Possessed by a Stranger

by Jeny Stone

  “We should go up to the house today and tell Pops what we found.” He looked questionably into her eyes.

  She knew he considered what she was about to mention. But, she felt obligated to discuss the matter for his peace of mind. “I hate to bring this up but … well; do you think he’s hanging on for the answer?”

  His hand embraced her hand resting on the table. She smiled at him with the same sad smile brought on by those letters. She opened her heart to take on every ones pain and now she was absorbing his. “Maybe, but the doctor told us he didn’t have much time left. He said to expect it any time. I don’t want to chance him not knowing.”

  Hannah moved to sit on his lap. With his head cuddled in her arms she rubbed her hands over his back.

  “I agree. I think he should know.” She would have agreed with whichever choice he made. He needed reassurance and she would always give him what he needed.

  Garret went ahead to talk with his parents taking the letter with him. Hannah walked to the mansion on the hill with every step full of dread. Pops wanted to know so he could pass on in peace. He had told her several times he didn’t want to disappoint Abbey when they met in heaven. Pops was ready. He had been for some time.

  Garret met her outside. He was solemn. “I explained it to my parents. Mom and Dad both agree. They are in his room now, waiting on us.” He held her hand as they walked into the house and upstairs to Pops’ room. Everyone gathered around the hospital bed. Garret read Pops the last letter Grant Presley sent.

  The old man smiled weakly with the little energy he had left. “At least I now know the truth. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  “Hannah had put all the clues together. She’s going to explain the legend.” Garret rested his hand on his grandfather’s boney shoulder.

  She moved closer to the head of his bed taking his hand in hers. “You helped find the treasure. The treasure wasn’t gold or money it was their love. Grant did send gold dust in his love letters but it was just enough to sprinkle on the pages. It was probably fool’s gold. Louise wrote ‘Sunlight glistened from the pages with only a candle in which to read.’ It was the gold dust sticking to the pages.”

  “So the treasure was fool’s gold?”

  “She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t need or want riches only his love. Grant wanted to give her the life he thought she deserved so he went to find his fortune. ‘The loftiness of his passion shuttered my soul. Lying in his arms, surrounded by the nature of things, I prayed he chose me. A mistress, full bodied with luxuries, unbeknownst to one of simple comforts, seduced him away. He took from me, the warmth of the sun, in search of presenting me with a cold harvest moon.’ The four paintings are the view from the sides of the attic. Or as you call it… the loft.”

  “You mean love nest, don’t you?” Garret teased another weak smile from his grandfather.

  “She gave your family all the gold dust Grant sent. She mixed it in her paint. ‘I grinded the source of my pain into a palette of grief. Brush strokes, moistened with tears, swept across the canvas. Flecks clung to my fingers like sap from a weeping willow tree.’ I think she blamed his death on his family for not accepting her. And she was a vindictive woman. She painted that nude picture of them and left this poem on the back of the canvas.

  ‘True love never dies even after death

  Our souls will meet again in time

  Grieve the loss of your son with this quest

  Gold or riches you will not find’

  She wrote in her journal … ‘Give them their wants in the faces of the theft they perpetrated’. It seems she added a bit more than faces to the portrait. If you hadn’t sent us to the loft for the portrait we wouldn’t have found the letter.”

  “I can just about hear Louise laughing now. This sounds exactly like something she would do. Hannah, I’m so glad I can meet Abbey now and tell her she was right. You are the link to her past.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Three days later Hannah stepped out of Pops’ room. Closing Pops’ bedroom door behind her, a wave of nauseas crashed over her. Stooping down in the empty hallway, she hugged her knees to her chest. Tears that she had held in check moistened her cheeks. The spark in Pops’ eyes had dimmed flickering to extinguish forever.

  Mrs. Presley had contacted his doctor and was waiting on his examination before alerting the family. Garret deserved to know now of his grandfather’s condition. The sick feeling she had felt passed. She used the wall to steady her rubbery legs when she stood to leave. Ignoring Mrs. Presley’s wishes, she took out her cell phone to call Garret. She hesitated trying to find the words.

  As soon as she was outside of the mansion, she made the call. His phone rang three times before he answered.

  “Hello, this is Garret Presley.”

  Sitting in the conference room at the head of the table with ten employees, he didn’t want them to suspect this was a personal call. His curiosity prompted him to answer. Hannah had never called him at work. If this call was for phone sex, he would call a lunch break.

  He sounded formal. Wasn’t she programmed into his phone? “This is Hannah. Garret, Pops doesn’t look good today.”

  “What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant before he asked. He heard the answer in her tearful voice. He needed to clarify it wasn’t too late.

  “Your mother has called the doctor but I think you might need to come home now.”

  “Thanks.” He was barely able to talk with the lump forming in his throat, chocking the breath out of him.

  He stood, announced “Family emergency”, leaving everyone and everything behind. He alerted Jeff, who had damn well better be outside waiting when he walked out the door. Jeff was and Garret hurriedly entered the car.

  “Townhouse and step on it.” As soon as they arrived, in record-breaking time, Garret went directly to his garage for his car. Nothing would stand in the way of his getting to his grandfather.

  With tear-filled eyes, Hannah watched his BMW whiz by her cottage. She pictured the speedometer touching the red line the entire trip for him to get here in this short of time. Her heart painfully clenched for what he was about to face.

  An hour later, an ambulance, a police vehicle and a black car followed the lane to the mansion within twenty minutes of each other. There weren’t any flashing lights or any signs of urgency. She knew he had passed on, taking with him the answer to the legend. Hannah desperately needed to believe Grammy had been there to greet him at the end of his journey. She waited in the swing in her front yard until the ambulance passed again. She said a silent farewell to Pops.

  The emptiness that filled the room overwhelmed Garret as he sat beside the stripped hospital bed. He had held Pops’ hand as he took his last breath. The light in his eyes had slowly dimmed then disappeared. Garret knew in his heart that his grandfather had bravely accepted death. Grant Presley died with a peaceful smile on his lips. The rest of his family had gathered downstairs but he remained in the room to grieve alone. His chest weighted with sorrow crushed the breath out of him. With his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face, he shed the tears of his final goodbye to his beloved grandfather.

  This private moment might be the only one afforded. The house would fill with friends, family, business associates and others wanting to pay their respect. Then, there would be the viewing, the funeral and a wake. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. No one opened the door to check on him, they all knew better.

  He stared at the four paintings lined across Pops’ dresser. The paintings that brought joy to Pops’ final days. Garret went to the bathroom to wash his face. He walked back into the room, stacked the paintings to take to Hannah. He needed to see her, to feel her, to hold her.

  Unable to sleep, Hannah heard her front door open. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table noting the time, two fifteen. She flipped the bed clothes as she swung her feet to the floor. With bare feet she crept to the top of the stairs. Garret was placing the four paintings
on the side chair along with his jacket. His head and shoulders drooped as if not able to hold the pain. She floated down the stairs. He met her when she reached the bottom step. Her arms encircled his neck as she pulled his head to her comforting bosom. Words were useless, as she knew from experience. Trivial redundant consolations that failed to penetrate the wall of sorrow caused by the loss of a loved one. A broken heart could only heal itself with time and tears.

  She trailed her hand down his arm to grasp his hand, and then led him up the stairs. In her bedroom, she helped him into the bed. She removed his shoes before climbing in beside him. Gathering him in her arms, she soothingly ran her hands over his back. She soothed him to help release his tightened muscles as he finally drifted into a restless sleep. She dozed several times only to be awakened by his body’s sudden jerks.

  When the pain in his heart engulfed him, he would squeeze her until he regained control over his emotions. She comforted him just by lying beside him. Her warm body pressed against his, eased the pain. He wasn’t alone. He had her.

  The curbs lined with parked vehicles on both sides of the street. Hannah drove passed the overflowing funeral home parking lot. She followed the line of slow moving vehicles looking for an open parking space. Two blocks on the left a church parking lot was being used as an alternative parking location. A police officer waving a flashlight directed the oncoming traffic into the lot.

  She walked behind a group of locals the two blocks to the final showing of Mr. Grant Presley. The people chattered amongst themselves anticipating the elaborate funeral of a town icon. They spoke of the wake hosted at the Presley mansion as if it were the biggest bash of their lives. Hannah understood their seemingly callous conversation. Pops’ passing allowed them a glimpse into the lives of the inaccessible family at the top of the hill overlooking their meager existence. This was a chance of a lifetime to hob-knob with the rich and famous Presley family. She had more in common with them than she cared to admit.

  Hannah paused outside the entrance looking toward the stars. She attempted to drain the tears forming in her eyes back into her tear ducts. After patting the escaped excess of tears from the corners of her eyes, she entered the funeral home. The herd of people crammed together in an efficiently orchestrated viewing process corralled into a slow moving line.

  Hannah removed the photograph from her coat pocket before slipping out of her coat and hanging it over her arm. She wrapped the photograph of the painting of Grant and Louise in tissues holding it in her hand. The photograph fulfilled a promise she had made to Pops. He swore her to secrecy. She respected his wishes keeping his trusted last request from his family, including Garret.

  She signed the visitation log. The casket surrounded by a garden of floral arrangements lay open at the end of the line. Garret stood protectively by the head of the casket shaking hands; kissing cheeks of all the mourners paying their last respects to the man, he loved so dearly. His staunch façade was admirable, heartbreaking. Her arms ached to comfort him, make the pain disappear from the hidden place in his soul. His parents sat close to exit where the line was being ushered out of the room.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat as he stood in front of the last bed Pops would ever sleep in. Hannah warmly smiled at the empty shell lying in a bed of tufted baby blue satin. She hadn’t known him long but he had given her so much. He had connected her with her past. Being the last blood relative of either side of her family, the past was all she had. Thanks to his shared recollections, Louise Abernathy Franks had become her great Grammy. It was odd how something so small could hold so much value in her heart. She slipped the picture behind the red satin handkerchief in his suit jacket pocket.

  Garret stepped beside her. He removed the picture. Pulling back the lapels of Pops’ suit, he placed the photograph inside the shirt pocket. He readjusted his grandfather’s burial attire smoothing the jacket to perfection and straitening his tie. His hand firmly touched her back as he stared into her upturned face.

  “He would want it next to his heart.” He stepped back to his obligatory position of the Presley family representative.

  With his jaw, tightly clenched Garret fixated on Hannah. In the short time she knew Pops, they formed a bond. Her gesture of the photograph gave Garret closure he had been searching to find. It was the perfect gift for Pops to take with him.

  His father relieved him as the family representative just in time to follow Hannah outside. He scanned the area not sure what direction she might have taken. Two young men stood talking with her on the sidewalk. Garret walked up behind her. He slapped his hand on Seth’s shoulder gripping tightly.

  “Hello Seth, I haven’t seen you for a while. Are you staying out of trouble?” He increased the pressure on Seth’s shoulder seeing a hungry look in that young buck’s eyes, he didn’t care to see. Hannah belonged to him and this kid better get any expectations he had out of his head.

  “Yes, sir.” Seth and his friend quickly walked away.

  Garret wrapped his arm around her feeling the comfort of her warmth. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  She slipped her arm around her big strong man wanting to absorb some of his pain. She tilted her head and was greeted with a smile. “How are you holding up?” A quick shrug of his shoulders answered.

  They reached her car in silence. He helped her inside her car then leaned to place a kiss on her lips. He rested one arm on the open car door not wanting to tear his gaze from her upturned face.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Make sure you lock your doors. It might be late before I can get away … but I will be there.” She smiled nodding her head in agreement. He reluctantly shut her door and remained standing in the same spot until she drove out of sight.

  It was after midnight when Garret slipped into bed beside her. She snuggled into his chest. Wrapped in the comfort of each other arms they would get through Pops death together. It was these moments, safely cocooned in each other’s arms, when they could share anything and everything. Except, she couldn’t find the courage to tell him she loved him. She couldn’t chance speeding his eventual departure from her life. Especially, with one of his reasons for coming every weekend just passed away. Now, she was his only reason and her importance in his life would be tested. She dreaded the outcome.

  Holding her in his arms felt so right when everything else in his world felt so wrong, out of kilter. Lord, she eased the turmoil in his heart, mind and soul.

  “They’ve decided to hold a short graveside service. There isn’t a building large enough to hold one indoors. Pops made all the funeral arrangements and stipulated he wanted it held in town.”

  “There was a huge turnout tonight.”

  “Yes and all those people will be at the house tomorrow for the wake.”

  “Does your mother need any help with anything?”

  “She’s hired caterers to do all the work. She’s planning to feed an army. You are coming aren‘t you?”

  “I’ll be there.” She would always be where he needed her. He held her all night in his arms.

  The mansion filled with a steady stream of people from a variety of lifestyles. After consuming a full glass of champagne from the many toasts raised to Pops, Hannah mingled with the guests from room to room. She had yet to stumble across any Presley.

  She had accidentally introduced herself to two of Pops’ former wives. They entertained her for almost an hour squabbling over who got the best settlement and whether or not they would be named in his will. Somewhere along the way, she had been appointed mediator to their endless debates. Pops’ wives had a lot in common. They both sported bend-over-and-fall-on-your-face boobs, money as their first priority, a long list of wealthy ex-husbands, loud boisterous personalities, and to top it all off, not a brain between the two of them.

  Feeling the effects of the champagne and bored with their antics Hannah gave Pops his last hurrah. “I’ve heard rumors his money was divided according to which wife provided the most pleasure. Yo
u know … of a sexual nature.”

  Hannah walked away hearing them recounting their sexual exploits. Their voices raised in an attempt to talk over each other. Some guest quickly moved away while others moved in to hear more of the intimate details shouted back and forth between the women. Hannah felt Garret’s arm grasp her tightly around her waist. He relieved her of her champagne glass leaving it on the first table they passed.

  With a deep chuckle in his voice, he whispered in her ear. “That was bad … oh God … so bad. Pops is probably laughing his ass off right about now. No more alcohol for you or we might have a riot.” He steered her away from the commotion.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I know he was a hound dog and proud of it but those women just wanted his money. Now, at least people will remember him for the accomplishments he enjoyed the most.”

  Garret was amused at how well she knew Pops. He would love the commotion and the narrative of his sexual activities being shouted across the room. To think, he suspected her of being just like those women. It just proved how wrong he could be about a person. “We’ll sneak out of here in about an hour. Can you stay out of trouble until then?”

  “That depends … Are there any more of your grannies running around here?”

  “Don’t drink anything until we get home. I intend to take full advantage of your inebriation. See if you can sit here and behave.”

  She sat in the corner of the couch crossed her legs and saluted him using two fingers. Her playful mood lifted his spirits. She was the reason he survived this painful ordeal. She comforted him when he needed it the most. She cried for him when his tears went dry. She supported him through all his duties. She had been his rock. He went to say his goodbyes to his parents so he could take her home and feel her love. He needed her in his arms to soothe the pain in his heart. One thing was certain, his sly old dog of a grandfather was laughing his ass off. Garret shook his head remembering Pops’ warning. “You’re already fucked, boy. Hannah’s under your skin and there’s no way to get an Abernathy out once you’re infected. Learn from your predecessors and surrender.” Yep, Pops was right, he was definitely fucked.