Trouble Don’t Last Always

by Francis Ray

  “What about your father?”

  “Left when I was a baby.”

  “That must have been hard,” he said, hearing the flat inflection of her voice. “My father was busy, but he was a big part of my life.”

  “Your mother told me he was a wonderful man.”

  “He was. He had a thriving practice, but he was there when it counted. My father, Jonathan, and Mother were in medical school together.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Top of her class until she decided to marry my father and drop out.”

  “She gave up her career for him?”

  He shook his head. “People used to say that all the time, but Mother always said she hadn’t given up anything, that she’d gained and she never regretted her decision for a moment.” His face saddened. “Losing him was hard on her.”

  “But she has you and your sister, and memories linger.”

  “Yes, they do.”

  Lilly realized that they were having a conversation like two normal people, not adversaries. “I was going to fix chicken salad for lunch. You want me to bring you a tray?”

  “Thanks, and while we eat you can tell me about what they did to your car.”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. “You want us to have lunch together?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “If I do, you aren’t going to be perturbed with me if I don’t know everything, are you?”

  Heavy eyebrows lifted over his shades. “I promise to try.”

  “Good enough.”

  Dr. Wakefield kept his word. They talked more than they ate. Lilly wasn’t sure if that was because he was still nervous about eating in front of people or because he simply wasn’t hungry. Having carried his usually empty plates back to the kitchen, she felt it was more of the former.

  Telling him she had to help Odette with supper and that she’d pick up his tray later, she left. She knew she had been right when she went back and only fragments of the potato chips and bits of bread remained.

  Lying in bed that night, she stared up at the ceiling of the moonlit room. Life was a mystery. You never knew if misery or happiness was waiting around the corner. You just had to be ready. She hadn’t been ready today when her lawyer called. She’d almost crumpled. Dr. Wakefield didn’t know it, but he had helped her not to. His intervention was all the more profound when she knew he was fighting his own misery, his own demons.

  She vowed again to help him fight and win his battle, if possible, just as he had helped her today.

  The day was beautiful. Blue skies stretched forever, swept by a gentle easterly wind. Lilly breathed in the fresh-scented air and stepped off the back porch. It was quiet and peaceful here and filled with a calm beauty.

  Immediately her thoughts went to Dr. Wakefield shut in his room. Not wanting a repeat of last week she hadn’t dared mention going out again. However, if he wouldn’t go out, she’d take the outside inside to him.

  Seeing Samuel pruning, she walked over to him. “Samuel, would it be all right if I cut some flowers for Dr. Wakefield’s room?”

  Stopping, he rubbed the sleeve of his long-sleeved shirt across his perspiration-dampened forehead. “Yes’m.”

  “Good. Which ones do you suggest?”

  “The roses, lilies, and tulips might make a nice arrangement.” He nodded toward the front of the property. “The doctor and I had talked about adding a couple more beds of flowers to the front yard. Maybe some hydrangeas or tulips in all colors of the rainbow in a winding trail along the fence line. Guess it’ll have to wait now.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s bl—” Samuel stopped himself and looked away.

  Lilly realized he hadn’t meant the words spitefully. Dr. Wakefield was more than an employer to Samuel. He was a respected friend. “I thought we agreed not to treat him any differently?” she said.

  “He can’t walk the grounds with me, tell me how wide or how far from the fence he wants the beds,” Samuel said logically.

  Before answering, Lilly glanced around the beautiful yard. It was the first week of May. Color was everywhere, drawing one’s eyes and soothing the senses. She couldn’t name all the flowers and trees, but some she knew: daffodils, pansies, geraniums, azaleas, dogwood, and redbud trees.

  “Odette says you’ve been here over thirty years. How much of this design is your idea?”

  “Most of it,” he said, then caught her meaning, already shaking his head. “But I never do anything without discussing it with the owner first.”

  “Has Dr. Wakefield ever not liked anything you suggested?”

  “No,” Samuel said slowly. “But there’s always a first time.”

  “Why don’t we go see?”

  Adam felt restless, bored, and trapped. He’d tried to listen to the new tape Lilly had given him that morning, but the dull monotone of the person reading the book almost made him want to commit murder. The baseball games also had ceased to amuse and entertain.

  “Dr. Wakefield.”

  Adam whirled from the balcony and started toward his door, unconsciously anticipating matching wits with Lilly. “What are you going to badger me about this time?”

  “We can come back,” Samuel said hesitantly.

  “Samuel?” Adam said, surprise in his voice. “I thought you were Lilly.”

  “I’m here,” she said. “I brought you a surprise and Samuel came along to talk with you.”

  He smelled the fragrance. “Flowers.”

  “Red and yellow roses, creamy magnolia and gardenia blossoms. Your room will smell wonderful,” she said, going past him. “I brought you two vases. One to go to the far right of your nightstand. The other in the middle of the vanity. Samuel, why don’t you tell Dr. Wakefield your ideas for the flower beds in the front?”

  “I, er ...” Samuel faltered.

  “Dr. Wakefield, Samuel said you had thought of increasing the beauty of Wakefield Manor with additional seasonal flower beds along the fence line,” Lilly intervened.

  Adam had wanted to develop a flower garden showcase similar to those he had seen in Europe, but that had been before his blindness. “That will have to wait.”

  “Yes, sir. Whenever you’re ready,” Samuel quickly said.

  “What did you want to plant?” Lilly asked, coming to stand by Adam.

  “Geraniums, irises, pansies, tulips, camellias.”

  “That’s what Samuel thought. How far back and how wide did you want the beds?” she questioned.

  Adam sighed impatiently and ran his hand over his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Would it be as far back at this room? Would the bed be as wide as yours?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure.” She was rapidly pushing him into snapping at her again.

  “Samuel, what do you think?” Lilly asked. “I’m sure Dr. Wakefield values your opinion.”

  “I’ve always been very pleased with Samuel’s work, unlike some people,” Adam said before Samuel could answer, hoping she’d get the point.

  “Thank you, Dr. Wakefield. Hearing you say that means a lot,” Samuel said.

  “I’m lucky to have you,” Adam said, meaning it. He never had to worry about Wakefield Manor or unnecessary withdrawals against the household account.

  Encouraged, Samuel said, “Maybe the beds in the front could be a couple hundred feet back, twice the length of the hall, and half as wide as that wide bed you sleep in. I could border everything with monkey grass if we just did the tulips. The camellias as a backdrop for daffodils, snapdragons, and begonias for March and April. Then in the summer I could switch to begonias, impatiens, and snapdragons.”

  “That sounds beautiful,” Lilly said.

  Adam thought so, too, but he’d planned on having an active part in the planning of the garden. Even with Samuel’s helpful hints, he couldn’t judge distance. He wanted to “see” the placement. “It’ll wait for a few months.”

  “Yes, sir.” The disappointment in the elderly man’s voice was ev
ident.

  “Thanks for coming up,” Adam told him.

  “No bother. I was just trying to tame those red-tipped photenias on the east side of the yard,” the gardener said. “They’re over six feet and blooming. We had a mild winter and the yard did well.”

  “Samuel, why don’t you write down what you plan and we’ll discuss it?” Adam offered, suddenly anxious to make amends for his earlier abruptness.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”

  “In the meantime, have you given any thought to taming the acres at the back of the house?” Adam asked, wanting to give the man something.

  “I have. It’ll be kinda like little clearings of flowers so you never know what you’re gonna find, short mixed with tall plants and flowers. There’ll be paths wide enough for two people, so you could walk and enjoy them. No sense having flowers if you can’t enjoy them,” Samuel mused. “Be nice to bunch delphiniums, roses, daylilies, and variegated irises in long, curved borders. It’ll take muscles, time, and money, but it’ll be worth it.”

  Thoughtfully Adam rubbed his chin. “An iris-lined pond in a quiet nook with a series of waterfalls would add serenity to the gardens.”

  “Yes, sir, it would.” Samuel’s voice sounded eager already.

  “Then get started right away. By this time next year I’ll be able to see what progress you’ve made.”

  Samuel waited a second too long before he replied, “Yes, sir.” Lilly knew it the instant she saw the harshness in Adam’s face replace the speculation.

  Outside the door, she and Samuel were quiet as they walked a few feet down the hall. “I’m sorry. I thought taking an interest in what was going on around the house would be good for him.”

  “Not your fault. It was mine.” Samuel gripped his straw hat in his hands. “He kinda threw me off when he said he’d see the gardens. Mrs. Wakefield said the doctors weren’t sure.”

  “He hasn’t given up hope.”

  “A man’s gotta have hope, Miss Lilly.” Nodding, he went down the hallway.

  Sighing, Lilly went to Dr. Wakefield’s room and knocked.

  “What is it now, Lilly?”

  She opened the door. He stood in the exact place they had left him, his chin thrust forward belligerently, his shoulders thrown back. He was freshly shaven, wearing a melon-colored Polo shirt and stonewashed jeans. He looked fit and handsome. “You could always come outside and walk the grounds.”

  His lips tightened. “A waste of Samuel’s time and mine.”

  “He doesn’t mind.”

  “I do.”

  The last days had been calm. She’d almost forgotten how temperamental Dr. Wakefield could be. But at least she now realized he would never harm her. She walked to him, close enough to see her reflection in his shades when he turned toward her. “You enjoying the new tapes?”

  “Not especially.”

  “Why?” she asked, trying to figure out where this particular mood had come from.

  “The woman’s voice is irritating.”

  Glancing around for the tape recorder, Lilly walked over and hit the PLAY button. In seconds she understood and hit STOP. “I bet Edgar Gunn wanted to commit murder,” she said, referring to the author.

  Adam’s lips twitched.

  Seeing it, she came to a quick decision. “I was planning on going into town this afternoon. Why don’t I pick up the book and read it to you?”

  He shrugged. “You couldn’t do any worse.”

  “Dr. Wakefield, you are too kind.”

  What had seemed like a good idea to Lilly hours earlier no longer seemed that way.

  “Are you going to read or stand there?” Adam asked sharply.

  “In biblical times, didn’t royalty throw people who didn’t please them to the lions?” she asked, only half-teasing.

  Adam’s mouth twitched. “The only lions around here are the stone ones by the pool.”

  “I guess I’m safe then.” Picking up a footstool that had been pushed against the wall, she placed it near Adam’s feet, sat down in front of his chair, and opened the book. “Do you want me to start at the beginning?”

  He frowned. “You’re on the floor?”

  “Footstool. I’ll put it back,” she quickly told him. “Mother Crawford always liked me to sit close so she could catch the words faster.”

  “Interesting way of phrasing.” Folding his arms, he leaned back in his chair. “All right, scare me.”

  She did, using the inflections of her voice to show the different characters and the terror. She might have read longer, but she yawned.

  “What time it is?” Adam asked.

  “Twelve-thirty,” Lilly answered around another yawn.

  “Go to bed,” Adam instructed. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

  Fighting another yawn, Lilly replaced the footstool. “Good night, Dr. Wakefield.”

  “Will you be able to sleep?” he asked.

  “If you hear footsteps thundering down the hall coming this way, it will be me,” she told him with a laugh.

  “Maybe you should read Silent Prey after lunch?” he suggested.

  “I don’t mind an hour after lunch, but mystery stories are best just before bed.” She opened the door.

  “Leave it ajar if you want.”

  The offer surprised and delighted her. “I think I will. No sense being like Julia in Silent Prey and fumbling with a doorknob while the killer is coming.”

  “You’re scaring yourself.”

  “It’s all right this time.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have you to protect me,” she answered simply and left.

  Adam sat in his chair, thinking of what Lilly had said and totally unaware of the pleased expression on his face.

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite reading Silent Prey, Lilly had no difficulty sleeping that night or the next. She began to look forward to the times she and Adam had together after lunch and at night before bed. From his reaction, he enjoyed their times together as well. In a week, she had finished one book and started on The Being.

  Samuel interrupted one afternoon a week later. His hat in his hand, he came in and perched on the edge of an armchair. “I drew up the plans for the back, and I thought you might like to hear them. But if you don’t mind, I’d just like to wait until next summer and you can walk the grounds with me. There’s a couple of places that the lily pond might go, but I wanna be sure. Is it all right to wait?”

  “Next summer would be fine,” Adam said flatly.

  Samuel pushed to his feet. “I better get back to work.”

  “He’s a good man,” Lilly commented after the gardener had gone.

  “Did you put him up to this?” Adam asked, his voice like chips of jagged ice.

  Lilly’s eyes widened. “No.”

  Adam came to his feet. “Wasn’t that another ploy to give the poor old depressed doctor a way to be useful, to give him hope?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t believe you. He’d never come up here on his own.”

  “Why would you say such a thing? He admires and respects you.”

  Adam whirled, his fists clenched. “He pities me and it probably sickens him to see me this way, just as it sickens me to have him see me.”

  Suddenly a scream, a real one, ripped through the house. It was chilling and full of pain and fear.

  Lilly and Adam froze.

  “Help! Help!” Samuel’s frantic yell boomed through the house.

  Lilly flung open Adam’s door and raced down the hallway toward the stairs.

  “What is it? What happened?” yelled Adam from behind her.

  She never paused. “I don’t know!”

  Lilly hit the stairs running. She didn’t stop until she barreled into the kitchen. On the floor flat on her back Odette moaned and whimpered. Samuel, her hand clutched in his, knelt by her side. A few feet away were scattered mixing bowls and an overturned step stool.

  “Lord, help me!” she cried.

 
The plea spurned Lilly into action. Rushing across the room, she knelt on the other side of the housekeeper and took her free hand. “Lie still, Odette. Where do you hurt?”

  Tears streamed down the woman’s face. “Oh, God, all over. I hope I didn’t break my hip like Sister Jackson.”

  Lilly’s frightened gaze flew up to Samuel.

  “Hush that nonsense,” he chided, his voice unsteady. “You just got the wind knocked out of you. You should have waited for me to put up the mixing bowl, woman.”

  “I hurt, Samuel. I hurt!” she cried, a stream of tears rolling down her face. “Go get Dr. Wakefield.”

  “Odet—”

  “I want Dr. Wakefield!” she cried, cutting off her husband. “He’ll know what to do.”

  Samuel’s callused hand tightened on his wife’s for a second; then he nodded and lifted his head. “Go get Dr. Wakefield.”

  Lilly looked from husband to wife; their eyes were pleading for her to do as they asked. “He may not come.”

  “He’ll come.” Odette drew in a deep breath. “Just go tell him. He’ll come for me.”

  “He’ll come,” Samuel confirmed.

  “Maybe we should just call an ambulance,” Lilly suggested, trying to remain calm.

  “Oh, my Lord! I want Dr. Wakefield,” Odette sobbed.

  “Hush that crying, woman, or you’ll get your pressure up. Miss Lilly is gonna go get him, and I bet you he’ll say you’re just fine.”

  Odette closed her eyes, tears leaking from beneath the lids. “I want Dr. Wakefield.”

  “I’ll go get him.” Lowering Odette’s hand gently to the floor, Lilly dashed out of the room.

  “What’s happening? Someone answer me!” yelled Adam.

  Lilly heard Dr. Wakefield’s voice the moment she rounded the corner of the hallway leading to the stairs. It appeared she wouldn’t have to go get Dr. Wakefield. He was coming to them. Or so she thought until she reached the base of the stairs and saw him, both hands clutched around the newel cap.

  Cautiously he stuck one foot out only to withdraw it. Even from the foot of the stairs, she could see the fear in his face. The reason that he never wanted to leave his room was suddenly answered.