by Mary Deal
Late September into October closes the hottest season of the year across the Central Valley. The end of October would bring with it heavier rain, a cooler evening chill and pheasant hunting season.
Moonlight shown down between cloud drifts. The levee roads in the Delta were a dangerous place to drive, especially in tule fog or downpour. The memory of her drunken parents deaths, plunging into eighteen feet of river water, with innocent little Starla in the back seat, would always remain as a caution about navigating the narrow and dangerous levees.
As Huxley drove, Sara finally recognized the red reflectors on stakes at the sides of her driveway. Reflectors were essential to identify exactly where the driveway was when the ground-hugging tule fog set in as low oozing drifts of white.
The Talbot House sign, another artistic creation by Daphine Whelan, was installed mostly for their guests' ease in finding the location, but became a known highway marker to everyone in the Delta.
The familiar crunch of gravel began as they drove off the levee and down the sloping driveway north of Courtland. Tires on the gravel had a welcoming rural tone to them. She sighed with relief. They were home.
Huxley grabbed her luggage and they hurried inside. “Daphine's staying in Walnut Grove.” His grin was all-telling. “At Pierce's house.”
“How convenient.” Sara was also being silly. Of course, Daphine would be out of the house to allow them privacy during their first night home. Daphine had moved in just after Talbot House was refurbished. She was the Secretary-Treasurer for the Orson Talbot Foundation. Daphine and Esmerelda managed the charitable business when Sara traveled.
Sara and Huxley spent the next few hours as usual after being apart, sequestered, making love and renewing commitments to each other. Neither could sleep. After a while, they went to the kitchen for a late night snack and light talk about work and plans.
“I hope our next trip is free of obstacles.” Huxley's mood had become serious. “I need to see that key.”
“Why would the uncle tell the boy that someone might come for it one day?”
“That's the whole point, Sara.” He took her hand across the table. “I'm that person. I'm sure of it.”
Chills ran down Sara's arms. That Huxley might have heard of a lead to his brother's remains seemed incomprehensible, given the distance in miles, culture and especially the decades. According to Palmer Dane, Rockford was the healthiest and the toughest of the group.
Because of that, he would have been the last to survive the trek through the jungle. If the key was found in a manner similar to the remains they had recently discovered, it could mean that no one in the group made it to the Ho Chi Minh Highway. That meant the remains of all the abducted medical personnel lay buried in that jungle.
In a quiet moment, Sara sensed Huxley being secretive about something. It was more of a gut feeling than anything he might have said. He usually never withheld anything, but his present mystique offered another facet of this amazing man that enticed her. Her curiosity aroused, she had to know what it was that her intuition was trying to convey but would let things play out as they always did.
After too few short days together, Huxley was due back in Sacramento. “I'll be back before the end of the week.”
Sara was anxious to see Esmerelda but first spent the next few days with Daphine getting updated on decisions for the Orson Talbot Foundation. A large swimming pool was finally installed in the back field and a grand Spring season opening for children's swimming lessons needed to be planned. Between phone calls to insurance companies for coverage of the public using a private pool, Esmerelda squeezed in a call to say she planned a nice dinner for Huxley and Sara should get over there the next afternoon.
Esmerelda Talbot had finally completed her latest project, that of joining the two rear cottages on her hospice property into one larger home. She had designed a ranch style house, reminiscent of the Delta of yesteryear, albeit with an upscale image. She no longer had to climb a long flight of stairs to get into the main residence that sat up front at the foot of the levee. Her ever faithful hospice Director and head nurse, Fredrik Verner, had been allowed to move into that house. His vacating two rooms in the main patient building allowed for additional much needed patient space.
The entire ten acre River Hospice facility teemed with activity and looked more picturesque than ever; a green flower filled oasis surrounded by dusty crop fields laying fallow in anticipation of winter planting.
It was Esmerelda's and her deceased husband's dream project to establish a hospice. It became all and more than they had hoped for. Esmerelda admitted that she ached deep inside that Orson could not be alive to see their plans manifest.
She hid much sadness, not allowing it to interfere with day-to-day management responsibilities. She intended to make the most of her life, not the worst of it forced on her. Esmerelda was wise enough to never buckle under. She would right the wrongs with a positive outlook and deeds.
Yet, one of Esmerelda's longings had not come true, that of finding her daughter's remains in Vietnam. Though Esmerelda was getting up in years, she never let it show. She kept her hair dyed black, as she teasingly put it, to project a motivated persona. She planned to accompany Huxley's next trek back into the jungle. Sara would be going, too, providing visas were authorized again. Sara sponsored Esmerelda from the first trip since the government would not, due to her age. She and Esmerelda had proven to be valuable assets to the team. It was Esmerelda's keen eyes that spotted that metal shining in the dirt. Neither she nor Esmerelda should be turned down. Huxley had previously warned that they both may not be approved again by the Vietnamese government. Too, maybe JPAC would have something to say about it now.
Sara had toured Esmerelda's new home with its open and spacious layout. “You have room to move around in here.”
The main farm house that fronted the property had been small and crowded, her furniture crammed into every corner and nook. In her new place, she was able to truly decorate with her choice antiques and evidently had a lot of fun doing it.
“Didn't take long at all.” Esmerelda seemed pleased with herself but in a teasing way. “A couple of the Hispanic laborers working my gardens had a relative who received a contractor's license. I took a chance, and as you can see….” She gestured around the room with a sweeping motion.
Daphine's magnificent art hung strategically placed on every wall. She could produce such wonderful creations and every piece different. Her selection of art for Esmerelda's home reflected Esmerelda's personality. It was Daphine who hung her art at Talbot House a few years earlier for the grand opening. It was Daphine who knew how and where to place art to best exhibit its qualities and make sales, and sell she did.
In Esmerelda's living room, a beautiful old étagère held numerous pictures of hers and Orson's wedding and many of Betty that Esmerelda evidently had stored away.
In a couple of photos, Betty wore military issue clothes with the collar opened at the throat. She wore a round floppy cloth hat. A closer look said the photo was one that Sara had seen years earlier on the MIA site on the Internet. It was small but included a background of lush greenery. The corner part of a crudely constructed amalgamated building and strange looking tree nearby could have been photographed on the base in Vietnam. Sara felt a pang of sadness. The Vietnam jungle was reclaiming the land where Esme's daughter spent her last days. Esmerelda suffered through the heartache of two missing loved ones; first her daughter, then her husband. Yet, Esmerelda was determined not to pass from this lifetime without also finding Betty's remains.
Chapter 57
Esmerelda poured juice over ice in vintage glasses from the 1950s. “Thanks for sharing your seven-juice cooler recipe, Sara.” It was a tropical drink concoction Sara learned while living in Puerto Rico. “Thanks to you for educating me about tropical fruits, we have aloha spirit in this drink today.” She paused to take a sip and savor. “I'm coming over to spend some time with you on Kauai one of these days. I wa
nt to learn the hula.” Then she turned a circle in the middle of the room. “And thanks for this lovely purple mu'u mu'u dress too.” She was expressing a truly exuberant moment. Being playful, Sara wore another floral Hawaiian dress, this one in lavender so she and Esmeralda wouldn't clash.
They laughed and enjoyed small talk till the conversation turned to the cases in which the Orson Talbot Foundation was involved or had solved. Orson's remains being found right there on the property that he and Esmerelda once owned, and the anguish Esmerelda experienced, was what triggered Sara's brainstorm to establish the Foundation in his name. No way could Esmerelda not let herself be a part of that organization. Despite the hospice being an incredibly complicated and busy place, she clung to her position as Executive Director of the Foundation and did a magnificent job.
“I invited your sister to join us too.” That was Esmerelda's way of referring to Daphine. “Since Huxley's passing through, I kind of wanted us four to reunite… before you go traipsing off again.” She laughed, meaning the comment to be taken lightly. She was in such a light-hearted mood.
Someone knocked at the front door, out of sight from the kitchen, and left open to catch some autumn breeze.
“Yoo-hoo!” Like her art, Daphine's voice had a special quality and clarity. The screen door opened before Esmerelda could react. “It's only me.” Daphine walked in without waiting for anyone to greet her. As usual, she wore a tasteful floral capri outfit and stacked heels, all apropos considering her flair for setting clothing trends among the local folk. Who knew better how to best set an image than that creative woman? Her brown hair was lightened and streaked. “Had it done yesterday afternoon.” She primped the side of her hair when she saw Sara and Esmerelda curiously eyeing something different about her.
Sara had been back in the Delta more than a week. She and Daphine had seen one another at various times. Huxley passing through twice in the span of two weeks was reason for a celebration. Esmerelda insisted on hosting her returning friends. With a lifelong reputation as a gourmet cook, she sometimes joked about a lack of opportunities to prepare meals for groups.
While waiting Huxley's arrival, each helped in the kitchen, drank the juice cocktail and chatted excitedly like three teenage girls.
“The world has suddenly found my art.” Daphine's voice carried a twang of self-appreciation and she deserved it.
“By now, you've seen her Faces of the World collection, haven't you?” Esmerelda's face lit up.
When Talbot House was remodeled and ready for occupancy, Daphine was offered the use the entire attic as her painting studio and gallery. She rotated her finished art on many of the walls throughout the four-story Victorian among Sara's collected paintings of Delta scenes. With most of the first floor of Talbot House being available for public use, Daphine was able to stop paying rent in Locke and closed that gallery.
“My—expanding—Faces of the World collection.” Daphine enunciated proudly. She had painted Asian portraits which were purchased by a well-to-do family in the Delta. Word spread from that purchase. Daphine now had difficulty keeping up with demand for portraits in all ethnicities.
“Now you'll have your Chinese portrait collection showing in Hang Seng.” Sara always made sure she caught up on all the news. Her closest friends were her life now. “How great is that?”
“Great enough to enable visiting my daughter when I go there for the Expo.” That brought a round of joyous conversation. “This is big… big!”
Daphine's daughter, Jade, had visited the Delta only twice since marrying and moving to China. She seldom wrote. Daphine once asked Sara's opinion of the tone of a couple of letters. Though Sara would not voice such a strong opinion, it seemed Jade was only keeping in touch from having a guilty conscience about deserting her mother. Jade, being half Chinese, married into a prominent Chinese family in Hang Seng, resulting in learning a new culture and forsaking old friends. Or, perhaps life there was simply better than she might have had in the Delta with a single mother who struggled to make a living from her early art career.
Sara could find no explanation in the brief non-informative messages. Whatever the reason for the sporadic mail, at least Jade had chosen not to break contact all together.
Daphine turned to Sara. “You love to travel. What do you think of this plan?” She looked dubious yet excited at the same time. “I want to do a series of faces about people in isolated lands. I was thinking about traveling to different continents, scouting around and really getting up close and personal with the natives.”
Esmerelda dropped her spatula. “Natives? Where exactly do you plan to find models for this new art?”
“Borneo, for one.” Daphine waited a few moments for a reaction but saw nothing but shock. “Or some of those remote South Pacific islands. I've been studying those people, their cultures. Their faces would make a most exciting addition to my Collection. Maybe we three could haunt a few of those places, just because.”
Just then, someone knocked at the door. “Hello, ladies.” Huxley's voice rustled through Sara's feelings for him. A wave of happiness washed over her. Esmerelda didn't move away from the stove. Daphine stayed seated on the stool at the counter. Both knew the right person to welcome their very special friend.
Sara rushed to the door. Huxley had opened the screen and stepped inside. Surprisingly, Palmer Dane stood right behind, holding the screen door and waiting to enter. The porch light made his white hair gleam. While hugging and looking over Huxley's shoulder, Sara noticed that Palmer wore a smart gray pin-striped suit and blue tie. She stepped back. Huxley also wore a handsome navy blue suit and complimenting red tie, which meant both came directly from a meeting somewhere. Huxley grabbed her shoulder and quickly put a finger to his lips, admonishing her to be quiet. Palmer, too, remained quiet, but leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
Strangely, Huxley's expression was solemn, his eyes sad. He acted that way when his mind was full. She wondered when he'd be going home to Oregon like he planned. Something seemed amiss.
Huxley carried a letter-sized manila envelope. He had hugged her all too long. She felt something hard inside his interior breast pocket. When they separated, Sara placed her hand against his jacket front and the hard object inside the pocket. Huxley smiled sadly and offered her the envelope. Then he put a hand on hers as if to stop her from opening it. His eyebrows pinched together. He shook his head and put a finger to his lips again, admonishing her not to make a sound. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautifully grained flat wooden box, something like one in which to store business cards.
Palmer stepped inside and quietly closed the screen door behind him. Huxley held the box between the three of them and glanced over her shoulder, as if he didn't want the others to see. What could he be up to? Sara already knew the little box would not be an engagement ring. It was too flat and not something in which jewelry would be presented. The week earlier, they talked about announcing their engagement, but decided to first have their rings made to match. Suddenly, the feeling of Huxley keeping a secret that her intuition had prompted days earlier was about to play out, and Palmer being present was part of it.
Huxley made sure the box faced her and again tapped his lips with an index finger, warning her not to react. Then he slowly opened the box. What Sara saw caused her to put a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping loud enough for Esmerelda and Daphine to hear. Goosebumps traipsed over her body. She gazed into Huxley's eyes. Hers must have been as wide open as his. The meaning was clear. The three stood for a moment before Huxley closed the box and tucked it away, reached for the envelope again, and then all walked into the kitchen.
Chapter 58
Esmerelda welcomed Huxley with a jovial hug. “You're our reason to celebrate today,” Her smile teased. “Did you bring manju?” When Huxley would return from his trips to the Far East, he always brought her the delicate authentic Japanese cookies filled with bean cake. He had once brought her the recipe, which she made from time t
o time, but the cookies had nearly become a ritual.
Huxley and Daphine exchanged squeezes but he didn't miss a beat. “No, Esme. I brought something better.” He paused like he didn't know where to take the conversation. Then he introduced Palmer to Daphine.
Palmer took her hand in both of his and looked her straight in the eyes, knowing that Daphine was a special part of this group too. Then Palmer hugged and kissed Esmerelda. Daphine handed them glasses of juice.
Huxley, instead, sat his on the countertop. “Esme, you have to decide if you want this surprise before or after dinner.”
Palmer sipped, quietly focused. He held his glass with both hands, which were shaking.
“Why delay the pleasure? Show me now. We can enjoy whatever desert you brought with coffee after dinner.” She turned to fully face him and evidently hadn't noticed that Huxley carried only an envelope. “It's one of your desert surprises, isn't it? I told you I was cooking so you wouldn't have brought the main course. So where is it?”
Daphine chuckled, but Sara could only force a smile so she wouldn't spoil the intensity of Huxley's surprise. This was critical.
“So can you get away from that stove?” Huxley started to move toward the open living room with the manila envelope.
Esmerelda was all smiles until she noticed the envelope. She lowered the flame under the pot of soup, put on the lid, laid the cooking spoon and pot holders aside, and untied her apron. She had grown accustomed to Huxley's' little surprises. She loved him for caring so much for their friendship.
Daphine brought the pitcher of juice on a tray and placed the tray on the coffee tabletop, but Huxley moved the tray to the side. Sara, Daphine and Palmer stood nearby. Esmerelda looked quite perplexed when Huxley took a seat on the coffee table directly in front of her. He leaned toward her till their knees touched. Her expression sobered, her gaze questioned.