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Trouble Don’t Last Always

Page 6

by Francis Ray


  Jonathan sighed, withdrawing his hands from his pockets. “I have no idea.”

  Her mouth gaped.

  “All I know is that neither Adam nor his mother or sister can go on this way,” Jonathan said tightly. “Those of us who love him just have to be there for him until he can remember the man he was, and pray that his blindness isn’t permanent. It won’t be easy for any of us, especially Adam.”

  “He scares me,” she said honestly. “I’m afraid I’ll do or say the wrong thing and upset him again.”

  “We all are. We’re all groping our way through this. We need your help, Ms. Crawford. Please stay,” he asked quietly.

  There was something else she needed to know. “You plan to do a reference check on me?”

  “I have no choice.”

  “But I just told you I never worked outside the house.”

  “Then we’ll check character references.”

  “You can’t do that. If ...” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

  “ ‘If’ what? Are you hiding from someone?” Suspicion entered his eyes and voice.

  “No,” she quickly said, trying with all her might not to look away from Dr. Delacroix’s probing stare. “I’m just a private person. I don’t like people probing into my life.”

  “If you want the job, I’ll have to.” His words left no room for discussion.

  Lilly hugged her handbag tighter to her chest. His proposition would solve her immediate problems, but his investigation could also lead Myron to her.

  Her stomach churning, she glanced at her car down the road. Every possession she owned, which wasn’t much by anyone’s standards, was inside. Although no smoke plumes spiraled from the hood, Lord only knew how much the repairs would cost. Repairs she didn’t have the money to pay for. She didn’t even know where she’d sleep that night.

  She turned to Dr. Delacroix and despite the erratic beating of her heart heard herself say, “I give you my word that I’ll work hard and do my best to care for Dr. Wakefield.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not good enough.”

  “Then good-bye.” Turning away, she started toward her car.

  Chapter Four

  “Didn’t you find her?”

  “I found her,” Jonathan answered. He’d dreaded this moment since Lilly had turned her back on him.

  “Then where is she?” Eleanor asked, peering around his broad shoulders as if Lilly Crawford might appear.

  “I need a drink first.” Stepping past an anxious Eleanor onto the marble tile in the foyer, Jonathan headed for the kitchen.

  The room was large and airy, with sleek stainless-steel appliances, copper cookware, granite countertops, and white glass-fronted cabinets. Adam couldn’t cook worth a damn, but he loved good food and, with the limited number of times he had to enjoy a meal without interruption, wanted the best.

  Opening the cabinet, Jonathan couldn’t help but remember Adam inspecting every nook and cranny of what he called his investment/retirement house. They’d been like two school kids, nudging each other every chance they got because the realtor couldn’t hide the shock from her face that a black man who wasn’t an athlete or musician or selling drugs had enough money to pay cash for the $3 million estate if he wanted to.

  “Jonathan,” Eleanor said in a voice that would not be denied any longer.

  “The last time I saw Ms. Crawford she was sitting in her car.” Jonathan jerked the slender glass from the shelf. Since he was on call tonight lemonade would have to do instead of the Jack Daniel’s he wanted. As far back as he could remember, Eleanor always kept a pitcher of lemonade in the refrigerator in warm weather.

  “Why didn’t she come back?” Eleanor asked, stepping in front of the refrigerator door Jonathan opened.

  Jonathan hated defeat of any kind. He hated worse to see the disappointment in Eleanor’s face. He still found it difficult to believe that Lilly Crawford had turned him down. Not many had. “She didn’t want me to run a character reference on her.”

  “I knew it,” Nicole said triumphantly, leaning against the island counter-top, her hair as shiny and bright as the copper pots overhead.

  Eleanor’s gaze remained on Jonathan. “Did she say why?”

  “Just that she was a private person and didn’t like people probing into her life.” Jonathan stared pointedly at Eleanor. “Do you mind?”

  Eleanor picked up the glass pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator. “What kind of car was she driving?”

  From another woman the question and the withholding of his drink might have seemed incongruent or rude, but he knew better. He’d burned enough midnight oil in med school with Eleanor to know she had a sharp, analytical mind. She had been at the top of her class when she traded a promising career in medicine for marriage. He didn’t think she’d regretted her decision for an instant in the years since. Eleanor had always known what she wanted. Now, she wanted what was best for her son and the answers as to why he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

  Jonathan sighed as he pictured the vehicle and a rumpled Lilly Crawford sitting inside as he had made a point of letting her see him turning around in front of her car. He’d hoped she’d try to stop him. She’d stared straight ahead, sipping clear liquid from a glass jar. “Twelve-year-old Ford, dented, rust spots.”

  “Then, it would appear that she could use the thousand dollars a week I offered.”

  “What!” he shouted. “Are you crazy?”

  Eleanor sent him a look that had him blushing like an errant child. “Sorry.”

  The slight upward curve of her lips forgave him. “A thousand dollars, yet she chose to stay in a broken-down car on the side of the road,” Eleanor said, her face thoughtful.

  “I wouldn’t want to do that,” Kristen said, her hands jammed in the pockets of her black gabardine pants.

  Eleanor glanced at her daughter. “Nor would most people…unless the alternative was worse.”

  “Now, wait a minute, Eleanor. You can’t possibly think of hiring her without checking on her.” Forgetting how thirsty he was, Jonathan lowered his glass.

  “Adam wants her, Jonathan,” Eleanor said.

  The answer was so simple yet so complex. A mother’s love always was. No matter how many times he witnessed it in his practice, it never ceased to amaze him. Perhaps because his mother had been more concerned with the success of her restaurant than her son.

  To Eleanor, her family always came first. She was hurting. She couldn’t give her child what he needed, so she’d give him what he wanted.

  Eleanor loved unconditionally. Jonathan wanted to take her in his arms and remove the burden from her heart and shoulders. The only reason he didn’t was that this time he didn’t know if it would be more than friendship.

  “He’d take anyone to get us to leave,” Nicole said in the ensuing silence, coming to stand by them. “You can’t hire her. She might be a criminal.”

  “Do you think she’s a criminal or dangerous, Jonathan?” Eleanor asked, taking the glass from his hand and at last pouring the lemonade. Her hand was as steady as the eyes she lifted to his when she finished.

  Instead of looking at Eleanor, he studied the cold beads of perspiration forming on the glass. His thoughts returned to Lilly Crawford. She had to be just as hot as he, hotter because she had walked to her car and she didn’t have the luxury of air-conditioning. Yet she had turned him down. Stubborn, yes. Frightened, possibly, but dangerous or a criminal…“No, I don’t think she is,” he finally answered.

  “Neither do I.” Eleanor returned the pitcher to the refrigerator. “Now, do I go get her or will you?”

  “I’ll go.” Jonathan drained the glass in one gulp and handed it to Eleanor. “You’re as stubborn as Adam.”

  “Where do you think he got it from?” Eleanor said, but her voice trembled. “He’ll come through this,” Jonathan said, then left.

  Nicole glanced from Jonathan’s retreating back, to Eleanor. “Mrs. Wake—”

  �
��Please, Nicole,” Mrs. Wakefield said, holding up her manicured hand. “I know you mean well, but my mind is made up on this matter.”

  “You want to trust her because she offered you a ride?” Nicole shook her head in a mixture of disbelief and disgust.

  “Initially, yes, but I saw the regret in her face when she came out of Adam’s room.” Eleanor’s arm swept the immaculate kitchen that would make any cook or thief rub her greedy hands together in anticipatory pleasure before finally stopping at the mint-condition hundred-year-old oak pedestal table and four ladder-back chairs in the breakfast nook. “You said it yourself. What person looking for a job, but especially a thief, would pass up a chance to stay here?”

  Nicole’s lush mouth tightened. “I don’t like it.”

  “I understand that and appreciate your concern. Both Jonathan and I agree that she’s not dangerous. If she’s a thief, as you suspect, she can’t run off without transportation. In the week it takes to earn her first paycheck, I would have had time to be around her more, and if I get any indication that I’m wrong and that she poses the slightest threat to Adam, I’ll take immediate measures to get rid of her,” Eleanor finished, a hint of steel in her voice.

  The frown on Nicole’s face shifted into the smile that invariably turned heads wherever she went. “Adam always said you were a lioness where your children were concerned.”

  “My children are all I have.”

  “I’d say you were both fortunate,” Nicole told her, her voice wistful.

  “Adam is lucky to have you,” Eleanor said, meaning it. Love and family were worth any sacrifice. “Now, come on and let’s get Ms. Crawford’s room ready.”

  The three women were waiting on the front porch when Jonathan pulled up in the Mercedes. Mrs. Wakefield came down the four wooden steps, followed by Kristen and Nicole.

  “Thank you, Ms. Crawford, for coming back to care for Adam. Your room is ready.”

  Nerves still jumpy, Lilly nodded. She couldn’t believe it when Dr. Delacroix came back and offered her the job. She’d been suspicious at first, but as he had told her, with just her name he didn’t have any means of checking on her. They’d waited for the tow truck in silence. Only when her car was hauled away did panic strike.

  Dr. Delacroix must have seen it, because he’d said, “If you are telling the truth, you have nothing to be afraid of. If not ...”

  He hadn’t finished; he hadn’t needed to. Silently she had gotten into his car. Now, she was walking up the curved staircase again. She could only hope this time the outcome would be different.

  “I put you in the room next to Adam.” Opening the door, Mrs. Wakefield stepped aside and motioned Lilly to enter.

  Beautiful. That was the only word she could think of to describe the bright room. The floral print pillows on the large bed matched the ties in the curtains. The room was almost as spacious as her entire house. “This is my room?” she asked in stunned amazement.

  “Yes.” Mrs. Wakefield walked around Lilly and opened another door on the far side of the room. “This is the dressing room and bath. You should be very comfortable here. The house staff, Samuel and Odette, take care of the general housekeeping and will be back early Monday morning.” She returned to Lilly. “Later I’ll show you the cottage where I’m staying, but under no circumstances is Adam to know I’m there.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she answered, glancing around the room again. She’d never seen so much luxury in one place. “Dr. Delacroix explained everything to me.”

  “Then we’ll go say our good-byes to Adam and leave,” Mrs. Wakefield said, then stopped at the door. “I think you should come also.”

  “Don’t you want to be alone?” Lilly asked, trying not to show her nervousness.

  “It will be less stressful on all of us if we get everything settled at once.”

  Without waiting, she left. Kristen immediately followed, as did Jonathan. Nicole stayed, her hazel eyes narrowed on Lilly as if she were back to studying slime that had crawled out of a swamp on its belly.

  “If you do anything to harm Adam or his mother, I’ll see that you pay for it the rest of your life,” Nicole warned coldly.

  “I’m not a criminal. I just want a job,” Lilly said, barely resisting the temptation to back away from the animosity in the other woman’s face.

  Kristen reappeared in the doorway. “We’re waiting.”

  With one last meaningful glare, Nicole walked out the door. Wondering why the other woman disliked her so intensely, Lilly slowly followed.

  Mrs. Wakefield waited until they were all gathered, then knocked softly on the door. “Adam, Ms. Crawford is here as you requested. We’ve come to say good-bye, Adam.”

  Kristen sniffed. “I don’t want to leave him.”

  Eleanor sent her daughter a small smile of support. “I know, but it has to be done.”

  There was a thump, quickly followed by a curse. Nicole reached for the brass doorknob. Eleanor stuck her arm out in front of the other woman. “He wouldn’t want us to see him.”

  Long seconds passed before the door cracked open. Adam, aviator shades firmly in place, stood in the narrow space no wider than the span of his hand. “Have a safe trip home.”

  “We will.” Eleanor’s voice trembled. “I don’t suppose you’ll change your mind and allow me to stay.”

  “This is best.”

  “All right, then give me my good-bye kiss.”

  Adam tensed, but he didn’t move away as Eleanor slowly pushed the door wider, then palmed one of her son’s unshaven cheeks and kissed the other. “I love you. Always remember that.”

  Stepping back, she shoved her knuckled fist into her mouth. Jonathan’s arms curved around her. She leaned into his wide chest.

  “I’d rather be here with you than studying for finals.” Kristen took Eleanor’s place and rested her trembling hand on her brother’s chest. His hand lifted to briefly clasp hers, then returned to his side.

  “You’ll ace them as usual. I hate you didn’t get a chance to work on your honors thesis. I know how important it is for you.”

  She swallowed before speaking. “There’s still time. I love you.”

  “Take care, Sis.” He stepped back and started to close the door.

  “Adam, wait!” Nicole cried, rushing to him. He turned his head around just as she lifted hers to his face. Instead of their lips meeting, the top of his head butted into her chin.

  “Ooohhh,” Nicole cried, slapping both hands over her mouth.

  Adam froze. “What happened?” Silence reigned. “Dammit, what did I do?”

  “It’s nothing, Adam,” Nicole said, her husky voice sounding strange and muffled with Jonathan’s handkerchief pressed to her bleeding lower lip.

  “Don’t treat me like an idiot. I know I did something.”

  Everyone looked at one another, then away. No one spoke.

  Stepping back, Adam slammed the door.

  Nicole jumped. Tears glistening in her eyes, she stared at the closed door a long heartbreaking moment, then spun on her heels and ran back down the hall.

  It was a good thing Nicole left when she did, Lilly thought, knowing the retreating woman couldn’t hear the crash against the wall.

  Eleanor Wakefield couldn’t sleep. How could she when her children were in so much pain?

  With her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, she stared at the light in the third window at the back of the house. Adam’s room. He had insisted from the first that the light be kept on. He wanted to be able to see if his sight returned. Eleanor knew the last thing he did before going to sleep and the first thing he did on awakening was hold his hand in front of his eyes. The ritual was a daily torment he put himself through.

  If she could, she’d gladly trade places with him. The choice hadn’t been hers to make. Head falling forward on her delicate neck, Eleanor pondered the problem that was never far from her mind: was waiting for the hemorrhage to dissolve the right course of action? If they waited too long, the hem
orrhage in the back of the eyes could cause permanent retinal detachment and blindness. If they operated now, they might damage the optic nerve and, again, cause permanent blindness. Until a short time ago hemorrhages were removed within two to three weeks, but recent studies had shown that waiting was the wisest and safest course of action.

  What to do? Alex and his doctors had chosen to wait, but at what price to her son?

  Forcing herself to leave the window, she took a seat on the camelback sofa in the room she had lovingly decorated at Adam’s insistence. He’d said the four-room cottage in back of the main house was to be her retreat, a place to do the painting she never seemed to have enough time to do. He’d surprised her on her first visit to Wakefield Manor. She could still see that quick smile of his, the twinkle in his onyx-colored eyes, when he opened the door where a decorator waited.

  Adam was the kind of son any parent would be proud of.

  Too restless to sit, Eleanor bounded up once again and found herself staring at the back of the house. Light now shone from the window next to Alex’s. Lilly Crawford.

  Eleanor hoped in this at least she had made the right decision. At the time there hadn’t been much choice. As much as it hurt her, she had to come to terms with the fact that instead of her presence comforting her son, it had the opposite effect.

  Adam had always been the strong one, the dependable one. Like most young men growing up, he had tested the rules and boundaries, but that was as it should be. He had a good head on his shoulders his father had said. How she wished her husband were still with her to lean on, to guide her.

  Randolph Wakefield had been a kind, loving father and husband. Losing him so suddenly five years ago had devastated them all. Now this. If Adam’s blindness weren’t horrendous enough, the aftermath was tearing their once-close family apart, and she had absolutely no idea how to make it better.

  This wasn’t drinking or drugs or the influence of unsavory people you could discuss with reason. This was something far more insidious and destructive. She didn’t know how to fight, only that she must. Not just for Adam’s sake, but for Kristen’s.

 

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