Baby Love Lite

by ANDREA SMITH

  I pulled myself up into a sitting position.

  “Tylar, you need to get to the hospital. Maggie has rallied somewhat from the coma and she's asked for you. It’s only temporary, her death is imminent, so if there's more you need to know or anything you need to say to her, this is your last chance.”

  I threw the bed covers off and went to my closet. I shrugged a pair of jeans on and pulled a sweater on over my head. I grabbed my socks and boots and sat down on the bed to put them on. Trey hadn’t moved.

  “Aren’t you going to get ready?” I asked him.

  “Sweetie, I have to stay here with Preston.”

  “Can’t we get her up and take her with us?”

  “By the time we rouse her, change her, dress her and all of the other things she needs done in the morning, it may be too late. You can do this on your own.”

  I nodded as I zipped the last boot up. I grabbed my phone and purse and was out the door and on the road in no more than ten minutes after Trey had told me the situation. I ran through the hallway at St. Matthews taking the elevator up to the ICU. As soon as I got off the elevator, Sandy was there to greet me.

  “Your mother is weak, but coherent. She wants to see you about some unfinished business. She won’t last much longer, Mrs. Sinclair.”

  “I understand, Sandy. Thanks for calling.”

  I made a hasty entrance into the ICU and to Maggie’s room. She looked much worse than she had on Friday. She had oxygen going in through tubes in her nose. Her skin had a mottled look to it almost purplish. I went to her bedside where she appeared to be dozing.

  “Maggie, I’m here. It’s Tylar.”

  Her eyes flickered open and she turned her head slightly so that I was in her line of vision. “Tylar?” she asked weakly.

  “Yes, I’m here Aunt Maggie. Did you have something that you wanted me to know?”

  “Promise me something, please,” she whispered. “Promise me that you'll have the hospital perform an autopsy after I die.”

  What a bizarre death bed request - especially from someone like Maggie who hated the thought of not looking her best.

  “Why?” I asked, confused and questioning her lucidity.

  I took my iPhone out and hit the button to record her deathbed wishes. My instincts had kicked in and told me to do so.

  “Tylar, I don’t have time to explain everything, just do it. Tell them not to look for man-made toxins but for bayou poisons. This infection isn't what they think it is. Don’t have me cremated. I want to be buried next to my baby in Indiana. There’s the rest of your money in my purse that they checked in over at the jail. It'll pay for my burial arrangements. Don’t let them know you're not my daughter, Tylar. You have to be my official next of kin. Your husband will confirm that if you ask him.”

  Her voice was getting raspy and she took a break breathing in her oxygen.

  “What about my mother? What about Marla?”

  “He poisoned her, too,” she whispered weakly.

  “Who - who poisoned her?”

  “Matthew did. He poisoned her and now he's poisoned me. Your mama is buried at the cemetery south of Jackson, Mississippi where our parents are buried. The Renaud family crypt is there.”

  She was rasping again and stopped to breathe in more oxygen. “You have them get you her death record. There wasn’t no autopsy done on her. There should've been to prove what Matthew had done to her. Miss Trinity LaFleur must have evidence or something. I know she prepared Marla for burial. Your mama was buried with your caul. You find Miss Trinity you hear? I promised Marla I'd give Trinity those jewelry boxes your daddy gave her after she died. She said it was the only way that I'd be safe. I wanted to keep that jewelry for myself, so I never did what I promised Marla. Miss Trinity is a midwife living in Concordia Parish. She delivered you, Tylar. She can fill you in. Anyone in Vidalia will know her.”

  I was confused by all that she was telling me. It sounded like crazy talk. What the hell was a ‘caul’? Was this one final way that Maggie was going to fuck with me before she died? Why would I believe or trust her at this point? Why should I even care? It sounded bizarre. Her story had a flavor of voodoo or witchcraft. I hadn’t seen that about her growing up. It was if she could read my mind on her death bed.

  “You do as I ask, Tylar, and you'll put your mama’s killer away. You find your daddy. Judge Tylar will help you, if need be. You let him know it was his wife and her friend that paid Matthew all of that money. When she died, the money stopped. Your mama loved you and that's the God’s honest truth. I never did. I’m sorry, I wish that I had, but by the time you were born, I was just too fucked up. Please tell Daniel that I loved him.”

  She breathed her last breath as her eyes closed. The screen that had been beeping suddenly flat-lined into one constant audio tone. A nurse came in right away and ushered me out.

  “Aren’t you going to call a ‘Code Blue’ or something?” I asked.

  “Your mother had a DNR order. It’s what she wanted. She’s at peace now. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  I wasn’t about to mention that my loss had occurred twenty-one years ago. It made sense to continue playing the daughter role for now.

  “I don’t want her body moved until my husband gets here,” I said. “My mother left explicit instructions with me. Let me remind you that I'm her next-of-kin. She has no one else.”

  I called Trey at home immediately. My hands were shaking.

  “Tylar,” he said as soon as he picked up.

  “Trey, I need you here now. Maggie is gone. Please drop Preston at Gina’s and get to the hospital. There's something that you need to see, immediately. I need a lawyer.”

  Trey was at my side in less than an hour. I'd managed to have my way with the nursing staff. Sandy had returned to the jail to start the process of releasing Maggie’s personal effects to her next-of-kin, which to her belief, was me. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was which is what I needed to ask Trey. Did a niece trump a half-brother as far as next-of-kin?

  Trey and I went into the chapel located on the same floor as the ICU. Thankfully no one else was in there. I played the video for him of Maggie’s deathbed conversation.

  “Tylar, I don’t see any problem in requesting the autopsy. It's customary for the hospital to do that in cases where the patient has been hospitalized at that particular hospital. Given her young age, I don’t believe that they'll be reluctant to accommodate. We can assure them that there's no concern about malpractice where they're concerned, that our suspicion lies in a totally different direction.”

  “Good,” I said relieved that we would get past the first request Maggie had made.

  “Here’s the thing though, Tylar. I’m not sure how to define a post mortem request to look for bayou poisons, as Maggie mentioned. It seems a bit eccentric I guess, for lack of a better word.”

  “I know,” I replied. “Can you somehow talk to the medical examiner and find out if there's a way to preserve something for later testing maybe? I think that this Miss Trinity LaFleur may fill in some of the gaps where this bayou stuff is concerned.”

  “I’ll do the best I can, sweetie,” he said, hugging me.

  “Am I legally the next of kin or is Matthew?”

  “That’s a tough one, even for me,” he replied.

  He thought for a moment, raking his hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “As long as Maggie’s contact information listed you as next-of-kin with no mention of Matthew; and provided that Matthew hasn’t been keeping tabs on her and doesn’t suddenly surface here to lay claim as next of kin, I really don’t think you have any concerns. If he truly poisoned her I doubt very much if he wants to show his face now. He probably doesn’t think under the circumstances that you'd even be in touch with her after she took Preston and headed down to Mississippi.”

  I hadn’t considered that angle of it. Matthew had been the contact for the LLC that had been established for my trust and for the house in Kentucky. Matthew must've been the guy that
Trey had talked to when he hung around the post office last year for nearly a full day in order to make contact. Matthew must also have been the ‘business partner’ she'd told Daniel about when he questioned the phone calls being made to Mississippi. Matthew was likely a co-conspirator in the abduction of Preston.

  I looked over at Trey as he was watching me figure it all out. He apparently had arrived there first.

  “We need the proof, Tylar,” he said.

  CHAPTER 34

  I had a phone call to make once Trey and I got back to the apartment. I pulled Daniel’s number up in my phone’s contact list. I hoped that he hadn’t changed it. I heard his voice on the other end when he answered.

  “Daniel, its Tylar Sinclair. I’m afraid that I've some bad news.”

  Once I'd broken the news to him about Maggie’s death, I filled Daniel in on the specifics concerning where she wanted to be buried; I shared with him her message that she'd loved him. He was silent for several moments.

  “I guess if she said it on her deathbed then it just might be the truth, for once,” he said solemnly.

  I explained that an autopsy was to be performed and the body would be released in a couple of days for transport to Indiana. I asked Daniel if he minded making the arrangements with a local mortuary at his end; I'd do the same here to handle the transfer of her remains to the mortuary in Indiana. I told him that we would pay the cost for everything. The cash in Maggie’s possession had turned out to be a little more than $15,000 which would more than cover it.

  “No, Tylar,” Daniel replied startling me. “I'll cover the costs for this. She's taken enough from you. I want to do this.”

  “Are you sure, Daniel? Aren’t you back in school?”

  “I held back some of the reward money you and your husband gave me, so I’m good. I’ve straightened my life around because of that money. I want to do this for Maggie, as well,” he said.

  “Well, okay then. I’ll call you as soon as I get notification that the coroner’s released her body.”

  “Sounds good,” he replied, “I’ll contact the local mortuary up here, as well and put them in touch with the county coroner’s office down there. Is there any particular reason why they're doing an autopsy?”

  “It’s what Maggie wanted. She told me that before she passed away. She felt she'd been poisoned.”

  “No shit,” he said with surprise.

  “That reminds me, Daniel. I remember you telling me that Maggie had run up your cell phone bills with calls being made to Mississippi last year?”

  “Yeah,” he scoffed, “she claimed she had some business partner down there.”

  “Is there any way that you can get those phone records? I’d like to have that phone number.”

  “Yeah, I sure can. I'll request copies of my cell phone log and get them to you. Do you think her business partner had anything to do with her death?”

  “Just making sure I cover all of the bases in carrying out her last requests.”

  I gave Daniel Trey’s office address and told him to send the cell phone records there to Trey’s attention. I assured him Trey would get to the bottom of this and I'd keep him posted on our progress.

  “I appreciate that. I know Maggie wasn't good to you. The fact you even give a damn about carrying out her dying wishes is, well, it’s impressive.”

  “She was my mother’s sister Daniel, and if what Maggie told me on her deathbed is true, I’ve a score to settle myself, on my mother’s behalf.”

  We left it that we'd be in touch with one another in the next day or two. I needed Trey at the moment. I felt vulnerable and scared with all that Maggie had told me.

  Trey was in his office; his Cell phone was on speaker mode and I recognized Tonya’s voice on the other end.

  He looked up at me and smiled; he waved for me to come in. I climbed into his lap and buried my face against his shoulder. The tears started flowing.

  “Tonya, let me call you back in thirty and we’ll continue updating my schedule.” Trey ended his call and pulled me back so that he could see my face.

  “I know, sweetheart,” he said gently, kissing away my tears. “I know it hurts, baby.” Trey lifted me from his lap and took me by the hand leading me to our room. He sat me on the bed and removed my boots and socks. “Climb under the covers, baby,” he instructed.

  I did as he said and he tucked me in. He sat beside me on the bed gently stroking my face with his fingers. He leaned over and kissed me warmly. “You’ve been through a lot these past few days, Tylar. Why don’t you take a nap while I go and pick up Preston from Gina’s? The three of us will spend a nice quiet day together. I’m having Tonya clear my calendar so we'll have the whole week together, okay?”

  “Thank you, Trey. I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby. Now close your eyes. I’ll sit here with you until you fall asleep.”

  I wasn’t sure how much later it was when I awoke. Someone was on the bed with me. Someone fussing and saying, “num-num” over and over again. Trey was sitting on the edge of the bed and Preston was crawling towards me.

  “Sorry, baby,” he said smiling. “I was trying to feed her some pureed carrots but she wants num-num.”

  “That’s okay,” I said pulling the covers back to let her in. “She’s just what I need at the moment. What time is it?”

  “It’s nearly noon. Are you getting hungry?”

  “A little bit. Have you eaten?”

  “Not yet. How about if I make some tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches?”

  “That’s my favorite comfort food,” I said smiling up at him. Trey was also just what I needed.

  “OK, then lunch will be ready as soon as Preston finishes,” he said on his way to the kitchen.

  I thought about what Maggie had said the other day when Trey and I saw her the first time about Preston vomiting every time she finished nursing from Maggie. I recalled how resistant and reluctant Preston had been when we got her back to nurse from me. Suddenly I was filled with fear at the possibility that if Maggie was being poisoned Preston may have ingested some of whatever poison it was through Maggie’s breast milk.

  I needed to stay calm at the moment. I'd discuss this with Trey to see if he thought she should've blood testing done. The problem was we didn't know what to look for as a specific poison.

  Trey returned to our room a little while later lifting a sleeping Preston from my arms to put her in her crib. I pulled my sweater on and went out to the kitchen. Trey joined me momentarily. Over lunch, I discussed my concern about having Preston tested in case Maggie had been poisoned during the period of time that Preston was with her.

  “Christ,” he said shaking his head. “How in the hell do we explain that to her pediatrician? I suppose it’s worth putting a call in to see if anything can be done when nothing is conclusive on Maggie’s assertion, at this point.”

  He looked over at my worried face and took my hand into his. “I really think the baby is fine, though, sweetie.”

  “I know Trey, but it would put my mind at ease knowing that some slow-acting poison hasn’t infiltrated one of her organs.”

  “I suppose you want me to make the call to the doctor, right?”

  “Please? I’m too embarrassed. Apparently, there’s some bayou trash amongst my mother’s siblings, it would seem. I’m too emotionally drained at the moment.”

  “Alright, baby,” he said, “but there's a call that I think you need to make yourself.”

  “What call?”

  “The call to Judge Tylar. I happen to have his cell phone number. He left all of his contact information when he phoned me at my office last week.”

  I was reluctant to make that call. What would I say? What if he didn’t like the message? What if he rejected me like a lot of others had in the course of my life? I couldn’t take a rejection like that. What if he didn’t believe me?

  “Tylar,” Trey said, watching me toss around the ‘what ifs’ in my mind.

  “I k
now. I know that it's my call to make. What do I say to him?”

  “How about: Congratulations Your Honor; it’s a girl?”

  CHAPTER 35

  It was 7:30 p.m. Monday evening. I'd cleaned the kitchen up after dinner; bathed and dressed Preston for bed; showered and put on clean pajamas. Trey was playing with Preston in the living room before Monday night football. I'd no reason to put off making the phone call to Judge Tylar.

  I took my iPhone to our bedroom and sat down on the bed. I took a deep breath and pressed the keys for the cell phone number that Judge Tylar had given Trey. I recognized his voice when he answered his phone.

  “Judge Tylar - this is Trey Sinclair’s wife. We ran into each other at the courthouse last week in Baton Rouge?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Sinclair, I remember. What can I do for you?”

  Holy shit, here goes nothing.

  “I recently learned that my birth name was Tylar Jamie Renaud. I was raised as Tylar Jamie Preston around Louisville, Kentucky. I was born in Louisiana, on July 14, 1990. My mother’s name was Marla Renaud. I was told by my aunt, who just passed away, that you're my father.”

  There was dead silence on the other end of the phone for several moments. I'd probably shocked the hell out of him.

  “Hello? Judge, are you still there?”

  “I knew it. I knew it the moment I saw you that you were Marley’s daughter. My God, you're the picture of her. Every bit as beautiful as my sweet Marley,” he said. The emotion was evident in his voice.

  “I do have the same amber-colored eyes as you, though,” I said, putting it out there. “I was told that my mother had green eyes.”

  “What do you mean, you were told? Where's your mother? Where's Marley?”

  Oh, God. He'd no clue about any of this.

  “I don’t remember my mother, Judge. She died before I was a year old.”

  “Dead? How's that possible? She'd only be what 39 or 40 years old now?"

  I explained to him what Maggie had told Trey and I about Matthew Renaud and the night he presented my mother to the judge at his bachelor party in New Orleans. It was the night that I'd been conceived. I mentioned the part about the pearl necklace and earrings and my mother telling Maggie that the judge had told her that he loved her. He listened intently, never interrupting to confirm or deny. I ended the story with her death, though I wasn’t sure of the exact date.