Drops of Cerulean: A Novel

by Dawn Adams Cole

  “Yes, she is away for the rest of the month in St. Kitts with the family, but they check in on occasion.”

  “Oh … um,” Delphina stammered, not anticipating this response. “Yes, I am looking to get in touch with Mrs. Butler’s uncle, Dr. Cadmus Doyle. He was one of my professors at Rice, and I am looking to reconnect.”

  “Hmmm,” the housekeeper drew out with a long pause. “As I said before, I am happy to give her the message, but you might consider pursuing another option.”

  “Excuse me?” Delphina replied, taken aback by the brazen suggestion.

  “Pardon me for speaking out of turn, ma’am, but I have worked for the Butlers and Dunns for a long, long time. Dr. Doyle has been estranged from his family ever since his mother died many years ago. Every family has their issues, you know? Even the very wealthy.”

  Delphina hung up the phone feeling an odd blend of outrage and sadness. How dare the housekeeper reveal such details about her family? She took a seat on the bench in her yard, placing her hands to her temples to focus her mind.

  Were they her family? She did not know for certain, and she began to wonder what made a family in the first place. She certainly knew that it was far from compassionate to divulge such personal family information to a stranger. It made her even more determined to find her son, as she pieced together that he was very much alone.

  She remembered how Jane had been overcome with emotion when she had received the invitation to Mr. McClelland’s private funeral service, later sharing how his husband had told her how much Robert had enjoyed working with her. Perhaps Jane could help Delphina locate Cadmus, but she was currently traveling back from overseas. This topic needed to be raised in person.

  SHE ASKED VICTOR ABOUT DOYLE & Dunn when he found her with heavy eyelids searching the Internet at two o’clock in the morning.

  “They are the last of the original tenants, dating back to 1927. It was Doyle Lumber & Construction back then.”

  “Have you met Timothy Dunn?”

  “Yes, and you did, too.”

  “When?” she gasped.

  “At the firm’s open house. Remember, he’s the one with the Heights High connection.”

  “That night was a blur … so many people,” Delphina muttered, retracing her memory with the parade of faces from the evening and glasses of champagne flowing to mark the new venture.

  “Why are you asking?”

  Delphina paused, and after a brief struggle with how to say it, she opted for a blunt approach.

  “He’s related to Cadmus.”

  Victor took a seat. Delphina thought his countenance bore the look of disbelief, but his words soon corrected her misconception.

  “Deli, my firm hopes to work with Doyle & Dunn. Mr. Dunn was impressed with our plans for the new museum. I … I can’t have this chance ruined!”

  “I’m not going to waltz up and announce I’m his grandmother! Good Lord, Victor, please give me more credit than that!”

  “His grandmother? Jesus Christ!” Victor said, jumping from his seat. “There is a way to find Cadmus, and it is not through Timothy Dunn.”

  “Victor! I am so close to unraveling this mystery!” Delphina pleaded. “You have always been open to reincarnation!”

  “That’s true, Deli, but it’s been philosophical!” he shouted, turning away to leave the study. “This is nuts!”

  Delphina agreed to stay away from the Dunns but for other reasons. As was the case with his sister, Timothy more than likely did not share a relationship with his uncle.

  She returned her gaze to The Doyle House, her muse, her touchstone that initiated the nexus to her past. The listing from the realtors’ association was still available online; it gave her glimpses of the interior of the home when it had still belonged to Cadmus. The house had served as a museum to the Doyle family, pristine antiques nestled on thick rugs, Robert’s modern art flanking the walls with orchids abounding.

  Although she sat by herself in the study, she felt far from alone. The uneasiness that had plagued her most of her life now had a form: the powers and limits of free will. Patrick absolving her from her involvement in his death had ushered a release of the anxiety she had suffered her entire life. His message to find Cadmus came with it the belief that she, perhaps, needed to extend a message to him.

  She returned to the listing, noticing the realtor’s name. She was surprised she had not noticed it when she first found the listing: Geoffrey Singleton. Victor was partnering with him on a project.

  Geoffrey,

  It was so good to see you last weekend at Cistern. Congratulations, again, on your new venture in EaDo! I know Victor is as excited about the opportunity as I am.

  But on to my work … I have a favor to ask. I am working on a historical fiction piece on The Heights and am drafting a list of long-time residents I hope to interview. I recall that you recently sold The Doyle House. Any chance you can connect me with Dr. Cadmus Doyle?

  Thanks so much … hope to see you soon.

  Delphina

  Delphina closed her laptop, quite proud of herself for drumming up a plausible white lie. It was nearing three o’clock in the morning, and she had to teach two classes the following day. Tiptoeing to Ainsley’s room, she pushed open the cracked door to see her daughter fast asleep, right thumb in mouth and left hand embedded in her light brown curls, just like her vision of Cadmus as a boy. Curling up next to her, she stroked her daughter’s back and kissed her forehead.

  Delphina woke to her phone pinging that she had received a new message. Her heart picked up a beat as she reached into her robe pocket. It was a message from Geoffrey. She knew realtors worked odd hours, but this one surprised her.

  Delphina!

  What an exciting venture! I am more than happy to help with your novel. Our neighborhood holds many secrets … It will no doubt be a fascinating read. Scoring an interview with Dr. Doyle would be quite a feat, if only you can catch him in time. From what I understand, his health is quickly spiraling downward. He moved into The Oaks Retirement Community after the sale of his home.

  Fingers crossed! Please send my best to Victor.

  G

  “AINSLEY HAS A FEVER,” VICTOR REPORTED as he turned on the shower, waiting for the water to heat. “I have an eight o’clock status update on the new project that I cannot miss. You’ll have to take this one, Deli.”

  “Today? You really can’t help today? You know Rosa is at her mother’s this morning.”

  “Yep,” he replied, covering his face with a healthy dose of shaving cream.

  “I had a breakthrough last night, Victor. I know where he lives.”

  “He’s waited for you this long. He can wait another day,” Victor replied, rinsing his razor.

  “Victor, why are you doing this?”

  “Your daughter needs you, Delphina. She needs her mother. I have helped as much as I could over these past several weeks. You know I have. But your family is suffering, and we are right here, loving you in this lifetime.” Delphina stood still, her heart torn between lives.

  “Rosa will be here later this morning. You will still be able to teach at least one class today. And then … and then you can go to Cadmus.”

  “GOOD AFTERNOON, I AM HERE to see Dr. Cadmus Doyle,” Delphina said, making sure to hold eye contact with her head held high.

  The front desk attendant replied, “Of course, one moment, ma’am,” before looking down at the keyboard for a few pecks.

  “May I have your name, please?”

  “Delphina Walsh.”

  The attendant nodded politely before returning to the screen.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Walsh, but Dr. Doyle does not receive visitors.”

  “No visitors? But he was my professor at Rice, one whom I would very much like to see again. He may not remember my name, but I know he will know my face.” Delphina was proud of the partial truth behind her impromptu response. She knew her son would recognize her.

  “I’m so very sorry. I
am happy to leave a message with his next of kin in the event something changes.”

  “I don’t think he has a next of kin. He’s all alone!” Delphina protested, eliciting the attention of others in the lobby.

  “He has a contact listed. I am happy to pass along your name and your interest.”

  “Yes, yes, please do so,” Delphina replied, her voice trembling as she gave her phone number before heading back to her car and to her office.

  Delphina was heading east on the freeway toward downtown when her phone rang. She had never been so excited to see an unknown number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, may I please speak with Delphina Walsh?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Hi, Dr. Walsh. My name is Clementine MacDougall, and I am the personal contact for Dr. Cadmus Doyle.”

  “Yes, thank you so much for returning my call. I would very much like to visit Dr. Doyle, and I am hoping you can help me.”

  “Perhaps I can, but I think we should meet first.”

  “What? Why?” Delphina said, annoyance building. Who in the hell is this Clementine? He’s my goddamn son!

  “I’ll tell you when we meet.”

  “When?”

  “Are you free this afternoon?”

  “Yes,” Delphina said, not caring that she would miss another class. “Just tell me when and where.”

  DELPHINA ARRIVED AT THE CAFÉ on Heights Boulevard early, attempting to distract herself with grading. Victor’s comments about her neglecting her family were also applicable to her work. The irony of discovering the literal interconnectedness of her life resulted in her failure to uphold her current obligations. She owed her students and her family an apology.

  She heard the old wooden door to the bungalow open and looked up to see a woman approaching her with a cautious smile.

  “Dr. Walsh?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “I Googled you. I found your photograph on the University of Houston Downtown’s website.”

  “Ah …” Delphina replied, motioning for Clementine to sit down. “And please call me Delphina. Let me pour you a cup of tea.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for meeting me.”

  Delphina nodded and took a sip of tea, waiting for Clementine to continue. Excitement and curiosity filled her heart at the thought of how close she was to meeting Cadmus. She knew she had to remain composed. Clementine was the only one who could help her.

  “Dr. Doyle is very special to me. He was my favorite professor at Rice throughout my undergraduate and graduate studies, and I served as his teaching assistant for many years, even taking on his classes when he finally stepped away from teaching.

  “My grandfather and his husband, Mr. McClelland, were partners at the same law firm for many years together. Dr. Doyle suffered many tragedies during his life, including his husband’s death last year.”

  Delphina held her gaze, nodding and trying to understand why she was sharing this personal information.

  “This is why I will not allow him to be hurt again.”

  “I don’t want to hurt him!” Delphina protested. “I want to visit him.”

  “Why? The receptionist said you were a former student, but I know that is not true. Your name is nowhere in the records, and your bio on the UHD website in no way references Rice University.”

  Delphina’s mind reeled. She had not anticipated such a confrontation.

  “I’m sure you know Dr. Doyle is worth quite a bit of money. Aside from his own wealth, Mr. McClelland was one of the top litigators in the city. My father has made me keenly aware that people have tried to extort Dr. Doyle once he became a widower.”

  “I’m not interested in his money!” Delphina retorted.

  “Please tell me why you want to see him,” Clementine said, her voice softening.

  Delphina bit her lip in a futile attempt to ward off tears.

  “Why did you want to meet me? You could have done this over the phone,” Delphina said.

  “Because I believe he needs to see you. And obviously you need to see him. I just needed to meet you face-to-face first and see.”

  Delphina looked up at her, nodding but deficient in her attempt to find an opening to explain.

  “He has an affinity for what was the Merchants and Manufacturers Building, which is now …”

  “The University of Houston Downtown,” Delphina finished.

  “Yes, the place where you work. His father helped build it, and it is where his parents met.”

  Delphina caught her breath, tears coming to her eyes.

  “His mother was a tutor at Heights High School, where you taught for many years, as I read in your bio.”

  Delphina nodded, Clementine’s words making her story more plausible, her affection for the UHD and The Heights deeply, almost incomprehensively, engrained.

  “He and his mother were very close, but they had a falling out the day before her unexpected death. He never shared the details other than that it was his greatest regret and that he longed to see her but once again.

  “And then there is this,” Clementine continued, reaching into her purse for a paper. As she slid it across the table, Delphina saw her name come into view on the title line.

  DELPHINA PULLED ONTO THE BOULEVARD and in front of The Doyle House as the workers continued another day of transformation. The playlist shuffled to Lynn Anderson’s “Rose Garden,” and in a breath Delphina’s mind shifted to her parents dancing so many years ago.

  She thought about the anxiety she had wrestled her entire life, raw and innate as it was from her earliest memories. She thought about her natural love of The Heights and her emotional connection to UHD. There was a pattern, but she conceded that most people would not be able to discover theirs as she had hers. Before understanding her connection to Cadmus, she had held the opinion that past lives were more likely than not. She could not understand the concept of only having one lifetime to sort out issues, some struggles so extreme and so very far from control. One life, followed by an eternal sentence to heaven or hell: It had never made sense to her.

  She wondered if there was a pattern as to why her daddy was reticent with an eye naturally cast for reflection, his responses calm and thoughtful when so many others gave way emotionally. Perhaps his wisdom came from being an old soul. She questioned if there was a pattern to her momma’s naïve optimism and desire to be around all things elegant. Her last sojourn might have been in a much nicer setting.

  She gave thanks for Victor, a man who continued to embody humility and confidence despite his growing success. His optimism, the peaceful way about him, he may very well be someone reaping the benefits of having learned many lessons. And then there was Ainsley, who could have very well been Aislinn. Delphina recalled Victor mentioning it as a possible name, one he liked. “Oh, my gosh! That’s it! I love it,” she remembered saying, never needing to thumb through the used baby name book Libby had lent her.

  Delphina admired the roses that contrasted against the azure sky. One of the workers was watering the flowers spared from the new pool construction, the ones that had been there for over a hundred years as a gentle reminder of the divine to all who graced the garden.

  She welcomed the reverence beginning to supplant her anxiety. She learned incarnation begets a composite of free will and interconnectedness, actions continually synergizing lessons and new patterns in an attempt to progress souls forward.

  “We all spin a silk fiber for the web,” she said aloud to the universe as she pulled her car away from the curb.

  Her soul filled with gratitude over her struggles, knowing they made her more connected to others, including the child who still needed her. She was on her way to see her son.

  DELPHINA SAT BY HER SON’S bedside, her hand placed gently over his as she kissed his forehead. His eyes remained closed as they had been for days and would remain through his final transition. She told him she loved him and that his father was waiting, full of love and eagernes
s to see him again.

  She looked over to the photograph of Patrick on his nightstand, the man with whom she had reconnected several weeks ago. She looked into the eyes of her former self, smiling widely in front of the M&M, full of hope and life.

  Pulling out Cadmus’ poem from her pocket, she read aloud to him.

  Delphina

  swells nurse love and regret

  once nourished in the collective womb that feeds us all

  the record is found from the constellations to a drop of cerulean

  a microcosmic blueprint of the Universe

  east to west; the compass marks time

  and if the needle intersects our sojourns but once more

  a lattice of benediction, atonement

  Agape

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  BURTON, WITHOUT YOU, THIS BOOK literally would not have been written. Aside from your love and encouragement, you selflessly devoted your time so I could write. (And to all our friends, this is why you only saw Burton at children’s birthday parties and play dates for the last few years!)

  Caroline and Elizabeth, thank you for appreciating my passion and exploring it as a possibility of your own. I intentionally kept my printed rough drafts piled high so you would see how it looks to follow a passion, which is not always an easy path. You warm my heart when I see you curled up writing stories of your own. Your stories connect you to the world. Keep reflecting and writing, my loves.

  Roger Leslie, thank you for serving as my first editor. Your feedback and encouragement gave me confidence to continue my journey.

  Ellen Green, I appreciate your wit, humor, and southern sayings. You gave more color to Margaret. And we still need a NOD at Tony’s.

  Jano Nixon-Kelly, you were kind to indulge me and Burton in a private tour of the Niels Esperson Building. Walking the floors and hearing the stories provided context to the building I have admired since I was a child. Thank you for welcoming me into your fold.

  My heart fills with gratitude for Greenleaf Book Group. The encouragement and support allowed me to take a big leap and share my thoughts with the world. In particular, I want to extend my appreciation to Daniel Pederson, Lindsey Clark, Jen Glynn, Rachael Brandenburg, Scott James, Daniel Sandoval, Chelsea Richards, Elizabeth Chenette, and Tyler LeBleu.