“Ladies, we have a guest. This is Dr. Leighton, who’s en route back to Bloomington. He has graciously agreed to share our dessert while waiting out the storm. Doctor, these are my sisters, Claudia and Gracelyn, and our dear friend Lucy Sims. We are blessed to have Lucy tend to our menfolk on weekends. You’ll be interested to know she is a very skilled nurse.”
“It’s wonderful to meet all of you.”
Gracelyn spoke eagerly. “You can’t chance this weather, Doctor. You did the right thing by stopping here.”
“Oh, yes!” Claudia echoed. “It would be too treacherous to try to go anywhere on a night like this. I’m sure Rebecca told you, we’ve got plenty of room, so you’re no trouble at all.”
“Would you ladies mind calling me Randall?”
“Oh, not at all, Randall,” Claudia chimed in. “With all that moisture out there, we had better offer you something hot as well. Tea or coffee?”
“Tea would be wonderful.”
“I’ll reheat the kettle, just you make yourself comfortable. And you will help us polish off our dessert?”
“I’d be delighted.” Leighton smiled as Claudia scurried into the kitchen. By the time she reappeared with a tray, Rebecca had reclaimed her seat at the head of the table while Leighton sat to her right, next to Lucy. The conversation resumed at a clip, covering tornadoes and hailstorms predicted throughout the region. A loud thunderclap made everyone pause. Without discussion, Rebecca realized that settled it. Randall Leighton would be their guest for the night. The confusion in her mind was louder than the din of several voices chattering and the intermittent rumbling of thunder. However, she joined in the polite conversation, wanting everything to appear normal.
Rebecca turned to Lucy, who stared entranced at the handsome doctor. “Perhaps you should settle in here tonight also. These storms can go on for several hours without much letup.”
Shaking her head slightly, Lucy responded, “Well, now, Rebecca, what I will do is call Earl and have him meet me here during the next lull. He can drive over in the truck, and I can leave my car here until morning, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, not at all, dearie. I believe that’s the most sensible thing to do. Claudia and Gracelyn, would you mind clearing everything away? I need to show Dr. Leighton—Randall—to his room.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Claudia’s been tidying up behind me all night as usual anyway. There’s really not much to do.”
“By all means, Rebecca. We’ll handle it. I’m sure Randall needs to get some rest after all that driving. Sleep well, Doctor.”
“Thank you all.”
“I’m a bit tired myself,” Rebecca said, in an effort to keep the conversation casual. “Lucy, let me know if Earl has any problems getting here, because we could really put you up as well. There’s a pull-out sofa in Claudia’s bedroom.”
“I think I’ll be all right, ladies. It shouldn’t take him long to get here. And you know men, he’ll fret all night if I’m not in the house.”
“Lucy, that’s so romantic.” Claudia sighed.
“Perhaps so. More likely, he’ll be worried about missing out on his breakfast.”
At that, everyone stood up from the table, the women giggling and Leighton surprised, but chuckling.
“Good night, ladies. I can’t imagine spending a more pleasant evening, bad weather notwithstanding.”
Leighton raised his hand to wave and, trailing Rebecca, reentered the hallway.
Rebecca was determined to avoid saying anything in response to his earlier declaration.
“Our guest room is small, but I hope it will be comfortable for you. You’ll have your own bathroom; I apologize; there’s only a shower stall.”
“Don’t apologize, Rebecca. It sounds fine” was Leighton’s answer.
Rebecca, uncomfortable with the silence between them and the gentle way he pronounced her name, intended to keep him talking or listening to her talk.
“There’s an alarm clock on the night table, in case you need it. We tend to be early risers, but feel free to sleep in. We’ll leave some breakfast for you.”
“I’m sure I’ll be awake, Rebecca. Thank you.”
Hearing her name again, Rebecca flushed. For the first time, climbing to the third floor seemed interminable, as though there were a thousand stairs. Opening the door to the guest room, Rebecca was aware of Leighton brushing against her as he entered.
“You won’t get much sun from this back window, but there’s a nice view of the backyard. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Rebecca.”
• • •
Dawn sunlight streaking across Rebecca’s face awakened her. Rather than bound out of bed as usual, she lay there, astonished by the eroticism of her dreams. Throughout the night, there had been no letup in the Kama Sutra of images of her with Leighton. And even now, recovering her alertness, she was sick with longing for the man.
“I’ll be damned!” Rebecca sat upright, realizing her body could easily betray her resolve to keep Leighton at a distance. She began to think there must be a way her urges would not be at cross-purposes with her other priorities. She had made a commitment to her sisters and herself to achieve freedom from their husbands, and Leighton had already unwittingly helped her in getting compromising information on the pastor’s embezzlement of church funds.
Rebecca’s feelings toward the doctor were powerful and pure, and she was unhappy thinking of further duplicity involving him. She wanted him as a lover, but how to square that with her initial dishonesty in going to see him was troubling. It could not be squared, she knew, without letting him know what she had done, and risking his turning away from her. Moving quickly now, Rebecca dressed and made her way out the back door to the greenhouse. After watering the middle row of her plants, she spent several minutes trying to identify a soil problem with her laelias. Unbeknownst to her, Leighton, awake and fully dressed, stood at the guest room window watching her.
Rebecca and Leighton arrived at the breakfast table at the same time.
“Good morning, Doctor. I’m glad you made it down for something to eat.”
Puzzled that he had not asked about her marital status, Rebecca stated matter-of-factly, “Our husbands are all ill and not able to join us.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Your own husband is bedridden?”
“Well, no. He suffers from a brain injury. I am looking into a facility where he could receive twenty-four-hour care.”
“I assumed you were a widow.”
As Leighton’s words trailed off, Claudia entered from the kitchen, carrying a tray of breakfast food.
“Good morning, Randall. Please take your seat. Gracelyn has everything ready; I’m just helping out a bit. Did you sleep well?”
“Very well, and thank you for calling me Randall. Perhaps Rebecca will begin to follow suit. This is a very grand house.”
“I’ll remember to do that now,” Rebecca said casually.
Gracelyn entered next with the coffeepot.
“Lucy get home all right, Gracelyn?”
“Earl got here pretty quick, so I imagine they did just fine. We didn’t hear anything more from them.”
Rebecca, quiet during the breakfast conversation, took the opportunity to further size up the younger man while he chatted easily with her sisters. She managed calm as he unexpectedly turned the conversation to her orchids and politely answered his questions about her business.
“This is a brisk time of year for orders, so I’m busy with those. Also, I have a problem right now with my laelias. The soil mixture isn’t quite right for several of these plants, and they’re not growing properly. So, when I should be marketing, I’m spending most of my time remixing and repotting so I can keep them blooming.”
“Rebecca is just amazing with those flowers. Why, I don’t know too many people who can grow anything so delicate,” Claudia chimed in. “Rebecca, you should take Randall out to the greenhouse before he leaves.”
&n
bsp; “I’m sure Randall needs to get back to Bloomington today, but perhaps he will accept a rain check on that.”
“Oh, Rebecca, that’s good!” Gracelyn broke in. “The poor man gets trapped overnight in a storm and now you’ll give him a ‘rain’ check.” She laughed infectiously.
“Well, I didn’t mean it quite like that. Excuse us, Randall, we can be silly sometimes. Humor relieves many of our burdens.”
“As it should. Rebecca, I’m down this way often. I’d like to call you about touring your greenhouse.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Claudia and Gracelyn did not suspect from the dialogue that anything out of the ordinary had occurred between the two, and after their meal, Rebecca casually saw Leighton to the door.
“Well, now, we can get back to normal,” Rebecca sighed, entering the kitchen where her sisters were tidying up from their breakfast and preparing the men’s meal. “Since we didn’t do our planning, we need to make sure we’re together on everything. Gracelyn, did you ask Raphaela about lending us a big boy to help us get Timothy to Briney Memorial?”
“No, I haven’t asked her yet.”
“Ask her today when you go by there, because we need to pin that down. We’ll need help with our luggage and keeping him still.”
Gracelyn nodded in understanding of her mission at the laundress’s, and proceeded in her kitchen chores.
“Should I tell her about the play?”
“I’m counting on it. Claudia, you set for this morning?”
“All set; I see Dr. Meyers at eleven-thirty to get Timothy’s sedative. Gracelyn gave me the grocery list already, so I can meet you at the produce market around noon.”
Leighton was quickly forgotten by Claudia and Gracelyn as the household’s culture of women again took shape. Gracelyn began loading her vintage Saab with soiled bed linens and other laundry and headed to Raphaela’s.
“Bye,” she called, carrying the final load as she sailed passed Claudia. Then, noting that Claudia was busy setting out an arrangement of cups and saucers, asked, “Are you looking for something?”
“No, honey. When that handsome doctor was here I was embarrassed about using those ugly dishes. Lucy’s family, but what does real company think? If we’re going to start having more people come by here, we should be using Mother’s best dishes, the Sheffields and the like. Anyway, you get going. I’ll have this all done in half an hour. You tell Raphaela about that play, it will be all over town.”
“I suspect. That woman runs her mouth. It’ll be like having a one-woman public relations vehicle. As long as she doesn’t bad-mouth me about putting Bernard away.”
“She won’t; not if we give her enough other stuff to talk about. That’s what Rebecca thinks, anyway. Bye, girl.”
Immediately after breakfast and their brief conference, Rebecca went back to her orchids, determined to make progress curing her ailing plants. Coming back inside, she walked through the house and out the front door to collect newspapers. Posted on the second floor during Gracelyn’s absence, Rebecca alternately read and fantasized about Leighton’s tall physique and handsome face.
Shaking her head abruptly, Rebecca retrieved a small pad from her pants pocket and plucked a pencil from the bun wound at the base of her neck. She began compiling a schedule of the men’s planned confinement dates, Claudia’s Sunday speeches, Gracelyn’s play rehearsals, and for revealing the Wilsons’ indiscretion to the church’s Board of Trustees. She bracketed this last entry and reflected on her earlier thoughts about Leighton. She was certain he would view her deception as betrayal, and there would be no hope for further intimacy with him. Her enthusiasm was curtailed momentarily by regret.
Rebecca soon regained her resolve. She needed this man. Her dreaming about him and her conscious yearnings consumed a good deal of her thinking. And he made it clear that he wanted her. For what, other than lust, she wasn’t entirely certain. But she was willing to risk finding out. Rebecca knew she had to do everything in her power to depose Wilson, since it was the only way she could free herself and her sisters. But for the time being, she would not use Leighton’s information. In the meantime, she would balance her head and her heart, and make sure her head was leading.
Rebecca continued with her strategizing. She decided on a tea at the Cates mansion for the churchwomen, inviting them to pray and commiserate over their ailing spouses. Her thinking was that such an activity would keep the caretaking issue alive in their minds and conversations, and bolster support for the Cates sisters’ actions toward their husbands. By the time of the tea, Bernard would have been out of the house for over two weeks. During the following week, the Cates sisters would drive to Briney Memorial to deposit Timothy.
• • •
Gracelyn arrived at Raphaela’s fully concentrating on her mission. She pulled up the driveway alongside Raphaela’s house and sat silently in her car for a few moments, breathing deeply. She was let in the side door by a large bowlegged boy who seemed to be expecting her. He immediately relieved her of her bundle.
“You have any more, ma’am?” he asked eagerly.
“Yes, in the car. Two, I think.”
“My name’s Herbert. Glad to help you.”
Gracelyn smiled warmly at the boy and handed him her keys. Just then, she noticed his left eye was unmoving.
“I don’t remember if I locked the door or not.”
The side door of the house opened and Raphaela appeared. A tall, thin woman, her long face, large black eyes, and black hair made her look mystical.
“Good morning, Gracelyn. How’s Rebecca doing?”
“Rebecca’s well. Thank you for asking. That nice young man . . . Herbert, is getting my other two bags out of the car. Is something wrong with his eye?”
“He’s blind in the one eye. In the other eye, he sees pretty good. He loses his glasses left and right. It’s too expensive for me to keep replacing them. I have to wait on the state to send the money. I can get these things finished by this evening. But you can pick them up anytime tomorrow if you’re not in a hurry.”
“Tomorrow will be fine. Raphaela, Rebecca said to ask if you could spare one of your big boys to go with us to Chicago next month. Timothy, Claudia’s husband, is going into Briney Memorial, a home up there.”
“Is that so? Has he taken a turn?”
“Yes he has. He’s wandering around at night more than he used to, and we’re afraid he’ll hurt himself. Claudia wants to see if the people at Briney can help with his drinking problem. They do well with that sort.”
Gracelyn watched carefully for Raphaela’s reaction before continuing.
“Dr. Meyers says it’s best,” she lied smoothly. “My husband, Bernard, has to go into a hospice this Saturday. He’s in the last stages of his cancer. I want him to be as comfortable as possible.”
Raphaela’s dark eyes filled with pity looking at Gracelyn.
“Oh, now, bless your heart, I know you’ve done everything you can do. It’s in the Lord’s hands now. You just stay strong and keep praying for His peace.” She paused, shook her head, and continued. “Herbert, matter of fact, is the biggest child here, so he would suit when you take Timothy in.”
“I think Herbert would be perfect. He’s so cheerful. We need help with the suitcases. He can ride along with us in Rebecca’s car. We’ll be gone a few days, and the extra pair of hands will make things go easier for us.”
“You’re staying awhile to get him settled?”
Gracelyn lied again. “Well, yes. Claudia said she’ll feel better if she gets to spend at least a day or two seeing how they’re handling him.”
“Just relax for a minute, dear. Herbert won’t be long.”
Seated at Raphaela’s kitchen table, Gracelyn listened as the energetic woman gossiped about their neighbors and church folk.
“You know those Bartleson children, they have wonderful musical talents. But I hear they can be hard to control. Probably since James left Amelia, they’ve gotten w
orse.”
“Oh, my. I didn’t know.”
“Oh, my, yes. He took off in the middle of the night for a good two weeks. He’s back now.”
“That’s good.”
“It’s good in a way. But if menfolk want to have their cake and eat it too, they may as well stay gone, I always think. He’s been running around with Viola’s niece for the better part of the year. They’ve been seen all over.”
Deciding she wouldn’t get a word in easily, Gracelyn blurted out, “Raphaela! I found the most wonderful play about Harriet Tubman, and Rebecca asked Pastor if I could put it on with the Sunday school. We’re going to have a meeting with the children Saturday evening. I was hoping you would send some of yours over.”
Raphaela looked confused by Gracelyn’s interruption, but it didn’t take her long to realize she was offering a children’s activity.
“That will be mighty fine, thank you. How many children can I send? I have five here right now.”
“I’m sure I can use all five. There are three main characters—Harriet Tubman, her husband, and the slave master—and there are a lot of other slaves, townfolk, and people that helped with the Underground Railroad.”
“Then this is really going to be a history play?”
“That would be fair to say.”
“Why, I think that’s wonderful!” Raphaela’s excitement combined with her eagerness for an evening free of children.
“Does Herbert read well?” Gracelyn asked.
“He does fine with his glasses,” Raphaela replied, then sighed. “But I told you, he always loses them.”
Herbert ambled in with laundry dropped off by other neighbors and descended the basement stairs.
“You get that sorted, then come back up here. Ms. Gracelyn has something she wants you to do this weekend.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Herbert responded swiftly and seriously.
Gracelyn returned home in time to prepare lunch and relieve Rebecca from her second-floor sentry. She bolted around the kitchen preparing the lunch tray, anxious to complete the men’s feeding so she could work on sketches for her set design and drag more of Mattie’s trunk contents for costumes.
Laelia Page 10