by Hattie Mae
MaeMae put her arm around Joelette's waist and walked beside her. “You look tuckered out, Cher. Time will help. It always does.”
“I don't know if anything can help this time, but I do know I've let my guard down once too often.” Joelette smiled a weak smile and patted MaeMae's soft hand. “But we have our family back together. Let's celebrate.”
“Mrs. Broussard brought a tape of you on the news last night. You looked so pretty,” MaeMae said. “How's T-Boy? Is he still having dreams about the accident?”
“The doctor gave me some pills to give him before he goes to bed for the next couple of nights. He had one last night. He woke up screaming for Mansir not to leave him. I couldn't tell if it was about the wreck or just about him leaving. I just want all of this behind us, you know?”
MaeMae shook her head. “Come, sit, I'll get you some iced tea after I get the boys settled with their cookies and milk. Try not to think about anything. Just sit back and let the healing began.”
She’d lost a lot in her life, but this...this felt as if someone had severed one of her limbs. She watched the swaying of the moss. It was hypnotic.
Joelette felt the tension leave her body. Tomorrow, she would find out the cost of the hospital after insurance, and see if she had enough to pay or if she’d have to ask for a payment plan. Thank goodness for the insurance through the school, that would help.
MaeMae returned with the tea.
“How much do you think it will cost to hire someone to plow up my field and make the rows?” Joelette asked.
“Possum and I talked about that last night. He told me his cousin would do it for around two hundred dollars. He's sending him by tomorrow.”
Joelette smiled and took her eyes off the scenery. “He's a good friend. I'll call the hospital business office first thing in the morning. Once I know how much I owe them, I’ll know if I have anything left for the field.”
Everyone turned in early. Joelette tumbled out of bed and made her way through the darkened house to the living room. She turned the television volume low. Her eyes settled on the tape on top of the television. Joelette popped it in.
She watched in horror as the hollow-eyed woman talked on the news. Could she look more haggard? Joelette prided herself on looking neat. She didn’t have a lot of clothes but what she had was always clean and ironed. Not today. The light from the camera showed through her dress, revealing she had forgotten to put on a slip. Her hair stuck out in an unkempt way. And her country drawl came across the tube like some hick.
She looked like white trash.
Joelette watched it twice. The second time she tried to focus on the questions and answers. “Are we on television yet?” she’d drawled. People all over the Parish saw her, as she really was nothing more than a woman fresh out of the swamp.
She walked to the kitchen and made a cup of peppermint tea to settle her upset stomach. She removed the tape and threw it in the trash. Once again, she sat in front of the television and flipped through channels, her mind still on her embarrassing interview.
Joelette sipped her tea and settled on the news. Someone else's problems would help her take the focus off hers, she hoped.
A striking couple appeared on the screen holding hands. Joelette choked on her tea. Mansir. No, this man was not Mansir. The man staring back at her was William. The beautiful, put-together blond beside him must be his wife. As she turned up the volume she thought her heart would stop.
“That was the last picture taken of the “Golden Duo” before Mrs. Matherson met her death. With Mr. Matherson back home the funeral is being planned.
When asked where he’d been, he responded “no comment.” “We’ve had reports of you being taken in by a family in the swamps of Louisiana, do you have anything to say about them?” A young reported asked shoving the mike as close as he could.
“No comment. Now if there are no more questions, I have a early day tomorrow.”
His voice poured like warm honey over Joelette's soul. But he wasn’t hers. Even if his wife was dead. In a daze, she turned off the television and walked out onto the porch.
They had looked so regal. Filmed in front of a white mansion with large columns. He took her breath away standing there so tall and confident in his dark suit. His wife wore a shiny blue suit with an elegant cut. Her perfectly styled hair and dazzling smile complimented him. Joelette couldn’t help noticing that the lights from the camera revealed nothing but the blonde's poise and grace.
She cried until her eyes ran dry, and then went to bed. But her thoughts still haunted her.
They were from different worlds.
Did you and your sister have a good laugh about the little woman from the swamp gathering herbs and playing her fiddle as she sang A Paper in My Shoe?
The last thing Joelette remembered thinking before the exhaustion overtook her and she slept was Mansir’s voice saying “Goodbye.” It was her first thought upon waking too.
A soft knock on her bedroom door startled her.
“Joelette, are you awake? Possum and his cousin are here. Do you want to talk to them?”
Joelette forced her eyes open to find MaeMae standing at the foot of her bed.
Part of her wanted to pull the covers back over. But Possum was a friend and no matter what else, he was here to help.
“Yes, I want to talk to them. Work has to be done. Ask them to wait a few moments.” Joelette ran to the bathroom to take a quick shower.
Somehow, she would make all of this work.
###
Marion was dead. And Tony had killed her.
Guilt flooded William’s whole body. If he’d never left but stayed and tried to settle things would she still be alive and would Tony be free?
Reporters had met them at the airport, but they managed to escape after only a few questions. So different from Joelette’s warm welcoming home. He thought of the front porch and the family full of such love and fun. That seemed like a life-time ago but he missed them and the life he’d had with them.
As he and Sara sat in his giant living room with all pristine white furniture that Marion had spent a small fortune on, William knew he remembered nearly everything now. The reason he ran, and why his wedding ring was in his pocket and not on his finger. The only thing missing was what had happened between Marion and Tony the night William had left.
“I was trying to get to Georgia to Sid Lawson. You remember him don’t you, Sara. He handled all of Dad’s legal matters, and Dad told me a number of times if you every need help he’s the man. That night, I knew I had to get to him fast. I tried to reach him by phone but couldn’t get through and with time running out I jumped in the car and took off.” William laid his head back. “Not the smartest move I’ve ever made.”
Sara took his hand. “We both know that something must have happened to you that night so let’s get at why and what you can’t remember about that night.”
He shot Sara a grateful look. She was right. There was no point in berating himself anymore. Not when there were still so many things he had to figure out. “Okay,” he said.
“Let’s start by reconstructing that night. There was a party.” Sara picked up the pen and tablet. “Take it slow.” Sara sat back and waited.
“I remember coming home tired to find Marion was having another one of her parties. You know the type, Sara, where it starts out as a small dinner party and ends up being a full blown event with lots of booze, and people I didn’t know.” William cleared his throat, as the next memory felt stuck. “I stepped out of the shower and picked up the house phone in our bedroom. I’d forgot to lock my inner office and wanted to have Tony take care of it. But as I lifted the receiver to place the call I heard Marion and Tony on the phone. I was about to hang up but something she said made me listen.”
He took a big drink out of his glass, and slouched back into the couch. “It wasn’t so much what she said but the tone of her voice. She called Tony, ‘sweetheart.’ I never suspected they’d have an affair. I listened to
them talk about things they had done together for the last year. My best friend and my wife.”
“I'm so sorry, William.” Whatever Sara had been writing, her pen had stilled on the page and she looked at him with a mixture of pity and regret. “I suspected she had someone, but I never thought it would be Tony.”
“You suspected an affair?” He turned to his sister. “Why?”
She shrugged, not quite meeting his gaze. “Just because of who she was, William. You know for yourself that she was never satisfied with anything for more than a minute. You even told me right after the two of you got married that you didn't think you would ever be able to please her.”
“I've been a fool.” He thought of all the heartache from jumping through Marion’s hoops. How much easier his life would have been if he’d given up years ago. “I never wanted all of this.” William waved his hand to encompass the room.
He was quiet for a moment, before continuing. “I can still hear Tony saying, ’You're the best, princess. I love you.’ After that I only remember getting in the car and leaving. I planned to call you, Sis, when I reached Georgia, but we both know what happened next.
“I drove straight through. Angry, tired, hurt, and betrayed, I remembered falling asleep at the wheel and almost hitting a car. The road turned into a dirt road and I must have fallen asleep again and must have driven off into the swamp.”
Neither he nor Sara talked about the gaps in the story, the gaps in his memory. Because something had certainly happened between the phone call he’d overheard and the drive to Georgia. Something else he’d heard, but his mind had locked out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Possum's cousin gave her such a great price, she had to agree to it. He’d start the work in the field tomorrow. Joelette felt better. At least those plans were going accordingly.
She dialed the number to the hospital business office. She could do this, get on with her life and eventually she’d stop thinking about him. She would just commit to her work. And the more work she did, the less time she had to think about him.
The person on the other end of the line answered and Joelette gave her all of her information, then waited while the woman pulled up T-Boy’s file in the computer. She came back on the line and gave Joelette the information, then disconnected the line.
Confused, she turned to her mother-in-law. “MaeMae, the strangest thing just happened.” Joelette hung up the receiver and sat in a chair at the table. “T-Boy's bill has been paid in full. The business office wouldn’t give out a name but said it was a gift to a brave young boy. Can you believe that?”
“Yes, Cher. There are good people in the world.”
“But who?” As if someone had turned on a light, she felt her face flush. “Do you think it was him? If it was, I have to see that it is returned. I don't want to be beholden to him.”
“Joelette, take a breath. Why would it matter if Mansir paid or a stranger? This might be his way of trying to repay us and release some of the hurt.” MaeMae shook her head. “Let it go, Joelette. Don't allow pride to take this away from T-Boy. Think how pleased he will be to think Mansir paid his bill.”
“You know how this galls me, MaeMae. But I'll let it rest for now. I'm sure this is just pocket change for him.” She examined her fingernails a moment. “I saw an interview with him and his wife last night on the news. Their house looks like the White House.” Joelette walked to the sink and washed her hands then splashed cool water on her face. “I think I'll go read a little to the boys. I need to remember what's important in my life.”
“It's nice to see you on your way back, Joelette, but don't let all of this harden your heart to whatever life may bring.”
“Don't worry about me. I don't plan to hang my heart out for easy pickings again. Our life will soon return to normal.”
###
William slept in one of the ten bedrooms upstairs. He knew he would never sleep in their bed again. Marion was dead.
Early that next morning he walked barefoot downstairs to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen, the cook turned toward his footsteps and dropped the cup she held.
“I'm am sorry, sir.” She rushed to pick up the pieces of shattered ceramic. “It's early I didn't know you would be down this time of the morning. You must be starved.”
“Don't worry about it. I'm used to getting up and getting work started. All I need is a good cup of coffee now and my breakfast in the sunroom when it's ready. No rush.”
William felt sorry for the woman who'd been their cook for what seemed like a short time. He didn't even know her name. He watched for a second as she dusted off her hands and then pulled another mug from the cabinet.
“I apologize, I've forgotten your name.”
The kitchen smelled of stainless steel and cleaner. Nothing like the warm kitchen he’d left behind.
Startled, the woman tipped the cup over spilling coffee. “My name, sir?” Wiping up the coffee, she poured him another cup. “Mable, sir. That's my name. I'll bring your breakfast out shortly,” she said trying to settle her shaking hands.
Out in the sunroom, William took a seat in a white wicker rocker and looked out over the early morning fog that covered the garden. There was the fog he’d remembered. But it didn’t carry the sweet smell of the many plants, nor did it hold any of the mystical beauty of the swamp. The view was not the same.
He took a sip of the coffee and smiled. Possum would have nothing good to say about this coffee.
Mable returned with a serving cart full of large crystal glasses set in crushed ice and filled with fresh fruit, and with enough to feed an army. This was all for one person? Before the accident, he never would have thought twice about this meal, nor leaving half the food on the tray to be tossed in the garbage. However, his life could never return to this way of living. Something had to change.
“Hey, big brother,” Sara called as she let herself into the sunroom. “Mable told me where I could find you.” She dropped a kiss on his cheek and then glanced down at his feet. “Did Cinderella lose her slippers at the ball?”
“Help me eat all of this food so I don't feel so guilty. Why are you up early?”
“Through sleeping I guess.”
“He drank his second glass of orange juice and searched his sister's face. “How did you know Mable's name?”
“Whoa, I think you picked up another habit. You sound just like Ozamae with his questions.”
The thought of Ozamae brought an instant smile to William's face. “He’s something of a question box. I sure miss him.” Shaking his head to clear the memories, he concentrated on Sara. “I'll ask slowly this time. Please eat. Did you ask the cook her name, too?”
“A long time ago, when I came and stayed with you a while. Didn't you know her name?” Sara took a bite of toast and stabbed a melon ball with her fork.
“No. I don’t know if I ever knew her name. I've been so wrapped up in building an empire that I forgot how to be a person.” He popped a melon ball in his mouth as well. “Tell me your plans today.”
Sara cocked her head to the side and leaned toward her brother. “Do you need me to go with you somewhere?”
“No I need to handle this on my own. My lawyer called last night and filled me in on some things. Marion’s family took care of her memorial, but I need to go to her gravesite and say a few things to the women I was married to for ten years. I also need to try to visit Tony, the police said he lost it and is in a bad state.” William rubbed his face. They ate in silence for several moments.
William studied his sister. “If you could do anything you wanted to do, what kind of career would you choose?”
“I love this game. Can I choose two things? Since we are just playing a game, I think I should get to choose two things.”
Amused at his sister's animated face, he agreed.
“I would first be an artist. Not painting, but drawing. You know I wanted to take art in school, but dad said I could never make a good living drawing pictures. S
o I took up business instead and look at me now, an unemployed waitress.”
“What's the second?”
“Writing. Children stories. I have at least a box full of finished and unfinished stories under my bed.”
William put his fork down and looked at Sara. “How can I love you and think I know you so well and not know your two desires? When I complete this plan I'm working on, we'll have this conversation again.”
She raised her eyebrow. “What are you going to do, pay me, to write children’s books?”
He smiled at her. “Everyone should get to live his dream at least once in his life time.” Then he excused himself from the table and kissed Sara on the top of her head. “I have to finish dressing and get to the police station. The police chief and I talked last night and I have a meeting first thing. Then I hope to make it to the office before the regular work force. I have a lot of catching up to do today. And I’m working on the best decision I’ll ever make. See you later. Wish me well.”
###
“Mr. Matherson, what a surprise. It is such a pleasure. Good to have you back.” The security guard continued to pump William's outstretched hand in a strong handshake.
“Good morning to you.” Carefully, William eased his hand out of the guard's grip. “I want to surprise everyone else, so would you see to it that no one knows I'm here yet.”
“Yes, sir.”
A few minutes later, William let himself into his office for the first time in months. He was still reeling from the meeting with the Police Chief. Tony had turned himself in but in the process had a nervous break down. He would visit Tony later today.
He sat in his plush leather chair at the ebony crescent desk that announced, 'Person in Charge' and turned around. He peered out the wall of windows on the top floor of The Matherson Building. The skyline of San Francisco loomed impressive with the Golden Gate Bridge emerging majestically to his right. Fog hung on the cable tops painting a post card of the mighty bridge. His memory towered right in front of him.
He brought up his personal computer with his handprint and the machine responded with a greeting of “Hello, Mr. Matherson.” He smiled at the machine. T-Boy would get a kick out of all of this.