawked and flitted around the bird feeders. They sounded brazen and ridiculously happy. It seemed completely inappropriate.

  Foolish birds. Don’t they know someone just died?

  I chewed on the muffin and took another sip of hot tea as the rest of the house slept in. Mrs. Pierce was still at her sister’s house, praying the second medicine they’d given Eloise would take effect soon. She had experienced dizziness, and had been hospitalized twice in the last week.

  Max lay at my feet, thumping his tail on the linoleum and following my hands as they traveled from plate to mouth. His big blue eyes chased the motions faithfully, knowing me too well. I broke off a crust and tossed it to him. He caught it mid-air, chewed, swallowed, and snapped back to attention, ready for more.

  I’d had difficulty pulling myself out of the funk caused by yet another death. Even the call of the garden seemed muted, like all my senses dulled with the uncomfortable and close proximity of death revisited. Old visions of suffocating illnesses, nightmarish memories, and funerals past, haunted me.