“Oh, Beryl, you’re here!” Edith whispered, rising from her chair to hug her.
“Where is everyone?” Beryl asked, whispering also.
“They were here earlier, but Marian and Nick both had to go to work for a while.” She glanced at her watch. “I guess they’re home having dinner now.”
Beryl pulled a chair up next to her mother and got an update on his condition. “They did the balloon procedure today and the doctor said he’s going to be fine. He’s very lucky.”
“Have you eaten?” Beryl asked.
“Not since this morning,” Edith admitted. “I didn’t want to leave him.”
“I’m so glad Nick and Marian were here for you,” Beryl longed to say, but she wasn’t sure her mother would get the point.
“Did Dad eat any dinner?”
“A little. He wasn’t very hungry after the procedure,” Edith said.
“He’s sleeping. Why don’t we go grab a bite?” Beryl suggested, her stomach growling hungrily as she also hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
They informed his nurse where they would be in case anything happened and made their way to the hospital cafeteria. Occupied by scattered groupings of hospital staff and other family members of patients, the cafeteria atmosphere was hushed, conversations quiet. Filling a tray with sandwiches and drinks, Beryl and Edith found a corner table.
“Had Dad been feeling bad?” Beryl asked as she ate ravenously.
Edith shrugged as she nibbled disinterestedly on her sandwich. “You know him. He wouldn’t say if he was.” She frowned. “But he was up the past couple of nights, taking an antacid.”
Beryl’s eyebrows went up, but she tried to control her voice as she said, “And neither of you thought that was something to have checked out?”
Edith’s face flushed a bit and she said a trifle sharply, “Well, now it seems obvious, but the thought of a ten-hour wait in an emergency room to check out what felt like indigestion didn’t seem necessary.”
“Sorry,” Beryl mumbled. She rubbed her forehead, only now realizing what a horrendous headache she had. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“I would have thought Aggie might have come with you,” Edith said, a hint of disapproval in her voice.
Taking a deep breath before answering, Beryl said, “She was going to. But we needed time to arrange a substitute for her, and Marian called me this morning to tell me I needed to come now.”
“I wonder why on earth she did that,” Edith said.
“About now, I’m wondering the same thing,” Beryl muttered.
When they got back upstairs, Beryl peeked in long enough to see that her father was still sleeping. “I need to make a phone call,” she told her mother. “I’ll be right back.”
Down in the lobby once more, Beryl called Aggie.
“Hi,” she said when Aggie picked up on the first ring.
“How are you? Are you okay?” Aggie asked immediately.
“I’m fine,” Beryl said, rubbing her forehead again. “It was… I’m sorry I left the way I did. I didn’t even get to say good-bye to you,” she said, her throat tightening.
“I know,” Aggie murmured. “How’s your father?”
“They did an angioplasty earlier today and I guess it worked. My mother is here, but doesn’t have a lot of information. I’d like to talk to the doctor myself.”
“Your mother was there alone?” Aggie asked.
“Yeah.”
There was a very pregnant pause, both sides of the connection bristling with things not said aloud.
“Were you able to get everything at work rearranged?” Aggie asked presently.
“Yes. Everything else I was working on can wait, but the lecture series will cause some other things to have to be rescheduled. It will impact about five other people, but they were very understanding,” Beryl explained. “How about you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aggie said coolly.
“I’m sorry,” Beryl said.
“I know.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow before school,” Beryl said.
“Okay.”
“Aggie?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
* * *
Beryl spent a restless night in her old room, now redecorated in a garish floral pattern on the bedspread, with matching curtains and wallpaper border. Waking every couple of hours, she finally gave up and went down to the kitchen at five. She made coffee and sat with her mug cradled in one hand, her other propping up her pounding head. I never get headaches like this, she thought. She searched the medicine cupboard and found a bottle of ibuprofen. She took three and decided to try eating some toast. She felt moderately better by the time her mother came downstairs.
“I’d like to be at the hospital early to catch the doctor,” Edith announced as she entered the kitchen.
“Fine,” said Beryl. “I’ll shower and be ready whenever you are.”
She called Aggie briefly while upstairs, promising to call again later with an update, then hurried to shower and dress. Despite her mother’s stated intention to get to the hospital early, it was nearly eight-thirty before she was ready to leave the house.
“Do you mind driving?” Edith asked. “It’s so much more convenient to have a car there.”
Beryl sighed, resigning herself to another crawl through traffic. She dropped her mother off at the entrance to the hospital and then spent nearly half an hour circling the parking lot, looking for an empty space, with the result that by the time she got up to her father’s room, the doctor had come and gone.
“There you are,” Marian said, gathering her purse. “I wondered where you got to. I have to go.” She turned to Edith. “I’ll be back later.”
“Where are you going?” Beryl asked.
“I have an appointment with a client,” Marian said.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing your work isn’t seven hours away,” Beryl said coldly.
Did you say that out loud? Judging from Marian’s double-take, she had.
She waited until Marian had left before asking her mother, “So what did the doctor say?”
“Oh, he said everything went well. Your father will be fine.”
Beryl stared at her. “Mom, Dad is not fine. He must have said more than that.”
Edith waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, the usual – no salt, lose weight, exercise. Doctors always say those things.”
Beryl threw out both hands in exasperation. “They say those things because they mean those things! If Dad’s angioplasty did go that well, he got lucky. And you both need to be making some changes.”
Edith frowned up at her. “I don’t need to be lectured by you, young lady.”
With a renewed throb in her head, Beryl clamped her mouth shut and turned to the window.
Later that afternoon, Ridley came to her. Beryl met him in the lobby, and vented to him as they sat down in the cafeteria. “Dad hasn’t said anything except he feels fine, and my mother acts like everything is normal now. My brother popped in once today for about thirty minutes, and my sister somehow manages to time her visits so she’s always there for the doctor and acts like she’s in charge of everything. And then she goes back to work.”
“So in other words,” Ridley grinned sympathetically, “nothing has changed.”
Beryl stared at him and barked out a laugh. “You’re right.” She shook her head. “Nothing has changed.”
She looked up at him shrewdly. “Or has it?”
Ridley flushed and a reluctant grin tugged at his mouth. “Yeah. It has.”
Beryl grabbed his arm excitedly. “Really?”
He nodded. “It’s still… we’re working things out, but, thanks to you, we’re together.”
“Oh, Ridley, I am so happy for you. For both of you.”
He held her hand tenderly. “I knew you would be.” He looked down at her hand, so small against his palm. “I know the way you
and I got to know one another was terrible, with David’s death and all, but…” He looked up at her. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you in my life.”
Beryl bit her lip, trying to contain the impulse to fling her arms around him. Instead, she simply said, “Ooorah.”
* * *
Gerald was kept in the hospital for two more days while they monitored his heart and put him through a nuclear stress test before pronouncing him fit to be sent home.
“You are a very lucky man,” his cardiologist stressed the one time Beryl was able to be present. “As it is, you have lost about fifteen percent of your heart’s output, so you will notice that you tire more easily. You are going to have to exercise and lose weight,” he repeated for probably the fifth time. “And I want you to monitor your blood pressure daily. Bring the monitor with you for your follow-up with me in two weeks,” he added as his assistant scheduled the appointment.
Friday evening, with Gerald settled in his den, Beryl told her mother she would be leaving in the morning.
Edith looked up sharply from the stove where she was heating up some soup. “I thought you would stay until Sunday at least.”
“I’ve been here all week,” Beryl pointed out. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I live the farthest away now; once here, I can’t run in to my work to take care of the things I left undone. Marian and Nick acted like I didn’t care because I didn’t drop everything and rush out here immediately. I don’t have the luxury of panicking. If I’m to leave, I have to take the time to get things squared away so I can be gone for several days. Please keep that in mind in case something happens again.”
“You really said all that?” Aggie asked later that evening when Beryl recounted the conversation.
“That’s not all.”
Pulling out a kitchen chair, Beryl had said, “Mom, we need to talk.”
Once her mother was seated, Beryl took an adjacent chair and said, “There’s something else I need to make absolutely clear.” Her folded hands clenched tightly together, she took the leap she had never taken before. “Aggie is my partner. My spouse. I know you probably realized that with Claire, but we never talked about it. That… that situation was never a really good one, but things with Aggie are different. I’m different. So… any time I come home from now on, Aggie will be with me.” Meeting her mother’s eyes for the first time, she added, “I just wanted you to know.”
Edith sat like a statue for several seconds. “Well…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t think we should tell your father. At least not right now. I don’t know if his heart could take this.”
“She actually said that?” Aggie asked, chuckling when Beryl told her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh.” But Beryl could still hear her giggling even with her hand covering the phone.
Chapter 38
Corinne and Helen arrive back at the Bishop house three weeks after receiving the telegram.
“You don’t have to come,” Corinne had said upstairs in their hotel room – the only night they would get to spend in Paris – when Helen announced her intention to accompany her.
Helen took her by the shoulders. “Of course, I’m coming with you. Going on without you now is unthinkable.”
Corinne, who had contained her tears and her disappointment up to that point, broke down, sobbing as Helen held her.
When the tears subsided, Helen smiled at her and said, “Come on. Let’s get dressed up and do the town. We’ve got one night.”
“And what a glorious night it was,” Corinne would recall later, not just on the voyage home, but for the remainder of her life.
Helen, looking resplendent in “a tuxedo!” Corinne had exclaimed, took her dining and dancing.
“We’re in Paris,” Helen said when Corinne held back. “The city of Renée Vivien and Natalie Barney. A city where no one will care that we are lovers.”
Abandoning caution, Corinne let herself be swept away by Helen as they dined at an expensive restaurant, even taking the dance floor – “I didn’t know you could dance,” Corinne laughed – and strolled the streets during the early hours of the morning, reveling in the freedom to hold hands as they walked. They stopped for a late espresso at one of the cafés.
“No champagne,” Corinne had declined. “I want to remember every second of this night with you.”
They had stayed out all night – “time enough to sleep once we’re on the boat,” Helen had insisted – greeting the dawn from the Eiffel Tower as they kissed passionately, Corinne wishing the sun would never rise and the night would never end.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re home!” Mary Bishop exclaims as Corinne and Helen are admitted to the foyer. She notices that Corinne makes no response as she returns her mother’s embrace.
“Frances, could we have some tea, please?” Mary asks, ushering the girls into her study.
“Tell us what happened,” Corinne requests as she sits wearily.
“Your sister had been complaining of headaches,” Mary says, and Corinne understands the unspoken, “which we dismissed as another of her vague maladies.”
She pauses as the tea tray is brought in. She prepares to pour for all three of them, continuing, “I was volunteering at the hospital and hadn’t noticed that she hadn’t come down. The servants thought she was with me, and so hadn’t gone to check on her. When we found her on the floor of her room…” she pauses in her narrative, swallowing hard and trying to keep her composure. “The doctors say the stroke was very damaging. A bleed in the brain.”
At this point, her hands are trembling so badly that she splashes tea over the edge of the cup. Helen kneels next to her and gently takes the teapot from her hands and pours. Mary sits back with a grateful smile.
“She has no speech, beyond unintelligible grunts,” Mary says stoically. “She has no movement at all on her right side, and very little on the left. We cannot tell if she understands anything.”
Corinne sits, stunned. She had known it must be bad for her mother to summon her home, but she’d had no inkling it would be this bad. “Will she be able to come home?” she asks.
Mary sips her tea before saying, “The doctors say we should put her in a care home.”
Corinne slumps, and Helen quickly reaches out to brace her.
“The expense,” Corinne says weakly. She sets her untouched tea cup down. “What is happening at the bank?”
“The board is actively looking for a buyer,” Mary says. “But I think they may reconsider now you’re home,” she adds hopefully.
From the corner of her eye, Corinne sees Helen’s hand tighten spasmodically on the arm of her chair, for they both know what this will mean.
* * *
“I have a Christmas card for you, Miss Bishop,” Becka said sycophantically while the other students were still shuffling from the classroom.
“Thank you, Becka,” Aggie said, opening the envelope and reading the card. “It’s lovely,” she said, as she propped the card up on her desk.
Becka beamed, wishing Aggie a Merry Christmas as Aggie quickly gathered up her bag and ushered her from the room before she could settle at a desk to talk.
“You, too,” Aggie said, turning toward Shannon’s classroom.
“Hey,” she said, finding Shannon also gathering her things. “You all set?”
“Just a sec,” Shannon said as she shut down her computer and locked her desk. “Oh, God, I can’t wait to get to a warm, sunny beach.”
Aggie smiled. Travelling at Christmas sounded anything but appealing to her. “Your flight stops in Atlanta?” she asked.
Shannon nodded. “And from there, direct to Cozumel.”
Aggie tilted her head. She knew part of the reason Shannon travelled by herself was to avoid having to spend Christmas alone. She had no family she was close to, and now, since her divorce….
“You know you’re always welcome at our house,” she reminded her friend.
Shannon grinned. “I know.” She faked a shudder. “Bu
t all that domestic bliss… bleah. Give me little umbrellas in tall drinks and men with big –”
“Stop!” Aggie held her hands up, eyes closed tightly as she tried to shut out the image.
Shannon laughed. “Just get me to the airport.”
Half an hour later, with Shannon gleefully heading toward airport security, Aggie made her way home through rushhour traffic. “You have no idea what traffic is really like,” Beryl often laughed. “This is nothing!” she would insist, and from what Aggie had seen of D.C. traffic, she couldn’t argue. Nevertheless, the traffic this evening was testing her patience.
When at last she pulled into the driveway, she saw a black BMW 7-series parked there. “Oh shit,” she muttered, hurrying into the house.
She had no trouble locating her father as his voice boomed from the study.
“I don’t understand you!” he was shouting.
“What is the trouble?” Aggie asked, entering the study to find Aunt Cory sitting placidly in her chair while Edward paced agitatedly, his unbuttoned suit jacket flapping.
At the sound of her voice, Edward whipped around, pointing at Aggie. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“With what?” Aggie asked, completely confused.
“You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her!” he yelled.
“Dad,” Aggie said, holding up both hands. “Calm down and tell me what happened.” She glanced over at Cory and saw a tiny satisfied smile on her face which worried her much more than her father’s shouting.
Edward was pointing, almost incoherent in his anger. “She… she changed the terms of the trust!”
“What? I thought you can’t change the terms of a trust.” Aggie turned to Cory, her mouth agape. “When? How?”
“Do sit down, both of you,” Cory invited calmly.
Ignoring her, Edward asked, “How did she get downtown to the lawyer’s office? You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her,” he bellowed again.
“Okay,” Aggie said, getting angry herself now. “‘Keeping an eye on her’ means keeping her safe, not treating her like a prisoner in her own home.”
“I will explain everything if you will only sit down,” Cory repeated, gesturing to the two vacant chairs.
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