The Will of Wisteria

by Denise Hildreth Jones

  She picked up the phone and dialed. The locksmith was there in an hour. Nate wasn’t. Too bad for Nate.

  When Elizabeth got home, she went straight to her phone, praying the red light would be blinking. Praying. Even though she didn’t believe a God existed.

  She wanted a message, any message, that the Executor had been located. She had hoped her threat to fire the private investigator had been incentive enough to get him off his duff. She had already fired one. She’d have no problem doing it again.

  No red flashing light. No message.

  She sighed, picked up her keys, and left again.

  A few minutes later she pulled into the parking lot of Hominy Grill, with its large mural of a smiling woman painted on the side of the building. This was the best place in Charleston for comfort food. And right now, Elizabeth needed comforting.

  She took a seat at a wooden table and waited for Aaron. He entered a few minutes later, clean shaven, wearing camouflage pants and a black sweatshirt.

  “Why’d you shave? It’s Sunday.”

  “I shave because I go to church on Sunday.”

  “You go to church?”

  He shook his head at her. “Yes, Elizabeth. I’ve gone to church for the last eight years.”

  “I never knew that.”

  “You never ask.”

  What did that mean? She pushed aside the possibilities. She had her own agenda here. “I have friends, don’t I?”

  Aaron frowned at her. “What?”

  “Friends. You know, buddies. People you hang out with, talk to. Friends. I have them, don’t I?”

  “No,” he replied.

  “No? Are you telling me I don’t have friends?”

  “Can you think of any? Besides me, that is?”

  “Yes, there’s . . . well, there was Diane.”

  Aaron laughed. The server appeared, and he ordered the fried green tomato BLT and a Coke. Elizabeth asked for two eggs over light, grits, bacon, and wheat toast, with orange juice. Aaron raised his eyebrows. “What happened to the Bran Queen?” Elizabeth sneered. “What are you, the breakfast police? Never mind the snide comments. Answer my question.”

  “Diane was never your friend,” Aaron said. “She couldn’t stand you. She thought her husband liked you, remember?”

  “Really? I didn’t remember that. Well, maybe that’s why they got a divorce, if he had a fondness for women other than Diane.”

  “They’re divorced?”

  “Yeah, I found that out on Friday when I tried to call her.”

  They sat in silence for a while. The waitress brought Aaron’s Coke and her orange juice. She took a long sip and contemplated the pulp clinging to the inside of the glass. “So really, you don’t think I have any friends?”

  “You have to make yourself friendly to be a friend, Elizabeth. It’s not one of your strong suits.”

  The waitress came back with their meals, and she lowered her voice. “Now you’re saying I’m not even friendly.”

  He picked up his sandwich to take a bite. “Pretty much.”

  “You know that’s just sad,” she retorted.

  “You’re right. It is sad.”

  “Not me, Aaron. It’s sad that you and Ainsley Parker and my entire family judge me the way you do. You all look at me as some pathetic creature because I’m not married or don’t have children. But that is what I choose.”

  “Good for you. But nobody’s judging, just observing.”

  Elizabeth pawed through her grits in the same way she was pawing through her thoughts. None of it was coming out too pretty.

  “Ainsley had the audacity to tell me I was bitter. Mary Catherine told me I was mean. What would you like to say, Aaron? Go on, get it off your chest. Surely there is some pronouncement you would like to make over me.”

  “You need to tone it down, Elizabeth.”

  She knew he was right, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “What? Am I embarrassing you, Aaron?”

  He leaned over and placed his hand on top of hers. “You either quiet down, or you’re going to finish this meal by yourself. I don’t know what is happening with you, but you’re getting completely out of control.”

  Elizabeth felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her father use to scold her, and she hated it. In her opinion, you only had a right to scold people if you were willing to be there when they needed you. And no one had been willing to do that.

  “If I’m so out of control, why don’t you just leave?” she seethed through her clenched teeth.

  Aaron removed his hand from on top of hers, picked up his napkin, and calmly wiped his mouth. He signaled to the waitress. “Can I get a to-go box?”

  She brought the box in record time.

  He packed up his sandwich and took another drink of his Coke. “This is why you don’t have friends, Elizabeth, because your entire life is about nothing but you. If you’d stop thinking about yourself long enough, you’d realize maybe someone else actually has Something to offer. Ainsley Parker is not a bad person. People around this city do nothing but talk about what a difference she has made with that program and how great she is to work with. You just never get pleasant enough for anybody to like you, let alone love you. I’m probably your only friend, Elizabeth, and sometimes even that is questionable. But it’s nobody’s fault but your own.”

  chapter twenty-seven

  It had been a nearly flawless day, but Jeffrey couldn’t expect it to last. One phone call, one voice mail message, and reality came crashing in again. Jacob had developed an infection.

  “I’m sorry, son,” he said for the third time as he pulled on a clean shirt and rummaged in the closet for a jacket. “But I have to go to the hospital.”

  “It’s okay, Dad.” Matthew watched him with solemn eyes.

  “I called Gretchen. She’ll be over in just a few minutes.”

  “I can stay by myself, Dad. I have before.”

  “Yeah, but you shouldn’t have.” Jeffrey tousled the boy’s brown hair. “You’ll be all right until she gets here?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Okay.” He kissed his son on the top of the head. “I—I love you,” he stammered.

  “Love you too, Dad,” Matthew replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  All the way to the hospital Jeffrey’s mind lurched back and forth between Jacob and Matthew. Except for Elizabeth’s icy reception and sudden departure, the day at the plantation could not have been better. After dinner Jeffrey and Esau had taken Matthew down to paddle around the marsh. Matthew and Esau had picked out every pelican, loggerhead sea turtle, wood stork, and heron—and a few odd creatures they just made up names for.

  He had forgotten how much he loved the place. How he and his friends use to row out to the ocean and spend hours catching fish, swimming, laughing. Jeffrey felt as if he were starting to learn how to live again.

  “We’ve worn you out, I’m sure,” Jeffrey told Esau as they tied up the boat and headed back to the house.

  “I’ve missed the company, son.”

  The wistfulness in his tone had stopped Jeffrey cold. “Esau, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t even stopped to think how you must be hurting over our father’s death.”

  Esau’s weathered face crinkled up. “Your daddy was my closest friend.”

  “We’ll come by more often. I promise. I’ll bring Matthew. He loves it here. Forgive me, please, for forgetting you.”

  The memory of Esau’s face caused Jeffrey a deep pang of remorse.

  He had let down so many people in his life. Including his eldest son, Jacob.

  He heard the screams coming from ICU before he even rounded the corner, and he broke into a run. Now that the intubation tube had been removed, Jacob’s groans had turned to wails, and with every scream Jeffrey felt a stabbing pain in his own chest.

  One of the doctors turned as Jeffrey entered. “We need to scrape the burns, Dr. Wilcott,” she said in a low voice. “But the boy’s mother won’t leave
.”

  He went to Claire and put an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, Claire, just wait out here. Let them do what they need to do.”

  The duty nurse, Jeffrey’s spy, watched as they came out of the room. “She never leaves, Dr. Wilcott. I try to make her; really I do. But she won’t even take a break.”

  “I know, Doris. It’s okay. But I do want you to get me a cot for his room. I want her to have a place to lie down. No more sleeping in a chair, okay?”

  “I’ll have them get it right away.”

  Jeffrey settled Claire in a chair in the family waiting room and got her a cup of coffee from the machine. Then he called home. “Gretchen, I need you to stay there with Matthew tonight. I have a situation here at the hospital that I just don’t feel like I can leave this evening.” He could tell she didn’t believe him, but he promised her weekend pay. She agreed, and he hung up.

  The doctors were finished treating Jacob, and an additional shot of morphine had put him out for a while. Jeffrey settled Claire back down in the chair next to Jacob’s bed until the cot arrived.

  Dr. Moss exited the room, and Jeffrey walked out with him.

  “What have you been able to find?”

  “He’s got a Staphylococcus infection. It’s produced a high fever, which isn’t good for any of this. But right now we have his blood pressure steady. We’ve upped his electrolytes, given him a higher powered antibiotic. His breathing is still good, so we haven’t felt the need to intubate him again. He doesn’t need that additional stress right now.”

  Jeffrey blinked back tears.

  “I’m really sorry. We’re doing everything we can. We just didn’t need something additional to have to deal with.”

  “Does Claire know?”

  “She knows there is an infection, yes. She’s made it clear she wants us being completely honest with her.”

  “I’m sure she did.” Jeffrey turned and looked at her through the glass window. The resignation on her face made it pretty clear to him that she knew it wasn’t going as well as any of them hoped. He turned back around and patted the doctor on the shoulder. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “We’ll keep plowing away, Jeffrey. Just hang in there. I’ll be here all night checking in on him. And you.”

  When Jeffrey entered the room, he saw a small cot situated on the other side of the bed. Good. At least Claire could get a little sleep.

  She looked up at him. “He’s such a good kid, you know.”

  He didn’t know.

  “He always makes straight As. He is an amazing baseball player. The girls love him. I always tell him that’s because he is so kind and smart and—”

  “I’m still that,” Jacob said.

  Claire jumped up and walked over to the side of the bed. “Hey, baby, can you see Mom?” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

  “Yeah, and I can hear you too.” His voice slurred from the drugs.

  She laughed softly and sniffed. “There’s someone here to see you.” She reached a hand in Jeffrey’s direction.

  Jeffrey shook his head. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t even know what to say. Claire smiled and nodded, encouraging him. He walked slowly over to the edge of the bed and positioned himself in Jacob’s view.

  “Hey, Jacob.”

  Claire leaned over the bed. “Do you know who this is, Jacob?”

  Jacob’s eyes shifted from her face back to Jeffrey’s. “He looks kind of like me.”

  Claire laughed softly again. “Yeah, he does, doesn’t he? It’s your father, Jacob.”

  Jacob’s eyes opened wider, taking in Jeffrey’s face. A faint light seemed to come on inside him. “Dad?”

  Jeffrey swallowed down his own tears. “Yeah, son. It’s me. It’s your father.”

  “It’s about time,” Jacob said.

  Claire and Jeffrey both laughed together. “You’re right. It’s way past time.” Jeffrey reached down and gently laid his hand underneath Jacob’s bandaged arm and bent down close to him. “Son, I need to ask your forgiveness. I’m so sorry for not being there. For not seeing you grow up. For not being a father to you. Please forgive me.”

  “I’ve already done that, Dad.” Jacob’s frail voice filled the room. His eyes grew heavier and closed.

  “You rest now, son. Your mother and I will be right here when you wake up.”

  Claire reached out and touched him on the shoulder. “That’s the first time he’s spoken, Jeffrey. He hasn’t done anything but scream and moan since all of this happened. It’s a miracle. It honestly is a miracle.”

  Jeffrey gazed down at the boy’s ravaged face. There was so much to say. So much he wanted to know. So much he wanted to learn. He prayed for one more moment. Just one more moment. “With as much morphine as he is on, it is a miracle. And that’s a word doctors are seldom willing to use.”

  “I’m going to walk outside and make a few phone calls now that he’s settled. My phone won’t work in here. Would you mind staying with him until I get back?”

  “Not at all. I want to be with him, as long as you don’t mind.” Claire shook her head and left him there with his son. In the deepest part of his soul, he ached to take his son in his arms and hold him and kiss him and tell him how much he loved him. He felt that somehow, if he could only do that, it would all be okay. He leaned his body down over Jacob’s, trying to get as close to him as possible yet not wanting to cause him any more pain.

  “I love you, son. I love you with all of my heart.”

  And then over the noise of the heart and blood pressure monitors came Jacob’s words, slow and deliberate. “I love you too, Dad. I’ve always loved you.”

  Without warning, the monitors began to go wild. Alarms sounded. The numbers on the BP monitor began dropping rapidly.

  In a rush and a scramble, Jeffrey found himself shuttled out of the room. Doctors and nurses swarmed around his son’s bedside, shouting orders, taking no notice of the burns. They had only one concern—saving his life.

  And then he heard it. The sound he dreaded. The droning tone of a heart monitor flatlining.

  He looked around and realized Claire hadn’t returned. He didn’t want her here. Not to see this. Not to witness how their son had to be pounded and shocked. But she’d hate him forever if he didn’t get her.

  He started off in a daze down the hall. Jabbed the down button on the elevator, then cursed its delay and tore down the stairs, adrenaline pumping wildly. She could be anywhere. He burst through the front automatic doors and turned in every direction, hoping to find her on the sidewalk. She wasn’t there.

  He ran back up to the ICU, and at last he saw her, outside on a patio beyond the waiting room. He tore through the door.

  One look at his face was enough to tell her everything. She ran toward him, tried to push past. He grabbed her. “You don’t want to go in there, Claire.”

  “Let me go, Jeffrey! That’s my baby!”

  “Claire, Claire,” he murmured. “Listen to me. Listen to me.”

  She had already started sobbing. “What? What happened?”

  “His blood pressure crashed, and he went into cardiac arrest. Trust me, they are doing everything they possibly can. But you don’t want to see what they’re having to do.” He spoke this last sentence so softly, so compassionately, that it sounded like someone else, even to his own ears.

  Her words were barely discernible through her tears. “Just let me get to him.”

  “I will. You just have to know you can’t go in the room.”

  Back in the ICU someone had closed the door and all of the curtains to Jacob’s room, but it was evident they were still working feverishly.

  Claire paced, her lips moving with each step. Jeffrey was certain she was praying. Thirty minutes passed. Jeffrey knew that with each minute his son was getting farther and farther away. He wanted to crawl in the corner and weep. He wanted to scream. But Claire deserved his sanity.

  Finally, Dr. Moss opened the door. His face said it all. Their bo
y was gone.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “We did everything we could.” He turned to Jeffrey. “Give the nurses a few minutes, okay?”

  Jeffrey knew what he meant. Claire didn’t need this as the last image of their son.

  He went to her, wrapping his arms around her. She stayed in his embrace, standing there completely silent, for almost fifteen minutes. She never moved. She didn’t cry. She just let him hold her.

  Two nurses finally came through the door, and before they could stop her, she removed herself from Jeffrey’s arms and went straight through the door.

  He let her go. And he let her go alone. She had raised him all by herself. She deserved to say good-bye by herself.

  Jeffrey had finally talked Claire into letting her friends take her home. At last Jeffrey was alone with his son.

  He walked to the bed. All the noise had ceased; the monitors were gone. Silence hovered over him like a shroud.

  Jeffrey had few memories of Jacob’s life—disconnected images, like scenes from a movie he had never seen all the way through. He was so grateful he had at least shown up for the ending.

  He pushed the iron bed rail down and leaned over his son, reaching his hands underneath the gauze-wrapped body. At last, Jeffrey held his son. He gripped him tightly and lavished his bandaged face with the kisses of a father. He let his tears fall, knowing they would not hurt now; they would only heal.

  There on that hospital bed, Jeffrey held his son for the first time in years, just as he had prayed for the opportunity to do.

  part 3

  February

  chapter twenty-eight

  The cold air burned Elizabeth’s lungs as she ran. She could smell wood smoke from the chimneys in the homes along the Battery. The scent brought a wave of nostalgia surging up in her. Real wood-burning fireplaces, like the ones at the plantation. She tried to stifle the thought.

  As dawn broke she thought how her entire life had changed. She was running in the morning hours now, because sheer exhaustion kept her home in the evenings. But getting out of bed to run was becoming increasingly difficult.