by Ann B. Ross
She let me lead her to a chair and, as I did, I could feel the tremors running through her body. Her face was pale and stricken-looking, and I knew I was dealing with a strong emotional upheaval.
“I told you about the break-in at Sam’s house,” I began, soothingly enough. “And when Sam realized that some valuable notes and things were missing, he decided he needed a private investigator. So he called Mr. Pickens. On his own, I might add. He’ll be staying at Sam’s house for the duration, but he won’t be bothering you. The only time he’ll be here is just to run over and have dinner with us, since that’s the least we can do for a visiting professional. So, see, you don’t have to be concerned about him at all.”
“But you promised,” she said.
“And I kept my promise. I didn’t call him, Sam did. And it’s business, Hazel Marie, just business.”
“Yes,” she said bitterly, clenching her fists. “Monkey business, if I know him.”
“Listen,” I said, “I promise you, you won’t have to see him unless you want to.” At her fierce glare, I quickly corrected myself. “I know you don’t want to, so all you have to do is stay up here when he’s eating dinner. And see, he didn’t linger even tonight. He just ate and left, and that’s the way it’ll be all the time he’s in town. Besides,” I went on, trying to lighten her mood, “I certainly don’t want to be entertaining him for hours at a time. I’m happy enough to feed him since he’s working for Sam, but I don’t want him hanging around half the night, either.”
“Well, okay,” she said, straightening out a Kleenex to blow her nose. “It’s just that I thought I might begin coming down to the table. At least for one meal, and now I can’t.”
“Oh, Hazel Marie, that means you’re feeling better.”
She shook her head. “I thought I was until this happened. And now I’m going to be stuck in this room forever! And all because of him!”
“No, no, don’t say that. You can come down anytime you want and I’ll keep him out. Whenever you want to have dinner with us, just tell me and I’ll send him to Hotdog House or the Burger King. You don’t need to worry about him at all.”
“Oh, Miss Julia,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “You’re all so good to me, and I know I’ve been hard to live with. It’s just that my whole life has gone to pieces and I don’t know what I’m doing, or what I’m going to do or when I’m going to do it. Or where, either.”
Lillian tapped at the door right about then, relieving me immensely. She backed into the room, holding a tray filled with Hazel Marie’s dinner.
“Here yo’ dinner, little girl,” she crooned. “I hope you like it. That Mr. Pickens, he ’bout eat it all up. I thought I have to slap his hand, he take any more helpin’s.”
To my surprise, Hazel Marie looked up at her, smiled, and began to wipe her face. “I wish you’d slapped more than that. He needs it, coming here like he’s still part of the family and acting like nothing’s wrong.” She suddenly covered her face again. “And everything’s wrong!”
“Oh, Hazel Marie,” I said, dismayed by her relapse. “Please don’t say that. Things will work out, see if they don’t. Lillian, pull that table over here, please, and let’s see if she can eat something. Look, Hazel Marie, see what a lovely dinner Lillian’s fixed for you.”
Lillian pushed a side table close to Hazel Marie and began to spread plates and dishes on it. “See here,” she said, patting Hazel Marie’s back, “here’s a nice slice of roast beef, jus’ what Mr. Pickens choke hisself on.”
“He did?” Hazel Marie looked up at her through red-rimmed eyes. “Would’ve served him right if he’d strangled on it.”
Then she laughed, or tried to. “Oh, me, I’ve got to try to get him out of my system. He’s out of my life for good now, and I’m not going to let him upset me anymore.” She took a deep breath and reached for a fork. “Thank you for this, Lillian. I’ll be coming downstairs a little tomorrow, so you won’t have to be carrying all this up here much longer.”
“Why, you know I don’t mind,” Lillian said, giving me a worried look. “I want you well again, an’ I do whatever it take to get you well.”
“I know and I appreciate it more than I can say,” Hazel Marie said with only a small sniff. “But the time has come for me to start taking care of myself.”
Lillian and I looked at each other over Hazel Marie’s head, each of us staring at the other’s concern. Did that mean she’d soon be leaving?
Lloyd, dressed in white shorts and a navy polo shirt, came to the breakfast table the next morning and announced, “Mama’s coming down. She’s going to eat with us this morning.”
“Why, that’s wonderful,” I said, pushing back my chair and getting to my feet. I took another place mat from a drawer of the sideboard and put it on the table, then went to the kitchen door to let Lillian know. “Put on another egg or two, Lillian. Hazel Marie’s coming to the table.”
I walked to the foot of the stairs and saw Hazel Marie, fully dressed, sliding against the wall as she stepped carefully down the stairs.
“Can anybody see me?” she whispered, as if she didn’t want anybody to hear her either. “Has Mr. Sam gone?”
“No, he’s still here.”
She immediately turned around to go back upstairs. “I can’t face him. Please, Miss Julia.”
“Oh, no, Hazel Marie, come on and eat with us. He really wants to see you. He’s been asking and asking when he can visit you. He loves you, Hazel Marie, and that hasn’t changed.”
“But he’s ashamed of me, too, isn’t he?”
“Not at all. He’s already planning to take that baby fishing. Now you come right on. He’ll be thrilled to see you.” I held out my hand to encourage her. “And don’t worry, I’ll close all the curtains so nobody can see in. You look lovely, Hazel Marie, like you’re feeling a lot better.”
“I still feel a little weak,” she said, taking my hand, “but I hope it’s just from staying in bed.”
“Well, we don’t want to rush it, do we?” I led her to the chair that Sam had jumped up and pulled out for her and she took her place beside Lloyd.
“Welcome back,” Sam said, patting her shoulder and smiling at her. “All fixed now? Anything you need?”
“No, thank you,” she said, putting her hand on Lloyd’s arm, perhaps for reassurance. “I’m fine, now that I made it down the stairs. Thank you all for putting up with me for so long.”
Lillian pushed through the swinging door, just in time to hear her. “Why, Miss Hazel Marie, nobody ’round here puttin’ up with anything,” she said, placing a plate of scrambled eggs and grits in front of Hazel Marie. “When somebody sick, ever’body pitch in an’ he’p ’em out, jus’ like you do when somebody else be sick. Now eat all them grits, they set nice on your stomick, but I didn’t give you no bacon or sausage. You don’t need none of that greasy stuff.”
Hazel Marie’s eyes crossed just the slightest little bit at the thought of greasy sausage, but she gamely picked up her fork and began to pick at the food. Gradually, though, as her appetite grew and we stopped watching every bite she put in her mouth, she made fair inroads on her breakfast.
“Well,” Sam said, putting his cup in the saucer, “if you folks will excuse me, I need to get over to the house and see what Pickens is up to.”
Distressed that he’d brought up the forbidden name, I gave him a brief glare. He just smiled at me and went on, “I hope you have a good day, Hazel Marie. But take care and don’t overdo it. I want to see you well and happy and back the way you were.”
Well, didn’t we all? But no chance at this point of reversing what had been done. Sam gave me a kiss, winked at Lloyd, and told him to work on his backhand. Then he was gone.
“Well, Hazel Marie,” I said, putting my napkin beside my plate, “do you have any plans for the day? Anything you want to do?”
“No’m, but you know I have an appointment with the doctor this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s right. W
ell, I’ll drive you, because we still want to keep you under wraps for a while so everybody in town won’t come visiting.”
Lloyd looked at his mother. “You still can’t have visitors? I thought, since you’re up, you’d be well.”
“She is, Lloyd,” I assured him. “Or just about. But it takes a while to get over being sick, and your mother needs to take it easy and not get all social on us. And you know how people are in this town. If they think she’s completely well, they’ll be expecting her to lead a book discussion or do a flower arrangement or bring cookies for a Sunday school class or volunteer to walk for some cause. Why, she’d be bombarded with things to do and not get any rest at all. So it’s better if people think she’s still flat on her back in bed.”
He grinned. “Yessum, I see what you mean. Everybody likes my mama so much, they can’t leave her alone.”
Hazel Marie’s eyes filled as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I love you, Lloyd.”
“Me, too,” he said, sliding out of his chair, “but I gotta go.” He left to get his tennis racket.
Hazel Marie lowered her head, then in a miserable voice, she murmured, “It won’t be long before nobody’ll like me, not even him.”
“Nonsense, Hazel Marie,” I said, briskly, although I thought my heart would break in two. “Don’t let yourself get down. Let’s go to the kitchen and visit with Lillian. She’ll cheer us up.”
Chapter 19
Lillian did her best, and so did I, but it was hard going to keep Hazel Marie occupied and on an even keel during her first day out of bed. It didn’t help matters that we had all the curtains tightly closed, making the rooms dim and gloomy in spite of the bright sunshine outside. But neither Hazel Marie nor I wanted any passersby to see her up and dressed. They would’ve been knocking on the door, wanting to see her.
At one point, she decided she needed some exercise, so she walked throughout the house, around and around, through one room after another, then up the stairs and back down again, until she was winded and white in the face.
Finally, looking at her watch, she said, “I’d better get ready to go to the doctor. My appointment’s at one.”
Lillian gave us a light lunch, but Hazel Marie didn’t do much damage to it. “I know he’s going to tell me I’ve gained too much weight,” she said.
“Why, you know not,” I said, looking to Lillian for confirmation. “You haven’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive, Hazel Marie, and half of that’s come back up.”
Nothing we said made much of an impression on her and, as I drove her to see that substitute doctor, I noticed her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap.
“I just hate this,” she said as I turned into the parking lot at Dr. Hargrove’s office. She pushed her hair back from her face. “I’d give anything if it hadn’t happened.”
“Now, listen,” I said, pulling into a parking slot and turning off the ignition. “Regretting the past won’t do you or anybody else any good. You can waste your entire life moaning and groaning over something that can’t be changed. What you have to do is start right where you are and deal with whatever you have to deal with. Today is the first day of the rest of your life, Hazel Marie.” I had to look away, unable to believe I’d come out with something so trite and silly. But she took it to heart, nodding her head in agreement, and seemed to feel better for it.
Of course, I was relegated to the waiting room where I sat and waited for an hour while Hazel Marie got weighed and examined and talked to by that doctor who needed a nurse’s help to make a diagnosis. I could’ve been a taxi driver for all the note he took of me.
“What did he say?” I asked as soon as Hazel Marie and I were back in the car. “Is everything all right?”
“Well, you were right,” she said with a sigh. “I have lost weight and he gave me a long lecture on nutrition and exercise and I-don’t-know-what-all.” She took some folded papers and brochures from her purse. “Here’s what all I’m supposed to do, and I don’t even feel like reading it.”
“Oh, Hazel Marie, you have to keep your spirits up. Your emotional well-being is important to that baby, to say nothing of what you eat. My goodness, that baby could be losing weight, too, and we can’t have that.”
She shook her head. “No, he said the baby would get what it needs. It’s just that my health would suffer. You know, hair getting thin and falling out, teeth getting loose. Things like that.” She said the last in a monotone, as if the prospect was of little concern to her.
“Well,” I said, trying to make light of such dire prospects. “I guess those old wives’ tales are true. But you’re not going to lose any hair or any teeth. You’re going to eat right or Lillian’s going to force feed you with me helping her.”
“I know,” she said with a weak smile. “And I’ll try. He said I should soon be past the time of morning sickness—and evening sickness, in my case—and I think I am. I don’t feel as sick as I did just a few days ago when I could hardly stand the thought of food.”
“That’s good. I’d noticed that you were eating a little better. Did he tell you when we can expect the baby?”
She held her head in her hand for a minute, then looked up, sighed deeply, and said, “He said Dr. Hargrove will be back next week, so he wants me to come back in to see him. He said I might be further along than he’d thought at first.”
I took my lower lip in my teeth, thinking that I might’ve been too quick to blame San Francisco. But if so, then when and where? Not that it was any of my business, and I wasn’t about to ask her, but I do like to know what I’m dealing with. As well, I might add, as when I’ll have to deal with it.
Leaving that alone with some effort, I said, “So Dr. Hargrove will be back? That’s good, Hazel Marie. We know him and he knows us. You’ll be in much better hands then. Unless,” I went on after a second thought, “you think you should see a specialist. You know, one who delivers babies all the time.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m dreading seeing Dr. Hargrove because, well, you know, he’s in our church and all. I wish he didn’t have to know.”
“That’s something to think about,” I said, driving toward home. “But Dr. Hargrove has so many secrets in his head about the people in this town, it’s a wonder he’s able to sleep at night. It’s up to you, though. If you’d be more comfortable going to somebody in Asheville, that’s where we’ll go. And Dr. McKay will be leaving, I presume, so nobody but us will know anything.”
“He’ll tell Dr. Hargrove, anyway. I mean, he’ll report on the patients he’s seen while Dr. Hargrove was away, so it doesn’t matter. He’s always been so nice to me that I dread having to face him. But,” she said with a heavy sigh, “the word’s going to get around one way or another if I don’t hurry and leave town.”
Well, that didn’t do my equilibrium any good, but I let it pass. “Let’s just see how well you get along in the next week or so. You have plenty of time before anything starts to show, even if you’re farther along than that halfway doctor thought.”
I still wasn’t happy with the way Dr. McKay had missed the obvious and missed it even though I’d told him he should consider female problems. And what’s a worse female problem than being pregnant without a husband?
By the time we got home, Hazel Marie was dragging, so after she’d eaten part of a snack Lillian had prepared for her, she went upstairs to lie down. That gave me a chance to catch Lillian up with what the doctor had said.
“So,” I said, finishing my report, “she may be farther along than we’d realized, and with Dr. Hargrove coming back, she’s anxious to be leaving. I am so distressed because heaven knows where she’ll end up.”
“Miss Julia,” Lillian confided in a low voice, “she can’t look after herself all by herself and that baby, too. An’ what she gonna do ’bout Lloyd? He goin’ or he stayin’?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? I don’t know which is worse, having both of them gone or her off by herself with nobody to
get help if she needs it.” I could feel my nerves going to pieces everytime I thought of the ramifications. “We’ve got to get Mr. Pickens to make a move.”
“He be here for supper again tonight. Maybe we ought to jus’ tell him. An’ tell him what he got to do about it, too.”
“I’m tempted, Lillian, I am really tempted. But I did give her my word, and I hate to go back on it. At least until there’s nothing left to do but that.” I blew out my breath, exasperated because no one was doing what they were supposed to do. “Well, we still have a little time. As long as she’s not packing her suitcases, we can wait a while longer and hope something will give.”
Dinner that evening was a repeat of the previous night, although without Mr. Pickens’s choking episode. He came in, being his usual cheerful self, although I thought I noticed that it took a little more effort than usual. I hoped so. I hoped he was having trouble sleeping and trouble keeping his mind on his work and trouble making it through the day. He had no trouble eating, however, or engaging Lloyd and Sam in conversation. But, like the night before, he left as soon as dinner was over, expressing his apologies to me and his compliments to Lillian.
“Mr. Sam?” Lloyd said as soon as Mr. Pickens had left. “Are y’all finding out who broke into your house?”
“We’re working on it,” Sam said. Then with a look that included me, he went on. “I’m still trying to find some of those files that’re missing at the courthouse. And trying to set up appointments to interview people again.” He sighed, almost with resignation. “They don’t want to talk to me, though. The word about the break-in has gotten out, and that’s made everybody jittery. It doesn’t make sense to me, but that’s the reason they give.” He managed a small laugh. “Those who’ll even give a reason, that is.”