by Karen M Cox
“Like she was.”
“Yes.” He smiled and gave my fingers a squeeze.
There was a long silence during which we stood there, listening to the beep-beep of the IV and watching Daddy’s eyelids flutter to and fro. A rustle came from behind us, and George let my hand go so I could turn and greet the visitor.
“Nina!” I rushed to my aunt, hugging her tightly.
“Oh, my dear girl!” she said, her hand stroking my hair and giving me an extra squeeze. “I’m so sorry about this. And so glad you’re here, safe and sound.”
Isabel came in behind her and the three of us clung together.
“Who’s there?” Daddy called from the bed. “Is it my girls?”
“Yes sir,” George replied, smiling. “All three of your girls are here to take care of you. What a lucky fellow you are!”
Isabel and I approached the bed. George led Nina to the doorway to speak privately to her. She nodded and patted his arm. “We will, and thank you.” He turned to make his farewells.
“I’ll check in with you tomorrow, Emma. Isabel.”
“Bye, George. Thank you for coming.” Isabel’s voice barely carried across the room, it was so soft.
“Yes, yes,” I said, teasing to lighten the atmosphere. “Your little lady in the visitor’s lobby is awaiting her Prince Charming. You best get to it.”
He grinned at me before spinning on his heel and exiting the room.
“Oh, and George…” I called after him.
He turned.
“Keep the mustache. I like it even if Daddy doesn’t.”
He shook his head, smiling and muttering to himself. “Nonsensical girl.”
Four
December 23, 1973
Donwell Horse Farm, Highbury, Kentucky
Glasses clinked and Perry Como’s voice crooned in the background. George wandered in and out of the little cliques, saying hello, playing junior host. It was more his parents’ crowd, but the Donwell Christmas party was a local tradition, and he was expected to attend. Several area big shots were there: the mayor, the circuit court judge, the county attorney. There were many non-legal types on the guest list too, even though it was a business party. Knightley and Woodhouse had represented some very wealthy and powerful people over the years. Several owners of thoroughbred horse farms, most of the members of the racing commission, and the president of Keeneland Race Course were all mingling throughout the rooms.
George’s appearance at the party was doubly important this Christmas. The new year would bring about some changes at Knightley and Woodhouse. George was slated to take over running the Lexington branch of the law firm. That had always been the long-term plan, but Mr. Woodhouse’s stroke had sped up the event’s timing considerably. The elder Mr. Knightley had already begun cutting back his involvement, replacing court cases with rounds of golf and globetrotting. He still provided guidance to the other attorneys and continued managing some of the family properties. George’s younger brother, John, whom they called Jack, was fresh out of law school, newly wed to Isabel Woodhouse, and had been asked to head up the new Louisville law office.
George was happy for his brother; it was a big honor and a lot of responsibility as well, but Jack had always been serious and determined—not like the stereotypical reckless younger brother at all. If George were completely honest, though, in a hidden corner of his heart, he was envious of Jack’s opportunity. It would be an exciting challenge setting up a new office in a new town. But George had his stake in Lexington, and as the elder son, he had the management of the farms to keep him busy as well.
Over by the buffet table, he saw Emma ladling some punch into a cup for her father and having an amiable chat with one of Knightley and Woodhouse’s clients. She gracefully extricated herself from the conversation and rested her hand on Mr. Woodhouse’s shoulder, encouraging him to take the cup. Walking closer, he heard her voice as she reassured her father.
“Just a little bit won’t hurt, Daddy. It’s not that sweet. And it’s for toasting.”
George caught her eye, and they exchanged gentle messages of amusement regarding her father’s fastidious ways. George had missed talking to Emma this fall, he realized suddenly. When she was still at home, they were together at family and community gatherings, especially once his brother began to date her sister. Emma’s forthright opinions and her unique way of seeing the world through what George laughingly referred to as her “Emma-colored glasses” had always diverted him. Now she was getting a glimpse of the larger world, something she sorely needed, in his opinion. It would make her a much more interesting woman in the long run.
He remembered with some nostalgia how excited he had been to go to college at eighteen—hard to believe that was eight years ago. Up until that time, George Knightley enjoyed a sheltered existence in quiet, Kentucky horse country. After high school, he was ready to see more of what life had to offer and find his place in the big, wide world.
All in all, UC was a good experience. By the time he reached his senior year, however, the Berkeley culture had started to wear a little thin. At first, he believed many of the free speech movement ideals would solve the country’s problems. He whole-heartedly supported the anti-war sentiment, the Civil Rights Movement, and the defense of the First Amendment. But he had also seen the seamy underside of that culture: drug abuse, poverty, and the societal breakdowns resulting from an absence of structure and guidelines for group behavior. There was so much promise at the beginning of the “Age of Aquarius,” but after a while, it seemed to go nowhere in the cold, harsh reality of the world. The United States was still in Vietnam, there was no victory in Johnson’s “War on Poverty,” and now there was all this Watergate mess, with Nixon smack dab in the middle of it.
George also found himself surprisingly too conservative for the “free love” movement. “God knows I love women,” he was fond of saying, “but…” After the novelty wore off, casual physical encounters began to feel empty and meaningless to him. He was much more particular these days, although it was often not an issue anyway—the demands of law school and his new career cut down on his social life considerably.
His mother beckoned him to come speak to one of her friends. He winked at Emma and crossed the room to answer the parental summons.
George was glad to see John Woodhouse on the mend these days. He could walk with a cane around the house and had almost full return of his left arm. His stint at the rehabilitation hospital was over about a week ago, and Isabel and Emma were relieved to have him home at last.
The law office felt empty the last couple of months without George’s boss around. John Woodhouse wasn’t the sharpest man who ever passed the bar, but he was competent, and he was kind. He had thrown himself into his work after Barbara passed away, followed a few months later by Emma leaving for college—and it was hard to imagine working without him.
After the few weeks he had spent in the rehabilitation center, it became clear that John could not return to his former job. His memory for long ago events was as good as ever, but new information was often forgotten, and he was easily confused, even about daily matters such as medicines and paying bills. Subsequently, he was unable to try cases anymore. How would his girls manage now that he required constant care? Although Nina had her trust fund, she had only recently been able to pursue her dream of being a librarian and was now working full-time at the university. Isabel and Jack were moving to Louisville after the first of the year. Emma, of course, still had two and a half years of college in Georgia. They could hire nurses but that wasn’t the same as having a family member around to supervise the help. It would be a lot to ask of Isabel, but she was probably the best choice, even though she was newly married, because she was older, out of school, and would be living closer than Emma. George could offer to stop by regularly—make sure the hired staff were doing their jobs and his old boss was being well cared for. He started to move toward Emma to suggest it when he was interrupted by the chime of a spoon again
st crystal. The senior Mr. Knightley was getting ready to make a speech.
“Can I have your attention? A moment, please.” Mr. Knightley charmed everyone in the room with his gregarious smile. He always made it look so easy. “Jonesy, turn down that infernal music for a second.”
The butler fiddled with the knobs on the stereo until Mr. Como had faded away completely.
“Well, here we are, at the end of another year. 1973 has been a memorable one, for good things—like a successful year at Knightley & Woodhouse”—the crowd lifted their glasses and murmured “hear, hear”—“the promotion of George to managing the local office, and marriage of my son Jack to his lovely Isabel last June.” He raised his hand toward the happy couple. Jack gave one of his rare smiles, and Isabel looked up at him in total adoration.
“It’s also been a year for the bittersweet—the unexpected retirement of my faithful friend and law partner, John Woodhouse.” The crowd turned and raised their glasses to Mr. Woodhouse, who at Emma’s urging, lifted his own glass with a shaky smile.
“I’m so glad you are well enough to join us tonight, my old friend, and wish you many peaceful years in the circle of your family. You will be missed at the offices on Surrey Street.”
Mr. Woodhouse nodded his thanks.
“I also have the honor of announcing some additional news that I found out only this afternoon.”
George stopped with his martini half way to his mouth. I wasn’t aware of any other news.
“Jack and Isabel are not only taking on a marriage and a new house, but they are also taking on the supreme challenge of making doting grandparents of John, Joanne, and me. Isabel is expecting a baby in the spring.”
George almost dropped his glass. His eyes snapped to his brother and saw Jack’s frown. Obviously, he hadn’t meant for their father to make this announcement tonight. Isabel was blushing profusely, although her smile was so bright it could have powered the entire house for an evening. People surrounded them as congratulations and the sound of clinking glasses filled the room. George sought Emma, who was smiling and clapping along with everyone else. She met his gaze and laughed at his shock. This was obviously no secret to her then. Nor was it a shock to Nina Taylor, who looked at George too, eyebrows raised and smiling broadly. He threaded through the crowd and approached Emma’s aunt and her circle of friends.
“George, darling.” Nina’s friend Paulette slipped her arm through his and dragged her fingers up and down his bicep. Doesn’t the woman realize I’m about five years too old to play Ben Braddock to her Mrs. Robinson? There ought to be a name for women like this so single men could warn each other about them.
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Thomas.”
“And Happy New Year to you.” Her voice oozed sexual frustration and her breath smelled of vodka when she leaned up and kissed his cheek.
“Uh… Nina, may I tear you away from your little group here for a bit?” He detached himself from Paulette Thomas and took Nina’s elbow, leading her to the side of the room.
Nina looked apologetic. “Sorry about Paulette. She gets a little delusional when she’s had a drink or two.”
“Oh, yes, well…” He waved her comment off with a shrug and a careless gesture.
“What is it?”
“Did you know about Jack and Isabel’s baby?”
“The baby? Oh, yes, Isabel told us some time ago.”
“And Emma knows, I presume.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I guess Isabel will be pretty busy this coming year.”
Nina nodded and took a sip of her drink.
“It’s a lot to take on: a new home, a baby, and taking care of John—now that he’s returned home.”
Nina’s party smile slipped a bit. “That was the plan originally, but…”
“If it helps at all, I can check on him periodically, several times a week, if need be.”
“That’s very kind of you, but you don’t need to worry. John’s in good hands.”
A sense of brotherly unease settled over him. “If Isabel is moving to Louisville and having a baby, and you’re working full-time at the university, whose job is it to see to John Woodhouse?” he asked, already dreading the answer.
Nina looked at him, a little uncomfortably.
“Emma.” He answered his own question. “Emma is quitting college to take care of her father.” An unpleasant tightness crept over his expression. “Don’t you think it’s unwise to let her quit school?”
“Now, George, relax. She’s not quitting school. She’s going to go to the university and live at home.”
“Nina,” he said, a little exasperated. “That’s not the same thing as getting an education away from home. There’s a lot more to it than what she reads in textbooks. How is Emma going to gain that life experience? If she does this, she’ll never get to study abroad. She won’t discover how it is to live on her own. Think of all the opportunities she will miss.”
“I’ve reminded her of all that. This move is her choice. I can’t talk her out of it.”
He whirled around, looking for Emma and saw her standing by the punch table with her father and a couple of his friends. He started to move in that direction when Nina put her hand on his sleeve.
“George,” she said in her quiet, yet commanding librarian’s voice, “I know you have good intentions, but don’t upset Emma or her father with your questions and opinions. Not tonight.”
He stopped short. Of course, Nina was correct, as always. This was not the right time or place. “Yes…no…yes,” he stammered. “That’s wise advice, and no, I don’t want to ruin their evening. You’re right…yes.” He hoped he could keep himself from saying the words burning a hole in his tongue.
Nina searched his expression and gifted him with one of her kind, sisterly smiles. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not thrilled with the idea myself. But it’s not like she’s dropping out, just transferring to a local school. And, as you know very well, Emma can be quite stubborn when she sets her mind, and she’s determined to do this for John.”
“Hmmph,” he replied, knowing Nina knew all about her niece’s single-mindedness and disappointed that she wouldn’t use her motherly influence to curb it, even if it was for Emma’s own good.
Five
The holiday party was in full swing, and congratulations flowed in from every corner about Jack and Isabel’s happy news. All the excitement discombobulated Daddy, but I deflected most of the questions with ease. “Daddy is thrilled he’s going to be a grandfather … Isabel is due in early April … Isn’t it great? … A baby will be a wonderful addition to our family … Yes, Mama would have been ecstatic.”
Isabel was beaming like the sun. Jack, on the other hand…
I watched my brother-in-law during the next few minutes and then made my way over to him. Standing at his side while we both surveyed the room, I leaned toward him and spoke out of the corner of my mouth.
“Jack Knightley, you don’t look nearly happy enough to be an expectant father.”
“I don’t know why my dad has to announce it like this...in public, in front of God and everybody.”
“So, what does it matter? Everyone thinks it’s fantastic.”
Jack scowled. “Everyone thinks we’re idiots for starting a family so soon after getting married.”
“And God forbid anyone think that Jack Knightley is an idiot for even one second!” I said, laughing softly.
“What if something goes wrong, Em? How will Isabel face them all? Have you thought about that?”
“Of course, I haven’t thought about such a morbid thing! Good Lord, you can be such a spaz sometimes.” A thought occurred to me, and I pointed my finger at him. “And don’t you be saying things like that to Izzy either. It’s not good for her or the baby to get any kind of weird negative vibes from you.”
Jack rolled his eyes and snorted, but then his face took on a genuinely worried look, and my heart went out to him. He did love Isabel beyond all reason
and that meant I could forgive most any fault he had.
“Don’t worry, Brother John,” I said with a smile, using my childhood nickname for him. “I just know that everything will work out fine.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, because it must. I won’t tolerate anything else.”
He chuckled then, and I grinned into my wine glass.
“You’re too young to drink that,” he retorted.
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. I started to return his barb, but George approached us, giving me an opportunity to deftly change the subject instead.
George held out his hand to his brother. They looked much alike, although Jack’s eyes were brown, not blue, and his hair was a little darker. And George was a tad bit more handsome. In my opinion.
“Congratulations, you son-of-a-gun.”
Jack shook the outstretched hand George offered, and each brother clapped the other on the shoulder.
I looked the other way to hide a smile. Why don’t they go ahead and hug each other? Men!
“Thank you.”
“You should have given me a clue. I had no idea.” George turned to face me. “Did you have any idea?”
“What? Oh, yes, Izzy told me a few weeks back. Isn’t it wonderful news?”
“Yes, yes, wonderful.”
Isabel beckoned for Jack from across the room, and he excused himself, leaving George and me to ourselves.
“Is that when you decided to leave college?”
I blinked, looking at him in surprise. “Pardon?”
He drew the corners of his mouth in a stern frown. “When Isabel told you about the baby—is that when you decided to move back home?”
“It was the deciding factor, yes. Daddy needs someone to take care of him and run the house. It was going to be hard on Isabel to begin with, but now, with the baby coming, it would be almost impossible.”
“You could hire help.”