Trouble Don’t Last Always

by Francis Ray

  Picking up the carafe, she poured coffee into a mug and sipped. In college she had quickly learned to take her coffee black and strong. Sugar and cream diluted the caffeine kick she needed to stay awake and alert to study.

  Of its own volition, her mind returned to Jonathan. She’d met him her first year in med school. He’d never been dismissive of her as a woman studying to be a doctor, as some of the other male students had been. He’d been fun-loving, the complete opposite of serious Randolph.

  Her coffee forgotten, Eleanor stared out the window. She hadn’t a choice when Randolph was taken away from her. She had with Jonathan, and she couldn’t help wondering if she had made the right decision.

  She missed Jonathan’s calming presence, his ability to make her laugh and not take herself too seriously. At any other time, she’d be on the phone telling him about Adam’s call, sharing her happiness with him. She’d never realized how much he’d insinuated himself in her life, how much she looked forward to sharing with him, being with him.

  But Sunday had changed things somehow. Until she was sure of how to handle the subtle shift in their friendship, she wasn’t going to see him.

  Of course he’d called, but she’d always told him she was too busy to talk. Taking the coffee with her into the living room, she looked around the beau-tiful, immaculate room. She’s never been less busy in her life. In San Francisco she had a full calendar. Here she moped and worried.

  Not anymore. Returning to the kitchen, she poured out her coffee and rinsed the cup. She should be celebrating, not moping in the cottage. And that was exactly what she was going to do.

  Chapter Nine

  Adam’s progress was slow. More than one curse word had slipped past his lips as he’d unpacked the box of shirts. How could one man have this many clothes? he asked himself, then grimaced.

  If he recalled correctly, he had four closets full. He liked to look nice and had always had the money to buy what he wanted.

  A knock sounded on his door. He recognized it as Lilly’s. He picked up another shirt before answering, “Come in.” He didn’t know why, only that it was important that she was aware that he didn’t need help.

  “A ham-and-cheese omelet at twelve, hash browns at six.” The tray rattled slightly as she set it on the table. “You’re doing a good job of unpacking.”

  Somehow her words bothered him. “You didn’t think I could?”

  “What I thought was that rich people didn’t do much of that sort of thing.” Her voice and the faint hint of roses moved closer, then away. “When you’re finished, ring downstairs and I’ll remove the boxes.”

  Adam listened to the door closing, then moved the empty box out of the way. He reached into the second box, picked up a pair of what felt like khaki pants, and put them into the fourth drawer with a growing sense of accomplishment. Lilly hadn’t tried to help or pat him on the head for completing a task a four-year-old could do. Instead, she’d acted as if she’d expected him to unpack by himself. And that was exactly what he was going to do.

  Downstairs Lilly entered an empty kitchen. She didn’t discover the reason until she looked out the window. Odette and Eleanor sat on the same stone bench Lilly favored, the bushel of purple hull peas Odette had brought that morning between them. Grabbing a bowl from beneath the cabinet, Lilly went to join them.

  Mrs. Wakefield glanced up as soon as Lilly stepped out of the house. “Good morning, Lilly. How’s Adam?”

  Lilly didn’t have to look at Odette to know she was waiting for the answer almost as much. It hadn’t taken Lilly long to learn the jovial housekeeper was a worrier and protective of those she cared about. Dr. Wakefield was counted in that number. “He was almost finished unpacking the box of shirts.”

  “You don’t think he needs help?” Eleanor asked, tiny lines radiating across her forehead.

  Lilly was sure Odette was the cause of Eleanor’s concern. “I don’t think a man of Dr. Wakefield’s intelligence needs help in unpacking a box.”

  “But he’s blind,” Odette blurted, then flickered a worried glance at Mrs. Wakefield.

  To Eleanor’s credit, she didn’t flinch at the blunt statement. She simply waited for Lilly’s reply.

  “Being blind doesn’t make him helpless or suddenly less intelligent,” Lilly said gently, grateful for the literature Harriet had left for her to read. “More important, he hates being treated as if he were.”

  “Lilly’s right.” Eleanor picked up another pea pod and snapped the top. “Even as a child, Adam was self-sufficient and detested me helping him dress or tie his shoes. He’s probably hated me hovering.”

  “He knows you love him,” Lilly told her.

  “Yes, he said so a little while ago when he called. I have you to thank for that.” Eleanor’s smile was warm. “He should have been thanking you for the clothes and table.”

  Lilly shook her head. “He was ready to toss the table back until I said you’d sent it.”

  “He was a willful child.”

  “Who grew into a willful adult,” Lilly said. The older women laughed and Lilly with them. Then she plucked a handful of peas from the bushel basket and sank gracefully to the ground.

  Watching her, Odette shook her head. “If I got down there you’d never get me back up.”

  Lilly smiled and crossed her legs beneath the full hem of her skirt. “It remains to be seen if I need help.”

  “You won’t,” Odette said with a shake of her head. “I’ve seen you go up and down those stairs enough to know. The extra cleaning women I hire dread those stairs.”

  “I don’t.” Lilly shelled a pod and reached for another. “They add to the beauty and charm of this place. It wouldn’t be the same otherwise.”

  “You see the beauty; others see the work. Samuel and I have been here for over thirty years. Dr. Wakefield is the third owner.” She paused, a pod in her hand. “When the previous owner’s wife heard he was being transferred and they had to move, she cried for a week. Samuel and I were a bit worried that the new owner might not want to keep us. You could have knocked me over with a feather when Dr. Wakefield and Dr. Delacroix showed up.”

  Eleanor’s hands stilled. “Adam and Jonathan were out for a drive when he saw the FOR SALE sign in the front yard. Adam immediately decided he wanted the house. He calls it his investment/retirement house.” Pain flickered in her amber-colored eyes. “Now it’s his refuge.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a refuge.” Lilly glanced around the immaculate grounds. “Most people want a place to go during bad times. I can’t imagine one more perfect than this.”

  “But a refuge can become a cage. I don’t want that for Adam,” Eleanor said, her lips compressed tightly together.

  “It won’t. You said yourself that he called this morning. Has he done that before?”

  “No,” she admitted quietly.

  Lilly nodded her satisfaction. “He’s slowly getting there. You just have to keep believing and have faith.”

  “I know. It’s just ...” Eleanor’s eyes misted.

  Leaning over, Lilly placed her hand gently on top of the other woman’s. “Walking by faith is never easy. Especially when it’s being tested day after day. All I can say is that giving up is not the answer.” With all the upheaval in her life, that was the one truth Lilly was sure of.

  Eleanor’s lips gently curved upward. “I’m glad your car broke down.”

  “I never thought I’d say so, but so am I.”

  “What’s this about your car breaking down?” Odette wanted to know.

  Lilly told her the entire story and, although Eleanor hadn’t asked, told about the recent death of her “mother,” as Lilly affectionately called Mother Crawford because that was the name she had grown up hearing. She finished by telling them of her intention of driving to New Orleans to start a new life.

  “You got any more family?” Odette asked.

  Lily thought briefly of her stepson, Rafe, then shook her head. He had been more like a little br
other than a son. “No. I’m all alone.”

  “Not anymore,” Odette said firmly.

  Lilly hadn’t expected to feel the warmth the housekeeper’s words gave her or the sudden stinging in her throat. “Thank you, Odette.”

  “Did you give Adam the tapes yet?” Eleanor wanted to know.

  “No. I can’t think of a way to get him to listen to them. As sure as I’m sitting here, if I just gave them to him he’d stick them in the closet and not listen to them, although I know he has to be bored in that room all day.”

  Odette’s hands paused over the half-filled bowl of peas. “He never slept past eight, and after breakfast he’d be out with Samuel in the yard, on that computer, or doing something else. He never stayed in his room.”

  “He had two offices, one in San Francisco and one in Sausalito near his home. He was always on the go.”

  The three women paused and pondered.

  “You ladies sure look nice resting there. Morning, Miss Lilly, Mrs. Wake-field. Wish I could just sit around under a big tree and rest all day.” Tipping his hat, Samuel smiled broadly and walked past them and entered the kitchen’s back door.

  “Men,” all three women said simultaneously, then laughed out loud.

  “But Lord, what would we do without them?” Odette asked.

  “We wouldn’t have to cook and clean, that’s for sure,” Lilly responded.

  “But we also wouldn’t have the love and companionship,” Eleanor pointed out.

  “Amen,” Odette said.

  Lilly remained quiet, then became aware that the two women were staring at her. She searched her mind for anything to say and could think of nothing good to say about men.

  The back kitchen door opened and Samuel came out with a red thermos in his hand. “Don’t either of you try to bring those empty boxes back downstairs. I’ll get them when I come back.”

  Odette harrumphed. “That man thinks I’m helpless.”

  “Jonathan is the same way,” Eleanor said; then she and Odette looked at each other and grinned. Eleanor turned to Lilly. “I think Samuel just helped solve your problem.”

  Pride was an awesome thing. It could defeat, challenge, inspire. At the moment Adam freely admitted that while unpacking the three boxes he had experienced all three emotions.

  With a last, final pat against the suits hanging in his closet, he closed the door. Trying to get the three suits on hangers had nudged him close to defeat. Finally he had sat on the floor. Getting the crease straight and aligned in the pants had been long and tedious but satisfying.

  He’d unpacked all three boxes by himself. He wasn’t helpless.

  Turning, he went to his chair and sat down in front of his tray on the table. The omelet was stone cold. So was the rest of his food.

  He’d spent enough nights in hospitals to have more than a nodding acquaintance with cold food; that’s why he detested it so much and enjoyed his food at the correct temperature and well prepared.

  He leaned back against the chair. Of course, he could always call the kitchen. If Lilly wasn’t there, Odette probably was. A smile touched his face. She was probably busy cooking his cobbler. The smile vanished. He wished he’d told her he wanted it for lunch.

  He straightened at the knock on his door. Lilly.

  Rising, he stepped around the table and went to answer the door. “My breakfast is cold.”

  “I can take care of that if you can help me with this.”

  “What?”

  “The battery won’t snap in my tape recorder. I could go back down and see if Odette could help, if you’re busy.”

  His hand flexed on the door. Sometimes he wondered about the woman. What the hell did she expect him to do?

  “Here, I’ll show you.”

  Before he could protest, she lifted one of his hands and curled it around one end of the recorder. The other hand she placed on top, then slowly moved his fingers over a round, solid rise. The battery.

  “When I pop one in the other pops out. My finger is getting sore. I want to hear this book on tape while I clean up.”

  The pad of his thumb slowly raked over the battery.

  “You’re probably thinking I shouldn’t own this, either, since I can’t operate it, but I’m trying to learn. And before you ask about my car, it won’t be ready for another week. They had to order parts.”

  The relief he felt that she was staying was as disturbing as it was surprising. “What’s wrong with your car?”

  The sigh was long-suffering. Her warm breath gently brushed across his face. “I think it would be easier to tell you what’s right with it. An oil pump that has gone out is the major problem. At least at the moment.”

  “Are you sure? Some mechanics try to get over on women.”

  “Dr. Delacroix called them, so I guess I can trust them.”

  “Still, have Jonathan call the garage and speak to the mechanic for you.”

  “He doesn’t have time.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of arguing?” he snapped.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The tightness went out of his voice. “I didn’t mean to snap,” he told her, recalling the last incident when he’d upset her and she’d run away. “Let’s get this fixed. What kind of tape is—”

  “The killer was in the cave. Erin knew it just as surely as she knew she was next to die. The only question that remained was how long she had left to live.”

  “You fixed it!” Lilly cried.

  “It’s a book on tape?” Adam questioned.

  “Yes. I like listening to them sometimes, although I’m going to have to pass on this particular one. I thought the tape was straight fiction. Mystery is all right when I’m with someone; otherwise I’ll be looking over my shoulder and getting nothing done or up all night checking under the bed.”

  “That’s childish.”

  “All right, then you listen to it and, if you don’t get scared, I’ll bring you a bowl of peach cobbler as soon as it’s done.”

  Adam’s hands itched for the tape. Mysteries were his favorites. He enjoyed fpitting himself against the protagonist, trying to solve the crime first. Trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, he said, “Add a couple of scoops of vanilla ice cream and you have yourself a deal.”

  “Shake.” Lilly’s hand touched his. The handshake was brief.

  “I’ll go to my room and get the rest of the tapes. The recorder is one of those five-button, big old-fashioned ones. Button one is RECORD, two is REWIND, three FAST FORWARD, four PLAY, five STOP. Got it?”

  “Just bring the rest of the tapes,” he ordered.

  “Be right back.”

  While she was gone, he returned to the chair. He’d had an antique like this in high school. While taking some college courses his senior year and auditing others, he’d used the tape recorder extensively. It was better than taking notes and more reliable than asking for the notes of his classmates. His fingers felt the indentations in the buttons. He could do this.

  “Here are the rest of the tapes. I’m putting the case on your table. There are twelve in all. Thirteen hours and twenty-five minutes of nail-biting listening. Remember button two will rewind.”

  “I remember.”

  “I’ll be back with a hot breakfast. If you jump when I knock there’ll be no ice cream.” There was laughter in her voice. “I’m putting you on your honor.”

  He hit the REWIND button and heard the whir of the tape. “Just tell Odette to remember I like lots of crust.”

  “Like you said, I remember.”

  Adam didn’t flinch when Lilly brought him another breakfast tray. He did show his annoyance at the interruption and shushed her. Lilly barely kept from shuddering as the narrator gave the gruesome details of carnage left by the unseen forces of evil. Unfazed, Dr. Wakefield forked his waffle into his mouth.

  “Save room for cobbler,” she said and opened the door.

  “And the ice cream.”

  Lilly closed the door on a recorded scream
. She might not have been untruthful about her reaction to murder mysteries after all. Her hand on the railing, she went to the kitchen and straight to the upright freezer. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Dr. Wakefield would win the bet. She couldn’t be happier.

  However, a few minutes later she closed the stainless-steel door with a frown on her face. “There’s no ice cream.”

  Odette glanced up from rolling out the crust for the cobbler. “Like I told you, I’m a diabetic, and that’s the one food I can’t resist, so I don’t keep it anyplace I can be tempted.”

  Lilly walked over to her. “I promised Dr. Wakefield ice cream.”

  “I can send Samuel into town.” Odette laid down the rolling pin.

  “No, he was trying to finish cleaning out the azaleas beds. I’ll go see if Mrs. Wakefield can go.” Outside, Lilly quickly took the path to the cottage and knocked.

  Eleanor frowned on opening the door and seeing Lilly. “Lilly, what is it?”

  Lilly quickly explained the situation. “Samuel is cleaning out the azalea bed, and Dr. Wakefield is expecting his ice cream. I thought I’d ask you.”

  “Of course. Come on in; I’ll get my keys.” Eleanor returned shortly with her purse. “Is there anything else?”

  “There might be one thing. Has he always worn a beard?”

  “No, just since the accident. Why?”

  “He’s always scratching at it,” Lilly told her. “I think it bothers him. When I cleaned up his room, there was after-shave lotion, but no shaving equipment.”

  “I thought he had just decided not to bother with shaving. He always preferred a razor, but after his blindness he kept nicking himself. I seem to have missed something else.” Eleanor’s words were as forlorn as her face.

  “Because you’re too close to him. Everything is new to me, and I notice things you might not,” Lilly consoled her. “Dr. Wakefield certainly isn’t talkative about what he wants, except to be left alone.”

  “From what you’ve said, that has changed.”

  “Some, but he still has a long way to go.”