I looked pointedly at Lawson and moved away in a hurry, dignity forgotten. As I walked away, I heard Maxwell talking.
“It’s time for you to leave, Jackson. Darby does not need to speak with you. I suggest you call for permission before you return. I’m sure Nathan doesn’t want you here.” His words were polite, but his tone was cold and left no room for argument.
"All right, Maxwell. I can see myself out.” There was a pause. Right before I got out of earshot, I heard Lawson speak again. “Damn, it is hot out. Dry as a bone with no rain in the forecast at all. The lake is dropping every day now. Won't be long until they find the boat, don't you think?"
Lawson was laughing as he walked away.
The French door closed behind me, and I could hear no more, but once again, I caught a strong whiff of jasmine and lilies.
Seventeen
I hid in my room for the rest of the day. I only emerged once, and that was to grab a sandwich and some fruit from the kitchen. My encounter with Lawson was very unsettling, and it didn’t help that I did not fully understand why Lawson had acted the way he did. I told myself to just shake it off, and for the most part I did exactly that. However, I would find myself thinking about it again, and replaying the incident in my mind, and it brought back my feelings of fear.
It was also pleasant not having to deal with Mother, and since my bedroom was a large and comfortable room, with its own separate sitting area, I didn't feel confined at all. Mother was always making snide little remarks about me, and in my room I was free of all that drama.
I read my book and sketched for a while to calm my nerves. I was working on a drawing of the house. Mostly, I wondered about Lawson Jackson. As my pencil glided over the paper, I would be thinking about the structure and details of the house, and then my mind would drift back to Lawson and his weird behavior. I couldn’t concentrate.
Why did he feel the need to come to the house and meet me? What was his real agenda? I had lots of questions, but no real answers. All I knew was I would stay far away from him in the future. His behavior with me had been unacceptable, and I didn't have to entertain him if he returned to the estate.
In the late afternoon, I fell into a troubled sleep. I woke up with a start, but at first, I was confused as to what had disturbed me. I heard raised voices that sounded very far away. I sat up and rubbed at my face, confused, and moved towards the door.
I strained to make out what was being said, but couldn’t understand the shouting. I was surprised to hear any noise at all because sound didn't carry very easily in this house with its stout, thick walls.
Was there some emergency? Opening my bedroom door, I crept into the hall.
"I don't care. I don't want Lawson Jackson to go anywhere near Darby again. That man is never welcome here for any reason. Have I made myself clear?"
It sounded like Nathan and someone else were on one of the staircases, arguing. Nathan was very loud, and very angry.
“I like having Lawson around. He makes me feel closer to Savannah. I miss her so much sometimes.” Was that Mother? Her voice was so faint that I wasn’t sure.
“He’s an asshole, and he’s not welcome in my house. That’s final.”
“That’s not fair. This is my home, too, and I should have any visitor I choose.” Yep, that was Mother.
I didn't wait for Nathan's reply.
I slipped back into our room and shut the door softly behind me. I sat down on the sofa and picked up my sketching again. I was so glad Nathan was home, and much earlier than I had expected. It was barely time for dinner. Didn’t he say it would be bedtime before he returned?
Nathan opened the door and walked towards me. "Are you ok, sweet girl?"
He was carrying his suit jacket, but did not take the time to hang it up. Maybe he was as glad to see me as I was to see him.
Smiling, I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Nate, I'm so glad you are home!"
Everything was okay again now that my husband had returned. I knew I didn’t need to worry about Lawson as long as Nathan was at home. Lawson had said as much.
I raised up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his lips. He ran his hands down my arms, and I winced.
"What is it? Are you hurt somewhere?" Nathan looked at my arms.
Sure enough, a dark bruise had developed where Lawson had grabbed me earlier.
"It's nothing. Just a little bruise." I pulled away just a little. For some reason I didn’t want to make a big deal of my earlier encounter.
"Did Jackson do that?" The naked fury on Nathan's face made me falter.
I nodded, hesitant to upset him further. I didn’t want Nathan to think he had to handle this situation for me. Now that I understood Lawson Jackson's real character, I would have no problem turning and going the other way if I saw him again. Or kneeing him in the balls. Also, if he came to Peacock Alley, I would call for Maxwell right away to escort him off the property.
Nathan made me give him every detail of my encounter with Lawson, and his anger grew the more he heard. However, he seemed relieved that Lawson hadn't touched me more. Why was that? I really wanted to learn about Nathan’s history with Lawson, but I felt shy about asking.
"I want you to stay far away from him. He cannot be trusted. I came back as soon as Maxwell told me that bastard had been sneaking around the estate." Nathan’s voice was tense, and he crossed his arms across his chest as he spoke. “I cut my meeting short in Atlanta to get back here.”
“Why don’t you trust him? He said you were friends, that you go way back.”
“I have my reasons. I don’t want to go into all that right now.” Nathan turned his back on me, and crossed the room to hang up his jacket.
I followed behind, not wanting to let the conversation end until I found out more. "He told me he was friends with Savannah, too. I have no desire to make him my friend, Nathan. Honestly, he seemed like an ass. I’m not sure why he even came over. He made a point of saying he waited until you weren’t here."
I hoped Nathan would tell me why they disliked each other so much. I needed him to trust me enough to tell me the story.
I looked earnestly into his eyes, and he regarded me with his usual serious expression. Whatever he saw there made him relax, and he drew me in for a lingering kiss. I returned his kiss, and then began removing his tie.
I guess Nathan wasn’t going to tell me the story today. It frustrated me that he wouldn’t share this information with me, but I could wait.
I wondered why Lawson was so "close" to Savannah, but Nathan did not like him at all.
Eighteen
The next morning after breakfast Nathan asked me to take a drive with him.
"There's somebody I need you to meet." The twinkle in his eyes made it clear he wanted to surprise me with this introduction.
Excited, I rushed to get ready and met him out front. The driver, who I had since learned was named Jerry, opened the door and smiled at me. Nathan climbed in behind me.
"Do you ever just drive yourself?" I fastened my seatbelt and turned to face him on the soft leather seat.
"Of course, but honestly, I rarely go anywhere around here. I work, and I travel for work, but mostly I just like staying on the estate. There's certainly always something to do there."
He rubbed his chin with one hand thoughtfully. He hadn't bothered to shave this morning because he said he knew I loved his stubble. I smiled as I watched him. He was very sexy with his scruff.
"You know, we can get you a car of your own if you want, but Jerry is always available to you, too. I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner on the estate."
"I have my license, but at college I took the bus everywhere. A car was just too expensive to maintain. I had an old car in high school, but I sold it when I went off to school. If Jerry's game to drive me, I don't see the point in getting another car."
"We should switch your license over to Mississippi in case you get the urge to go somewhere on your own, but I have to confess I would r
ather you let Jerry drive. He can keep an eye on you; act as your security when you go places." Nathan seemed very serious as he spoke, but I thought he was joking.
I laughed. "From the little I've seen Mississippi seems a bit sleepy. How much trouble can I get into?"
"You'd be surprised." Nathan's tone was dry. "You now belong to an immensely wealthy family, Darby. We need to take reasonable precautions and be alert at all times. Sometimes people who look like friends are actually enemies."
I hadn't thought of it that way. I mulled his words over as we made our way through the small town. Maybe he wasn’t joking about my security after all. I stared out of the car window, lost in my thoughts. My mind drifted back to Lawson Jackson. Was he just one example of potential situations I should be concerned about? Was there more my husband wasn’t telling me?
I put my troubled thoughts to rest, and focused on the scenery. It was early October. Back home, we would be in the middle of fall, and thinking about how soon the first snow would arrive. Here, it was still in the nineties and very dry. More and more, the topic of conversation when visitors came to the estate was the drought and the worry that it would never rain again.
Soon, we were pulling up in front of an upscale-looking nursing home. It was all brick with a large porch out front. White rocking chairs lined the broad porch, and the landscaping was neat and well maintained. It reminded me of Peacock Alley in a miniature version, but this had been built relatively recently.
I turned to Nathan.
“A nursing home? Why are we here?”
"I wanted to introduce you to my grandmother. It seems like the proper thing to do, to introduce my new bride to all of my family members, but let me warn you. She is ninety-two, and has dementia. I’m sure you can imagine how stressful that is for me."
He sighed, sounding tired. "I guess I'm just checking a box with this introduction. You know, of course I’m going to introduce my new wife to my grandmother, even if she doesn’t remember this visit later. But maybe today will be a good day for her. It is impossible to tell in advance, but usually, mornings are her best time. I have a need to show you off."
I smiled and stepped out of the car into the heat. "I can't wait to meet her." I took his hand and squeezed it before letting it go as we walked into the building.
The inside of the nursing home was bright, cheerful, and scrubbed clean. All the staff wore friendly smiles as they greeted us. The floors were a tile that mimicked hardwood, there were crown moldings, high ceilings, and plush rugs scattered everywhere. This place reeked of money.
I distinctly remembered my grandfather living in a home years ago, and it hadn't looked like this. It had green linoleum tiles that were peeling and cracked, and the employees had always looked hurried and overworked. I had always been reluctant to visit as a child because it wasn't a happy place. In fact, I had nightmares after one particularly memorable visit. This place was much better for sure.
However, there was no disguising that this was an institution. Underneath the clean scents of disinfectant and air freshener, there was the unmistakable smell of human waste, and behind the piped-in classical music, there were sounds of the confused mutterings of the elderly.
I could tell the place made Nathan sad. His face fell as he took in his surroundings, and I grabbed his hand again to offer some comfort. This time I didn’t let it go.
"We kept her at the estate as long as we could, of course, with private nurses and around the clock care. After she started wandering, we knew it wasn't safe anymore to do that. We couldn't take the chance that she would disappear on all that wild acreage if somebody turned their head at just the wrong moment."
He sighed, weary. "I found this place, and we liked it because it was at least close to home. I donated money to renovate and update the facilities, and I think they take good care of her and all the residents. It's the best we can do in a terribly difficult situation."
After we presented identification and signed in, the attendant at the desk buzzed us in through heavy glass doors. There were several distinct layers of security, and I imagined these measures were intended to keep the residents safely in, as much as to keep intruders out. A guard sat behind the desk attendant, keeping a careful eye on everyone in the hallway.
We headed down a short hallway to the very end. Nathan knocked softly on a light oak door, and after a beat, we walked right on in.
The room was large and brightly lit from a just-right combination of natural and artificial light. There was a comfortable sitting area with a TV and a door to a private bath in the corner. It looked like a luxurious hotel room, with just the hospital bed to give away its real purpose.
A frail, impeccably dressed woman with thin, white hair perched on a sofa. She was beautiful. Despite her advanced age, her hair had been curled carefully, and she was wearing makeup. I noticed her perfect posture, back straight, and feet together on the floor. Her purse was at her side as if she was ready to head out the door. That made me smile a little.
The only problem I could see at first glance was that she was giving hell to a young nurse.
“Come on, Mrs. Randolph. We go through this every morning. I just need you to take your medicine because it will make you feel so much better.” The nurse smiled as she spoke.
“I don’t like those pills. They stick in my throat. Damn horse pills. If you like them so much, then you take them.” Her voice was strong and definite.
Smiling with warm affection, Nathan strode forward. "Gee Jay, why are you giving Maria so much trouble today?"
She seemed to recognize him by the way her faded blue eyes lit up, and it didn't take long for him to convince her to take the medicine. I got the impression they had played this scene out before.
“I don’t want to take these pills. She’s always bringing me some damn pill. Why doesn’t she ever bring me a shot of whiskey instead?” She tapped her toes on the floor.
Nathan laughed and took the tiny white cup of medication from the nurse. “Here. Take your ‘damn pills’ and maybe next time I will bring you some whiskey.”
The old lady acquiesced and swallowed the pills without any apparent problem at all. The nurse stepped back, and sat down on a chair by the door.
Nathan hugged his grandmother and looked back at me. "This is my Grandma Joyce. That was a little much for me to try to say when I was a toddler, so she became Gee Jay. Grandma, this is my new wife, Darby."
Touched by the image of a baby Nate struggling to say grandma, I stepped closer and held out my hand, smiling.
Grandma Joyce turned faded blue eyes on me. "Savannah? Is that you?"
Awkward. My smile dropped, and so did my hand.
I sat down across from his grandmother, so she could see me clearly and resolved not to take her asking for Savannah personally.
Regrouping, I smiled again before I spoke. “No, I’m Darby. We’ve never met before, but Nathan and I recently got married. I’m so very excited to meet you.”
“Where’s Savannah? She’s Nathan’s wife.”
I looked at Nathan for help.
"No, Gee Jay, this is Darby. We just got married. Savannah died last year in that boating accident."
Nathan was very patient, but I could tell he was frustrated on my behalf.
In the middle of this confusion, I looked up and could see the nurse clearly checking my husband out. She was preening a little, trying to get his attention, and I’m sure I caught her looking at Nathan’s ass when he bent over to hug his grandmother again.
Despite my frustration that the ghost of Savannah had followed me to the nursing home, I wanted to laugh at the transparent attraction the nurse had for Nathan. I didn't blame her one bit. I had been equally star-struck when I first met him, and this woman was no better than I was.
"I really want to see Savannah. Why don't you ever bring Savannah around to visit? Why, Nathan?" She started getting increasingly agitated, and kicked a small silver tray on the coffee table with her foot, sending its c
ontents crashing to the floor. "I want Savannah!"
I flinched at the unexpected noise. Why is it that the old can seem weak and frail, but when they want, their voices are so strident and insistent? Nathan and the nurse tried to calm her down.
“Now Mrs. Joyce. We’ve talked about Savannah’s accident many times. She can’t come to visit you.” The nurse tried to soothe the old lady while Nathan shook out a crocheted blanket and draped it over her lap.
Sensing I was the problem, I stepped away, and started looking at framed photos by her bed. I smiled at one of a much younger Nathan and skipped over pictures of people I didn't know.
One photo, in particular, caught my eye. It was a dark-haired woman on a small sailboat. She was smiling and laughing, standing on the deck, the picture of sophistication. It was Savannah, for sure. I recognized her from my Google search back when I first met Nathan.
I glanced back at Nathan’s grandmother to see if she was watching me. She was engrossed in Nathan’s attentions, and ignored what I was doing.
I picked up the picture for a closer look and saw the name of the boat – Attends Mon Retour. French, I guess. Fancy. I put it down and rejoined the group.
I stood there, afraid to speak. I didn’t want his grandmother calling me Savannah again. The nurse looked at me in sympathy. "This isn't her best day, I'm afraid. Maybe it would be better if you two came back another time?"
Nathan sighed and took me by the hand. He leaned down to kiss his grandmother goodbye on the cheek, and defeated, we left the room. I could still hear her calling for her precious Savannah all the way down the hall.
Despite my vow not to take this personally, my mind wouldn't stop examining the situation. Nathan's grandmother was sick, and could not help getting confused. I understood the horrors and sadness that came with dementia. But it made me take a closer look at my own future. What if Nathan and I had long, happy lives together? But, at the end of his life, imagine he got dementia like his grandmother and started calling for Savannah, too? I shivered in fear. Sometimes my marriage felt like a horror movie.
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