I was quiet for a time, thinking over his words. I looked out over the endless acreage and tried to imagine large numbers of troops camped out in the fields surrounding me. Considering the history of this place was overwhelming. Also, to think a quirk of fate had saved the house from destruction. Everything would be different if the house had burned.
We rode around for a couple of hours, chatting and checking on trees. I enjoyed spending time with Maxwell; he was always lovely to me, and never mentioned Savannah.
Just for fun, he drove me all the way to the edge of the property and pointed out Lake Arkabutla just past the wire fence. It was much larger than I expected and very calm and serene in the morning light. I remembered that this is where Savannah drowned, and where her body still rested, somewhere on the bottom of that big, majestic lake. It made me shiver despite the rising temperature.
"The official entrance to the lake property is a few miles from here." Maxwell laughed. "When we were kids, Nathan and I sometimes would just crawl under the fence here, and go right in. Sometimes we would even go swimming at night. I'm glad nothing bad ever happened to us because we snuck out, and nobody ever knew we were gone. Those were some fun times."
He seemed lost in his memories for a moment.
"Is it safe to swim in the lake?" I realized what I had just said, and I flushed. "I'm sorry. That was so stupid of me."
I was embarrassed by my thoughtless words.
Maxwell smiled in his kind way. "It is usually very safe to swim in the lake. Nathan and I swam there many times as boys. Savannah died because she took her boat out in a bad storm after she had been drinking heavily, and that wasn't a smart decision. The authorities believe she must have hit her head, or perhaps been struck by lightning, and that is why she didn't just swim back to shore. She was a strong swimmer, usually."
That was the first time he had mentioned anything about her to me. He was very matter of fact, direct, and didn't bother using the worshipful tone most people used when talking about Savannah. I was grateful.
“I’m sorry for what happened to Savannah.”
Maxwell seemed lost in thought for a moment, but then he nodded and went on. "About this time last year, it started raining, and we thought it would never stop. It rained off and on for over a month. It was nothing for us to get four inches of rain in one day. Then the next day the rain would continue. The flooding was immense and did a lot of property damage in the community. Luckily, for us, Peacock Alley is on high ground. I only worried that the pecans were getting too much water. Now, look at us, dry as a bone, worried that it will never rain again. What a difference a year makes, I guess."
The weather was certainly unusual. One day last week, we thought it was going to storm. The meteorologists at the local weather station were cautiously optimistic, and late in the afternoon, the clouds started building. However, nothing came of it. After a while, the clouds moved on, and we were left with just sun and heat, as usual.
As we were riding back to the house, I noticed a large, well-maintained barn in the distance; it was one of many outbuildings. I pointed it out to Maxwell.
"When I was a little girl, I really wanted a horse. I wondered if Nathan would mind getting a few horses so we could go riding together." My voice betrayed my excitement at the idea.
Maxwell smiled at me. "I'm fairly sure Nathan is so besotted with you that he would buy you a dozen horses, but he doesn't have to do that. There are several horses in the barn now. I'm sure there is one in particular that I'm thinking of that would be perfect for you to learn to ride. I'll talk it over with Nathan this afternoon."
I clapped my hands in delight. Maxwell was so sweet to me.
He stopped at the edge of an open meadow.
"Sorry, Miss Darby, I need to check the air pumps in this little pond. When it gets this hot, sometimes the fish are starved for oxygen, and they might die. We run pumps in all the ponds until October every year as a precaution."
Because it was early in the morning, the real heat hadn't descended upon us yet, so I decided to take advantage of our impromptu stop and walk back to the house.
“I think I will just walk from here. I’m really anxious to explore a little on foot.”
Maxwell offered to give me a ride and then come back out to the pump, but I told him there was no need. I jumped down from the cart and started walking.
Soon I came to a little cedar and brick building I had noticed earlier, but I didn't know its purpose. I was intrigued.
It sat in a small, open clearing behind the main house, with several apple, pear, and fig trees grouped around it. Curious, I decided to go in if the door was unlocked. Pulling on the wrought iron door handle, I walked into an air-conditioned space. The cold air was a noticeable difference from outside, and a welcome relief.
A dark figure turned toward me, and I was startled to see that I wasn't alone. I jumped and took a step back in surprise.
"Oh! Mother, I didn't realize anyone was in here."
Mother, dressed in her usual funereal black, was sitting on a bed in the middle of the room. My heart was pounding fast and hard, and it was obvious I had surprised her, as well.
I turned to leave, putting my hand on the door handle again.
"Don't go, Miss Turner. Let me show you around." She stood slowly, smiling what looked like a genuine smile, not the usual grimace she had reserved just for me.
Surprised, I came closer to her. Was this progress in our relationship? I had discovered since I moved to Peacock Alley, that my capacity for optimism was limitless.
"This was Savannah's secret little hideaway." She smiled at me.
Oh, great. My heart sank. Of course, I would find Savannah's hang out spot with Mother in it. Just what I needed to start my day.
"Savannah loved this place. She called it the garden house and spent so much time here, and decorated it so beautifully. Nathan decided after she died to leave everything exactly as she had left it. He couldn't bear to change a thing." Her words were like tiny stabs to my heart. "Here, let me show you her things."
"No, really, I don't want to intrude. I was just walking back to the house." I took a step towards the door, eyeing an escape.
"I insist, Miss Turner." Her voice was as cold as ever.
I was almost hypnotized by the unnatural light in Mother's eyes. I had never seen her so animated before. There was color in her usually pallid cheeks. She seemed almost worshipful of Savannah, and now I was going to have to hear more about the first wife who was so superior to me in every way. Just fucking great.
"Here is her bed."
Mother ran a head over the silky coverlet, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. She pulled a corner of the spread back to show me the snowy linen sheets beneath it.
"She liked to come here and take naps, and sometimes she and Nathan would make love out here for hours. Especially when it rained. Savannah loved the sound of the rain on all the glass windows, and on the skylights."
There was a down comforter folded at the foot of the bed. I could just see Nathan and Savannah wrapped up in the covers, in an intimate embrace. Mother was painting quite a picture for me.
Now I was creeped out. I did not want to hear about my husband's sex life with his first wife. What mother would discuss such a sensitive subject matter concerning her son anyway? And who told her these details? Savannah? It surely wasn’t Nathan.
Mother moved slowly to a large modern armoire against one wall and opened it. She fingered the clothing inside, even lifting one dress off its hanger and sniffing it.
“I really should be going.” Again, I turned to the door, but Mother kept talking, ignoring my efforts to escape her.
"Here are many of her clothes. Didn't she have some beautiful clothing? No yoga pants or t-shirts for Savannah. That simply wouldn't do for the mistress of Peacock Alley."
Once again, another jab in my direction.
I noticed a silky nightgown pooled on the floor next to the armoire, as if its owner had just sli
pped out of it, and into her day clothes. I scanned the room again. From the way the room looked, Savannah could have been here minutes ago. There was no dust anywhere, just candles on every available surface, and dried flowers in vases by the bedside and on the fireplace mantel.
Why hadn’t someone packed all this stuff up by now?
“Wait, Darby. There’s more to see.”
I took another step toward the door.
"She picked those flowers herself, you know, the day before she died." Mother saw me looking in the direction of the dried flowers. "We just couldn't bear to throw them away."
As the sun rose higher in the sky, the garden house filled with the loveliest light from all directions. The light was golden and illuminated the room. All of the windows and skylights produced a glow that combined in a way that was almost heavenly. I could certainly understand why Savannah liked to be out here. However, the beautiful sunlight seemed out of place with the cold feeling crawling up my spine.
Unable to help myself, I stepped back into the room. I could see an open doorway that led to a full bath with a claw foot tub. Again, I tortured myself with images of Savannah and Nathan cuddling in a bubble bath, whispering words of love and passion to each other. I remembered the bath Nathan had drawn for me when I first arrived at Peacock Alley. Was that something he had done for Savannah, too?
I wanted to hit myself in the head to stop the images that filled my mind. Mother was smiling as if she knew exactly what I was thinking, and what it was doing to me. It seemed to make her happy.
Mother glided in her ghost-like way to a small vanity and picked up a tube of lipstick. "Here is all of her make up. Everything high end, of course. Only the best would do for Savannah. She bought most of her cosmetics in Paris, New York, or Los Angeles. I like to come in here and smell her powders and perfume. Nathan does, as well. He says he can feel close to her here as if she never left. It does seem like she could just walk in that door any minute, doesn't it?"
That fanatical light gleamed in her eyes once more. I was getting goosebumps.
Mother misted some of Savannah's perfume into the air and inhaled, closing her eyes as she breathed in.
"Nathan had this custom made for Savannah in Paris one year. Isn't it lovely?"
Now I could smell the cloying scent of jasmine and lilies. I didn't like it at all. It reminded me of something unpleasant, but I couldn't quite remember what...A funeral, maybe.
“It really doesn’t appeal to me. It’s a little heavy for my tastes.” My voice sounded faint.
"What do you think, Miss Turner? Do you think the dead watch us?" She crossed the room towards me. I found myself backing away, but I wasn’t quick enough.
Mother reached out and grabbed my wrist in a tight grip.
I stared at her, horrified and mute, trying to pull free.
"Do you think she watches you and wonders why Nathan settled for such a poor imitation of her beauty and charm? I wonder how long she will stand for it before she feels compelled to take action." She glared at me.
I pried Mother's cold fingers off my wrist and spun toward to the door. I was running away in my panic. Mother started laughing behind me.
Finally, I was through the door, and I slammed it shut behind me.
I have never believed in ghosts, still don't to this day, but at the very least, Savannah's memory was haunting Peacock Alley.
Thirteen
Once free of Mother's grip, I ran back to the main house. Never mind the heat, I needed to put some distance between the garden house and me. Once inside, I went to the sanctuary of my bedroom and was surprised to find Nathan there, standing by the sofa.
"Darby, what's wrong? Has something happened?" He took in my flushed cheeks and overall flustered state.
"I've just been exploring the garden house, Nate." I said the words almost accusingly and wasn't surprised when he flinched. Not surprised, but disappointed instead.
I had been hoping Mother was lying about some of the things she said, but from the way Nathan was now avoiding eye contact with me, I wondered if she had indeed told me the truth after all.
If she had told the truth, I should be grateful. I needed to know if my husband was still in love with his dead wife.
"Was that Savannah's special hideaway? Mother told me all about it." My eyes narrowed.
"You are acting like a child." Nathan’s voice sounded frustrated and angry as he turned away from me.
Now it was my turn to flinch at his words.
He walked away from me, his voice cold. "I don't intend to discuss this with you."
"Why not?" I demanded. I followed after him. "You never talk about Savannah. Her things were all over the place out there. Her makeup, her clothes. Nothing has changed since she died. It's a damn shrine to her memory. It looks like she could just walk in at any point, and resume her life as your loving and devoted wife."
Nathan stopped walking toward the door, and he turned and glared at me. "You have no idea what you are talking about, little girl. Just drop it."
"I can't drop it. Every time I turn around, there is someone or something to remind me about perfect Savannah. Usually, it's your mother doing the reminding, but there are plenty of people out there eager to tell me how different I am than her, how inferior I am to her." I hated that my insecurities were on full display, but I couldn’t seem to stop my words from tumbling out.
Secretly, I hoped he would tell me I was silly, and remind me of how much he loved me, and how it was just the two of us from now on, and that I was perfect for him in every way, but he said nothing.
Frustrated, I pressed on. "I'm drowning here, Nate."
Too late, I realized my choice of words were more than unfortunate. They were downright cruel.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" I reached for my husband, but he pulled away.
Nathan looked furious and then stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I sank down into a chair by the fireplace and wept like an inconsolable child.
NATHAN DIDN'T COME to lunch that day. Nathan almost never missed eating lunch with me, and if he did, he told me in advance. I knew his absence was directly related to our earlier fight. Maxwell, too, was missing from the table, choosing to run some errands in town. It was just me and Mother. Lonely, I picked up my napkin and placed it in my lap and worried about my husband’s absence.
I tried making conversation as we ate our lunch, but I was distracted by the events of the morning.
Mother noticed my preoccupation and pounced.
“Where is Nathan? Did the two of you have a fight?” She smiled smugly when I flinched.
Irritated, I replied. “It’s really not any of your business.”
Mother kept smiling. “Nathan didn’t like to miss a meal with Savannah. They were practically inseparable.”
I decided I needed to be more direct with Mother. If I continued to let this woman run all over me, I was exactly the little girl Nathan had accused me of being. I needed to stand up for myself.
I was also tired of hearing about Savannah at every turn.
I placed my heavy, sterling silver spoon with the "R" monogram down, squared my shoulders, and sat up straighter.
"I've decided to make some changes, Mother."
Dead silence.
"I'm going to order some new bedding for the master bedroom. I think a lighter color would brighten the room immensely, and I believe it needs a feminine touch. I'm also going to hang a few of my paintings there, and I think I will convert the garden house into an art studio. I noticed it gets lots of beautiful morning light, and..."
Mother gasped and clutched her black pearls. "No, Miss Turner. You will not do any of these things. I will speak to Nathan immediately. He will not allow Savannah's memory to be disrespected in this dreadful manner."
I had no chance to put up an argument, or even tell her she was unreasonable. Mother stormed out of the room in a seeming panic, and I followed her, curious to see what would develop.
&nb
sp; Surely, a husband would back his wife, right? He had told me I could have anything I wanted, and I certainly hadn't created a list of outrageous demands.
Mother went straight to the library where Nathan was working, and I stayed right outside the doorway. I wasn't hiding on purpose, but Nathan didn't notice me standing there. I wasn’t sure if Mother knew I was there or not. I had been right on her heels, but she was so upset by my words. Maybe she didn’t know I was in the hallway, or maybe she did know, and she didn’t care if I heard her.
"Nathan, Darby just told me she's converting the garden house into an art studio. You can't allow this to happen!"
Mother was so distressed that she was stammering. I was a little afraid for her when she started gasping and turned a little pale. Nathan took her by the arm and helped her sit down.
"Darby isn't going to do any such thing. I'll have Maxwell put a special lock on the door so no one can get in." His voice was calm and untroubled.
"You shouldn't have married her, Nathan. It was a mistake! She's trying to ruin everything."
There was a long pause, then Nathan sighed.
"Maybe I shouldn't have married her. She's so young and innocent..." Nathan sounded exhausted.
I didn't stay to listen anymore. I fled, broken-hearted. Nathan had just confirmed my worst fears. He did not want the garden house redecorated because it was Savannah's shrine. He regretted marrying me so impulsively.
Nathan was still in love with the memory of his dead wife.
Fourteen
Mother found me on the front porch. I was staring at the old oak trees, dripping in Spanish moss, but I really didn’t see them. I was lost in my gloomy thoughts.
Mother didn’t seem to share my mood. She was smiling in her satisfaction. Savoring her victory over me, she strolled over and leaned against the wrought iron railing.
"I told you Nathan would never allow Savannah to be disrespected. When are you going to realize he is simply using you as a cheap, convenient replacement?" She made a face of displeasure, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head at me. "Although why he chose you for that role, I will never understand. Almost anyone else would be a better choice."
His Wife Page 9