The House

by Anjuelle Floyd

  “Brad’s leaving day after tomorrow,” she said. “I thought I’d stay and help if that’s okay.”

  “There’s hospice, you know. Your father arranged for a worker to begin coming next week.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Linda folded a second pillowcase then gently lowered it on top of the first. She clasped her hands, laid them in her lap. “I’m pregnant, four months.”

  Warm relief filled Anna’s body. She had sensed something about Linda’s quietness, the protectiveness and care she had shown her stomach. Brad, always loving, had been ever more affectionate.

  “I’m so happy for you.” Anna reached across the pile of folded towels and pillowcases and hugged her elder daughter.

  On seeing that Linda had yet to smile, Anna asked, “Are you afraid you’ll have to go back on the medication or that the pregnancy will take you into a depression?” At one point Linda and Brad had decided against having children due to the constant round of daily medication Linda took. That had been at the beginning of their marriage.

  “No.” Linda shook her head. This was the first time since Linda and Brad’s arrival that Anna had witnessed or sensed any inkling of the melancholic and pessimistic Linda. “It’s just that I want Dad to see my child.”

  Anna shuddered. In her joy, she had forgotten that Edward would most probably not be alive to witness the birth of his third grandchild. “Have you told your father?”

  “No.”

  Again Anna embraced Linda, this time shoving aside the folded towels and pillowcases. She held on tight to her daughter. What had once separated now bound them. Anna pulled Linda’s head onto her chest and stroked her cheek. She looked at the towels and pillowcases yet to be folded. They were laying beside the folded ones. By-products of family. Women’s work, she thought. What keeps the life force going, and maintains the cycle of humanity.

  “Do you know what it is?” Anna asked of the child that Linda was carrying.

  “A boy. We want to call him Edward. Edward Manning Oliver.”

  “I think that would be a fine name.” Anna refused to allow her tears to intrude upon her daughter’s moment of joy.

  Linda left Anna’s arms and wiped her face.

  “Edward Manning Oliver,” Anna repeated. “It’s a lovely name.”

  Linda beamed. Then for a third time Anna reached for her daughter.

  Anna was sitting at the kitchen table and drinking tea when the phone rang. The joy and anticipation of Linda’s addition to the family juxtaposed to Edward’s terminal illness pulled at Anna’s extremes.

  David came to her with the cordless phone in his hand.

  “It’s for you. Inman.”

  Anna took hold of the phone, missed the look of serious questioning on David’s face as she turned and headed toward the sliding glass door.

  “How are you?” She stepped outside on the patio and slid closed the door.

  “I called to ask you the same,” Inman said. Three days had elapsed since their last meeting.

  Anna lost her smile. The warmth of hearing Inman’s voice faded.

  “There’s a lot going on.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “Why do you say that?” Anna said.

  “Which son was it that answered the phone?”

  “David.”

  “Your eldest,” Inman said.

  “Why?”

  “Just asking. “He’s the taller of the two,” Inman said.

  “Did he say anything to you?” Anna grew anxious.

  “No.”

  At some point she would need to tell the children about Inman.

  At some point. Not now. “I miss you,” Anna said. She fell prey to desires suppressed upon returning to her role of wife and mother. “I wish I could be with you.”

  “Is that wise?”

  Anna whispered, “I feel like I’m an alien.” She glanced back at the house. The kitchen was empty. “I know so little of what goes on in my children’s lives. They call one another regularly, but on their cell phones.”

  “Why don’t you tell them that? Say you want to know more.”

  “I’ve always tried not to call on them, or interrupt their lives with the foolishness in mine.”

  “You can’t have it both ways.” Inman’s words stung Anna. “At some point you’ve got to tell them about us. Unless that is—”

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve always been there for them. I’ve also tried to give them their space. I never begged them to come home when they were at college. I supported them in going out on their own. Never asked them to look back.”

  “Anna, why did you bring Edward home and halt the divorce proceedings?”

  “Is this why you called me? Is that why you came over last week?”

  “I actually wanted to see if you were up for dinner,” Inman said. “But since you’ve raised the issue—”

  “Then, how the hell did we get so off course?”

  “I asked you how you were doing?” Inman said. “You followed with, ‘A lot’s going on.’”

  “You sound as if I don’t know how to handle my children. That I’m ashamed of you. This is not like it was with Edward and his women,” Anna said.

  “Are you so sure it’s not, at least in your mind?”

  “Is that how you feel, that I’m keeping you hidden?” Anna’s body was hot. “Do you know what it’s like to live over thirty years with a man who’s been unfaithful? It’s hard, particularly when you’re trying to maintain his image as a loving father so that the children don’t judge him erroneously and think that just because he didn’t love you—” Feeling a presence, Anna stopped short. The soft approach of footsteps softly fell silent. She turned back and met Ed ward’s gaze. He was within arm’s length. Her hand went numb. She nearly dropped the phone.

  “Anna, what’s wrong? Who is it?” Inman’s voice trailed up the receiver.

  “I have to go.” Anna murmured. Her eyes never left Edward. “I’ll call you later,” she said to Inman.” Edward drew near.

  She clicked off the cordless and laid it upon the patio table. “Why are you out of bed?” Anna asked.

  “I’m tired of lying down. I need some air.” He was wearing a cot ton robe over a white t-shirt and a pair of burgundy plaid pajamas. The robe was rumpled as if he had been sleeping in it.

  Anna tore her gaze from his and started past him toward the kitchen. “Would you like something to eat?” she asked.

  Edward caught her arm. “I’m fine.”

  Anna turned toward him. Softly, he stroked her cheek. Pangs of guilt threaded through her. She lowered her head. Was this how Ed ward felt on his return home and facing her after having been with the women? Anna hadn’t made love to Edward in nearly a decade.

  Softly he asked, “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine.” Anna would not look at him.

  “You didn’t sound fine on the phone. Was it Elise bugging you about having taken the house off the market?

  “No,” Anna mumbled. Her lips trembled. How much had he heard?

  Edward pulled her close. His slowing breath swept her face. Anna leaned upon his chest. He caressed her head, ran his fingers through her hair.

  “Oh, Edward,” she moaned.

  “We’ll get through this,” he said then kissed her cheek. Anna whimpered silently. The image of Inman lay upon the surface of her thoughts.?

  Chapter 24

  Anna entered Scott’s Restaurant in Jack London Square. Spying I Unman at their usual table by the window, she informed the maitre d’ that she had located her party. Inman rose from his seat at the table that could seat four, and greeted her. He did not kiss her. She sat across from him.

  “I’m sorry for hanging up on you.” Anna laid her purse on the seat of the chair beside her. “But Edward—” Shame overtook her once more. She wished she could return home, erase the last three decades, and start over.

  Inman joined her in
sitting.

  “Did Edward overhear you speaking to me?”

  Anna nodded. “How much, I don’t know.”

  “Did you tell anyone where you were going?”

  “No. Just that I needed to go out. Like Edward often did, I sup pose.” She seethed. Inman remained calm, further irritating her. “You take this as some kind of game.”

  “No. Your husband is dying. Your four children are home. It’s not been easy.”

  “Scratch that. Three. One left the other day in a huff.” Anna explained the foray with Serine’s suitors. “It was horrible. Both Matt and Grant were at the house. Serine was in her room hiding from what she had done. Add to that, she’s engaged to Grant and wearing his diamond.”

  “It certainly adds spice to a situation brimming with a harsh dose of reality,” Inman said. Anna stared at him. His smile faded. “Did Serine ask the guys to come?”

  “No. But she must have indicated that’s what she wanted. Why else would they have taken time from their jobs, driven and flown up here?”

  “Perhaps they truly care.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Inman appeared to understand, condone, Serine’s behavior. Anna’s anger percolated. “It’s scandalous. She called Matt her fuck buddy. Serine used that word to describe him.”

  “It generally means—”

  “Please.” Anna flashed her palm. “I know what it means. I’m appalled that a child of mine would think of someone in that way.”

  “So noted.” He gave a light smile of agreement.

  “Serine knows better. I taught her differently. Perhaps you don’t mind Dancia using that kind of term, but I do.”

  Inman’s smile dissipated “Should Dancia use the word, I’d be more concerned about what drew her to speak of someone that way.”

  “Serine’s obviously gotten off track. I should have—”

  “I don’t know that you could have done anything.”

  “It’s because of Edward’s behavior over these years,” Anna quipped. “I’m certain of that.”

  “You think you should have left Edward sooner?”

  Anna stared at Inman. “Perhaps it’s the way I am now, who I’ve become, what I’ve done this past year.” She recalled Edward’s words when he interrupted her conversation with Inman. We’ll get through this. We will.

  “Edward’s dying.”

  “So, that makes it alright for us to be together?” Anna was furious. “If Serine knew I was here with you now, she would say I was behaving no differently than Edward. I was committing adultery, the very thing that Edward—”

  “Okay, then introduce me to your children.” Inman had told his daughter, Dancia, of Anna. “Bring me out of the shadows. Tell them I love yo—”

  “Didn’t you just hear me? Never mind their father is dying.”

  “Which you just found out.”

  “And now that I know about Edward, I’m trying to do the right thing.” Anna grew more frustrated trying to explain her dilemma.

  “Never mind he spent the last year fighting to keep you from divorcing him by trying to stranglehold you into not selling the house.” Now Inman was angry. “Putting your life on hold won’t save Edward. If he’s really sick and dying—”

  “Are you saying you don’t trust him, or what the doctor says, that this is all a hoax?”

  Inman furrowed his brows. “That sounds more like something you’d accuse Edward of doing.” Anna sighed. Inman surveyed the table between them. “Anna, we’ve been seeing each other for the past five months. Many of those weeks we’ve spent three to four nights at either your apartment or my house in Berkeley. Now that Edward’s terminal—”

  “He’s not dead yet.” The finality of the word terminal shook Anna. She lifted her purse and made to leave. Inman grasped her wrist.

  “Then why aren’t you wearing your band. Why did you remove it? Anna, at some point you’re going to have to tell your children about us, me.”

  “Yes, but not now. Not at this moment.” She shook her head.

  “Then when? Have you never considered we’d get this far? Or had you planned to use me like Edward used his women?”

  Anna wished for Inman to caress her as Edward had done earlier that afternoon. She pulled back, attempted to free her hand from Inman’s grasp—her weak attempt at resisting what her body so desired.

  “I won’t let you go,” Inman whispered.

  Anna’s heart sank at how she would choose the words to tell her children of Inman. “I didn’t rush to introduce you to the children because of the divorce. It was hard enough for me to even reach the point of asking for it. Telling the children was a nightmare.”

  “And you survived it.”

  “But at what cost?”

  Inman frowned as he sought once more to grasp her attention. “You don’t believe that asking for the divorce caused Edward’s cancer—that you made him sick to the point of dying?”

  “That’s absurd.” Anna snapped. But Serine’s logic had concluded just that. “Serine accused me of ignoring Edward’s suffering. She questioned how I could have fought for the divorce all these months and not been aware that Edward was ill.”

  “Serine is a daughter who’s losing her father to cancer,” Inman said.

  “Precisely my point. I have to tread carefully.”

  “Somewhere along the way, you’ve got to start living the life you want, Anna, and making your own joy.”

  Her cheeks ran hot, and her ears burned against the sad medley of Inman’s questions. Again, the chorus of Edward’s voice arose. We’ll get through this.

  Over her entrée of salmon with green beans and rice, Anna explained each one of her children’s dilemmas. She listed reasons beyond Edward’s dying as to why now was not the time to tell them of Inman’s role in her life.

  “Two days ago, David buried his father-in-law in Santa Rosa. He died of cancer. David’s just back and he’s certain that Heather is having an affair with the neighbor who helped with her father. Theo, on the other hand, seems in no rush to get back to Millicent in Chicago.”

  “Millicent, did you say?”

  “Yes, Millicent Regarde.” Anna disliked calling the name. This was her first time discussing her daughters and sons-in-law with Inman. “I never wanted him to marry her,” Anna said of Millicent.

  “Why?” Inman seemed intrigued and invested in hearing Anna’s reasoning.

  “Millicent Regarde is an absolute b-i-t-c-h. Forgive me for spelling it out like that, but she simply doesn’t love my son. In fact, I don’t think she can love anyone but herself.”

  Inman’s cinnamon face twisted against its usual calm. “Why do you say that? What evidence do you have?”

  Anna wanted to ask him what was wrong, but instead remained with her frustration. “I saw it the first time I met her. Never mind what Theo’s told me since being home.” No longer would Anna, as she had done throughout her marriage, make excuses and try justifying her feelings and opinions. Let the dead bury the dead. Though for Anna, the dead had more to do with her mother, Elena, Edward and now perhaps Theo’s marriage to Millicent.

  Anna said, “Millicent is a near perfect replica of Edward. She’s having a love affair with her father, Thelonius.”

  “You know this for a fact? Have you ever met these people?” In-man’s demeanor became like stone.

  “Thelonius was a philanderer like Edward. He was never around, always off playing with other women, his gift to himself for having made millions. Millicent told Theo. Her mother, Henrietta—” Anna bristled with shame and anger at the thought of another woman, like her, accepting her husband’s behavior with little fight and stamina to leave. “Let’s just say that Theo and Millicent’s shared experience of witnessing their mothers’ pain attracted them to each other. Only now Millicent is following in her father’s footsteps.”

  “By having an affair with her father? That’s preposterous.” In man was indignant. “It would be incest.”

  “
I’m speaking figuratively. Apparently, Thelonius has begged Henrietta and Millicent’s forgiveness. Millicent has merged her mortgage brokerage with Thelonius’ real estate firm. She’s enthralled with the attention Thelonius is giving her.”

  “You don’t think he’s sincere?”

  “Why should he be? He’s probably afraid that something will become of him like with Edward.”

  “Is it so bad to change your habits to make life better for yourself, and the ones you love?” Inman knitted his brow and drew Anna’s ire. “I doubt if he’s sincere.”

  “Were you sincere in taking Edward back home to die? Or did you simply want to watch him suffer?”

  Again Anna moved to leave. Inman missed catching her hand. When he arrived outside, she stood waiting to get into her car that the parking attendant had driven around.

  “Anna.” He caught her shoulder as she moved to get inside. Anna turned around, and made to slap him. Again Inman caught her hand. He drew her near, settled his lips on hers. And there they lingered long and warm.?

  Chapter 25

  Hours later, Inman kissed her lips as he had done in the parking lot, and then her breasts. Anna lay in bed with Inman at his house in the hills high above the campus of UC Berkeley.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Inman touched his forefinger to her lips. Slowly she closed her eyes. He moved his lips to her stomach, abdomen, and womanhood. Anna lost track of her anger and vulnerability. She relaxed her head into the pillow. Inman eased his body on top of hers. The feel of his skin against her chest, as on so many occasions during the last six months, enlivened spaces left long dead by Edward’s absence.

  Inman merged his body with hers. Slowly, carefully he entered the temple of her repose. Love, complete and pure, engulfed Anna. Long-erected barriers and defenses fell away. She forgot the pain of isolation. Anna’s yearning for things to be different with Edward seemed not to matter. The hope of what might have been had Ed ward touched her in all the right places, the fear of what could have occurred hours earlier—We’ll get though this—slipped underneath the fullness of Inman’s arms encompassing her.

  Inman massaged the areas within Anna’s emotions that Elena had never caressed during Anna’s childhood. His lips reached into the forbidden places of Anna’s body, the tributaries feeding into her soul, places that Elena had taught Anna to scorn.