“Mary, I must say again, you have created a place of peace and safe refuge from the outside world to prepare us for the world. What a beautiful plan the Lord has created where a man and woman come together in love and through their oneness create a family with their Creator at the centre.
“Yes, there is nothing like a home…‘Home Sweet Home’…is very true, indeed!”
Chapter Thirteen
It was Tuesday morning. Jenny had spent most of the previous day packing, trying to stay focused on the job and not allowing herself to delve into self-pity or resentment. Not only could she still not believe that what she had thought was her home, never really had been, but now she also knew the truth about Henry and their letters…
She forgot the number of times she had read and re-read Henry’s letter since her Mom gave it to her. So many times she was angry with him for not writing and all along he had kept his promise just like she had kept hers to him. Jenny found it hard to believe what her parents had done. But she didn’t want to go there, neither did she want to dwell on regrets of how her life might have been so much different.
The blessing in all of this was that now she knew the truth and it brought some semblance of closure. Jenny wondered if that was part of the reason she could never let go of the relationship they had shared. It was such a spiritual connection and for Henry to have simply left and have intentionally chosen to just end their relationship was unthinkable. Jenny just knew in her heart that there was some reason why he had not written. Now she knew the truth, and knew that she had been right. Henry had loved her as much as she did him.
Was it possible that Henry could still feel the love in his heart for her that she still felt for him?
Jenny struggled to keep her focus off Henry’s letter and deal more with the move on hand. Her things were all packed and ready to be moved to her new apartment in the west end. The one thing she couldn’t pack, however, was the antique furniture she had collected over the years. She loved every piece and was hoping that James would let her take the furniture with her. She’d called James several times over the past few days to ask him, but was unable to get through to him. She’d lost track of how many messages she’d left with his two secretaries; calls that he hadn’t returned.
The furniture was the only thing she treasured in the entire house. Looking around the house, she was flooded with memories; every single piece of furniture held a story and she could remember vividly how she came to own each piece. As her eyes settled on the dining room table, she smiled just thinking about it.
She was very fortunate to have been at the antique shop just when the dining room set came in from an estate sale. She had purchased it immediately along with the upright curio cabinet with the curved glass door. It was perfect to hold all of Jenny’s favourite china and glass ballerinas she had collected over the years.
Jenny had bought each chair in the living room at different times. Each purchase was carefully considered and each had its own special appeal: the hand-carved arms and legs; the high Victorian back. One of her finds went back to the mid-eighteenth century and the needlepoint covering on the seat of the chair was still well intact.
Another of her favourite acquisitions was the round table in which she hid her diary. It had a secret compartment in the back of the drawer. She had discovered it in an antique shop in Minneapolis. A year later when she made a return trip to the same antique shop she was elated to come across a matching coffee table. Its three legs tapered down, as well, but stretched out much further along the floor like tentacles, providing firm support for the elongated, oval shaped table-top, but it had the same exact brass-clawed feet.
Perhaps, one of Jenny’s most prized possessions of all was the tea wagon. She had responded to a tiny ad in the paper. When she called about it, the address was in the older part of the city. Her instincts told her to check it out. She was very glad she did. An elderly lady planning to enter a care home had slowly been selling off all her furniture, piece by piece over the preceding year and a half.
Jenny immediately hit it off with the lady and had high tea with her. Jenny’s heart raced with excitement when the lady pushed the wagon into the living room. It looked brand new. The back wheels, covered with a narrow band of black rubber, were about a foot in diameter and had hand carved wooden spokes. The front wheels were much smaller and easily turned this way or that as the lady pushed it along by its ornate handle. On top of the gleaming walnut table-top rested a sterling silver tray upon which was a tall silver teapot and matching sugar and cream holders. Beside them sat fine bone china teacups and saucers with tiny sterling silver spoons.
The second shelf of the wagon held another tray. This one was all wooden with an oval glass bottom. It held the dainties and finger sandwiches. Jenny had been taken by the manner in which the lady so elegantly wheeled the wagon to where she was seated then raised one of the table leafs. She then set the tray with the sandwiches and dainties on top.
By the end of her visit, Jenny purchased the wagon, the sterling silver tea set, a half-dozen bone china tea cups and saucers, all different and unique in design. She also purchased a hand-carved, petite bedroom rocking chair. Jenny had not seen anything like it before or since.
Jenny studied each of the antiques in her collection, recalling how and where she’d acquired them. While she so loved each piece, James looked upon them with disdain. Just old garbage that should have been thrown out long ago.
“Frankly, they give me the creeps,” he would often say and lecture her each time she made another purchase. She’d allowed James to control every other aspect of her life, but she stood her ground when it came to her antiques.
She never really understood why he had relented and allowed her this pleasure, but she was thankful to him for this one exception to his orders and demands. Jenny knew he wouldn’t want this furniture, but as he hoarded everything he or his corporation possessed, she knew he would be reluctant to part with any of it. James knew that the antiques were valuable and Jenny feared that he may want to retrieve the money the company spent on them rather than just give them to her.
Another hour ticked away and still no answer from James. Jenny thought she would try one last time. If he didn’t answer, she would just leave. She felt and knew in her heart that James knew why she was trying to reach him. Perhaps the fact that he wasn’t returning her call was his answer. Just leave and get out of my life.
She reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed James’s direct line number one last time.
“Cismo Corporation, this is Rita, how may I help you?”
Some direct line.
“Yes, this is Marjorie Hamilton.”
“Oh, hello, Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Hello, Rita, is James in?”
“Please hold, I will see if he is available. I’ll just be a moment, Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Thank you, Rita.” Jenny heard a click as she was put on hold, and sat there listening to the deafening silence. Every time she talked to James she felt like she had a split personality. He called her Marjorie. Everyone else called her Jenny. He said it sounded more sophisticated and advised her always to use it for legal purposes and signing documents. Not that it mattered what name she’d signed. She still ended up with nothing.
One minute, then two, then five minutes passed. Hurt and anger wedged their way into Jenny’s psyche and feelings. They were already crowded with other unsettling thoughts. How could James be so rude and mean, not even calling to say good-bye? All she had ever been to him was the producer of the heir to his empire.
Jenny reached up and took hold of the pewter angel hanging on the end of the silver chain around her neck. As soon as she got home from visiting with her mother, she put the angel on the chain and immediately began to wear it as Henry wanted her to. It soothed her troubled spirit.
She was about to hang up when she heard another click.
; “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. Hamilton. Mr. Hamilton just finished his appointment and will take your call now. Please hold while I transfer you.”
Jenny’s heart raced. She hadn’t talked to James in months; the only communication she received was either through J.J. or one of James’ numerous lawyers or secretaries.
“Hello, Marjorie,” James said, with a tone of annoyance.
Thank God, this may be the last time I have to hear him call me that.
“Yes, it’s me, James. I was hoping you would be able to drop by before I leave.”
“I’m too busy for that. What is it you wish to talk about, Marjorie?”
“James, the movers are coming first thing in the morning to pick up my things. I would like to take the antique furniture with me. May I have it?”
There was a long silence, and Jenny could almost hear James’ mind churning, how to avoid giving anything up.
“You know I can’t make that decision, the house and all of the contents are owned by the company.”
“I realize that, James. If you want, I will pay you for it or the company or whatever. I can’t afford what it’s worth, but—”
“Let me think on it. When did you say the movers were coming?”
“This afternoon for the small things and tomorrow morning for my bedroom set. I’m sure you aren’t interested in that, are you?”
There was just silence at the other end, James once again not agreeing or disagreeing.
“I was hoping they might bring the antique furniture along at the same time. It’s really too small for this house, and I know how much you like modern furniture…and it will all fit into my new apartment.”
Though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t beg, she found herself almost doing it.
“Yes, I know all of that,” James said sharply. “Just take the damn furniture, Marjorie. I never could stand the stuff. All that old furniture coming from God knows where…always did give me the creeps.”
Jenny ignored James’s comments. All she heard was that she could keep her treasures.
“Thank you, James. And I will return the car to you before the end of the week.”
“Keep it too Marjorie, I don’t want it back, either.” The phone went dead…as dead as their relationship.
Jenny listened to the dial tone, trying to regain her composure. The phone clung to her damp hands. She almost had to shake it loose from her grip.
“I’m so glad that’s over,” Jenny said, as she shook her head.
Jenny got up and walked towards the patio. She wanted to have one last look at the garden estate. The afternoon sun was flickering off the green leaves of the low surrounding shrubs. The white daisies and geraniums glistened in the light. She looked towards the gazebo and thought about the many hours she’d spent there reading and writing in her diary.
The Angel of Thanksgiving! She’d forgotten to tell James that if she ever acquired a home she would send for it. She would have to drop him a note about it after she’d settled into her new apartment.
On her last walk around the gardens, she’d hoped to say good-bye again to Thomas, but she saw him unloading some sod. The flowers she had placed in the angel’s basket last week for James were still as fresh as ever. Thomas had assured her this morning that he still hadn’t needed to give the flowers any water.
Truly amazing.
Thomas must have sensed her watching him, as he turned and gazed at her. Jenny waved and blew him a kiss. Thomas stood there for a long moment and then throwing caution to the wind, he brought both of his hands to his mouth, touched his finger tips to his lips and then thrust them out towards her.
“God bless you, Miss Jenny! I shall miss you dearly,” he shouted across the grounds.
Jenny smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you, Thomas! I shall miss you too!”
“Oh Miss Jenny, there is one more thing.” Thomas dropped the roll of sod he was about to pick up and hurried towards Jenny.
“There is one thing that has always bothered me from the first day you came to Greystone Manor.”
Jenny studied the concerned gardener and tilted her head slightly as a sign for him to continue.
“Do you recall that first morning when we met right here and discussed your plans for the improvement of the garden.”
“Yes I do!” replied Jenny excitedly, “You told me how you were going to plant milkweed plants strategically throughout the garden, most of all around the gazebo so that wherever I looked I would see the abundance of beautiful colour and life.”
“Yes, Miss Jenny, that is exactly correct. I have played that conversation many times over in my mind…and if you recall I also said that butterflies would abound and it will seem as if you were surrounded by angels.”
“Oh Thomas, you did all that and more. Most days I felt as if I were in paradise!” Jenny stopped talking trying to ascertain why Thomas was concerned. Her forehead wrinkled slightly with a puzzled gaze.
“It’s what you said next that has always weighed heavy on my heart. You asked me if I liked butterflies and angels. I told you that I did believe in angels and that we all have a guardian and that I say a prayer to mine every day since I was a child.”
“Yes, yes, Thomas I remember that too and I asked you to say your prayer.”
Thomas’s eyes reddened, “I was too shy to say my prayer in front of you and you took the lead and said yours…it was the very same one I said.”
“Jenny took Thomas’s hand. So what is troubling you Thomas? The prayer was the same as yours?”
“Since the day you arrived on the estate you have always shown us to stand up for what you believe and to be true to yourself and that morning I was afraid or too shy to say the prayer in front of you but…I would like to now if I may, Miss Jenny?”
“Oh, Thomas, that would be wonderful.” Jenny took both of Thomas’s hands into hers and said, “May I say it with you?”
Thomas simply nodded and then the two of them with butterflies seemingly to come from everywhere in the garden flitted about Jenny and her dearly beloved gardener as they said the Guardian Angel Prayer:
Angel of God my guardian dear,
To whom God’s love commits me here
Ever this day be at my side,
To light and guard, to rule and guide.
Amen
Jenny let go of Thomas hands and pecked him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Ma’am, and may angel blessings be always with you!” Thomas softly whispered, and then turned and strode down the walkway.
What better way to leave this lovely estate than with such a blessed farewell.
Jenny stepped back into the kitchen doorway reluctant to close the patio door. Slowly she slid the heavy door shut and locked it, her tear-filled eyes reflected in the glass. Despite the hardship of her marriage, the home gave her many happy moments with the staff and J.J..
She turned and made her way into the huge kitchen, back-lit by the sun streaming in the patio door behind her. There were at least a dozen plants she had put on the window ledges over the years to bring some of the nature outside, indoors. She was going to take them, but it would pain her far too much to leave this house with the only other living things in the home. The house would be too dead without them.
As perturbed as she was with James, she pitied him and felt compassion over the utter bondage he was held in with his money and his company. It was his life and unfortunately her son was following in his footsteps. Hopefully, the plants and the life they contained might instill in both of them some sense of the spiritual sustenance derived only from the simple pleasures of life; the beauty of the flowers, nature, the garden, but would they see it? There seemed to be no time in their lives to smell the roses.
Jenny retraced her steps through the various rooms then out to the front door. She thought for sure this would b
e her final good-bye, but since James had agreed to let her have the furniture, she would have to come back in the morning to meet the moving company and direct them what to take.
Jenny took another look at the home she had lived in for 21 years.
“C’est la vie,” she muttered under her breath, as she opened the front door resisting the temptation to slam it. She was too dignified, too self-respecting to react that way. Rather, she walked out, greeted by the glorious sunshine, her head held high, and very quietly, closed the door behind her.
Chapter Fourteen
Henry parked on 11th Avenue and scooted around the vehicle to the passenger side. He opened the door and held Ivania’s hand as she got out of the SUV and stepped onto the street.
“Thank you, Hen-dry.”
They were taking in a play at the Globe Theatre, but first decided to enjoy a pasta dinner at Alfredo’s. The café was right next to the theatre so it was sort of a one-stop evening of entertainment. After the new city hall was built, the old one became the home for the Globe Theatre situated on the second floor. The main floor had been turned into a small mall consisting of several shops.
As Henry and Ivania walked through the mall on their way to the restaurant, a shadow suddenly streaked in front of Henry catching his attention. He followed it to a window display and was shocked to see Julean’s spirit standing beside a roll top desk in the window of an antique shop. He stopped abruptly, jerking Ivania to a halt as well.
“What is it, Hen-dry?”
He led Ivania over to the window, his eyes growing wide. Julean had disappeared however his eyes now studied the piece of furniture in front of him.
“That’s some desk Ivania, I’ve always wanted one like that for my den at home on the farm.” Henry checked the time on his wrist watch, “I think we have time, do you mind if we go inside and check it out?”
The Angelic Occurrence Page 16