by Ann Tatlock
“Seth looked better today,” she said.
Truman nodded. He took a final swig of the chocolate milk, closed the carton, and set it on the bench beside him.
“But it seems like he’s been in the ICU forever,” she went on. “Is it normal for someone to have pneumonia for this long?”
“Oh yes.” Truman dabbed at his mouth with the cuff of his shirt. “Pneumonia can be one tough nut to crack. But I think Seth’s looking a little better too, like maybe he’s about to turn the corner.”
“Do you really think so, Truman?”
Truman started to respond but was interrupted by Jane’s cell phone ringing. Jane reached for her pocketbook. “Maybe that’s Gram!” she said. “Maybe she found Laney’s address.”
She pulled the phone out of its pouch and looked at the number. She shrugged and shook her head at Truman as she opened the phone. “Hello?”
A woman’s voice said, “Jane?”
“Yes, this is Jane.”
“Oh my goodness, child, you sound all grown up. Jane honey, this is Laney. Laney Jackson.”
“Laney!” Jane felt herself carried back to the Rayburn House kitchen in a warm rush of memories. Laney was there in her white bibbed apron, making biscuits and singing hymns and offering smiles to the love-starved little girl that Jane had been. Now Jane smiled and pulled in a deep breath, as though drinking in those long-ago days. “Laney, how did you get my number?”
“Your grandmother called. She said you wanted to find me.”
“But how did she find you? I mean, how’d she find your phone number?” She glanced at Truman, whose eyes were wide, his face expectant.
“Well, she said she found the Christmas card I sent last year, and she saw our return address is the Travelers Rest Inn. It’s not hard to find the phone number of the Inn. Travelers Rest isn’t a very big place, you know.”
“You live at the Travelers Rest Inn?” Another glance at Truman, whose eyes grew even wider.
“Yes, but more than that, we own it. Clapper and I. We bought it a few years back and now we run it as a B&B, just like your grandmother runs the Rayburn House.”
“Really, Laney? That’s wonderful! It’s . . .” She paused a moment, surprised by the sting of tears behind her eyes. “It’s so good to hear your voice,” she finished.
“It’s good to hear your voice too, honey. Makes me realize how much I’ve been missing you all these years.”
“I’ve missed you too. I wish I’d been better about staying in touch. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, child, especially since you’ve found me now. Goodness, but hearing your voice, it seems like time’s been all squeezed together and it was just yesterday since I last saw you. Hmm, yessir . . .” Laney paused and sighed contentedly. “Those were sweet days, working for Mrs. Morrow, spending time with you. But listen, honey, I know you had a reason for wanting to find me.”
“Oh.” Jane looked up at Truman again and smiled. He was fidgeting restlessly now. “I’m spending the summer in Asheville, and I’ve met someone here who knew your mother.”
“Really? Now who is that?”
“Well, Laney, do you remember your mother ever talking about Truman Rockaway?”
Jane’s question was met with momentary silence. Then, “You’re talking about Dr. Rockaway?”
“Yes. Dr. Rockaway.”
“He’s there?”
“Yes.” Jane nodded. “And he’d like to meet you.” Another pause, one that needled Jane and set her on edge. Hesitantly, she asked, “Would that be all right, Laney?”
“I don’t know what to say, Jane,” Laney finally replied. “You’ve caught me off-guard. I thought he was long dead.”
“No. I can assure you he’s not dead. He’s sitting right here across from me.”
“Well, now, isn’t that something. I’m . . . I’m . . . and you say he wants to meet me?”
“Yes. Would that be all right?” she asked again. For the first time, Jane realized it may not be all right at all. To Laney, Truman Rockaway may be nothing more than the man who broke her mother’s heart. “But, of course, if you’d rather not, I’m sure—”
“No, no. I’d be happy to meet Dr. Rockaway. It’s just that, I’m going out of town on Saturday, and I’ll be gone a month. Do you remember my son Eugene?”
“Sure, I remember him.”
“Well, he’s in graduate school, and he’s got an internship out in California.”
“He does? Little Eugene?”
“Not so little anymore. All grown up like you, Jane honey. Time’s gone by.”
“Yes.” Jane laughed lightly. “I guess it has.”
“So Sarah and I, we’re going to California with him just for the adventure. Poor Clapper’s going to stay here and man the store.”
“What about Frankie?”
“He’s staying home with Clapper, helping out around here while he’s taking some summer classes at Furman University. By the way, he’s Frank now. Won’t answer to Frankie.”
Jane sighed at the thought of time passing, things changing. “So you say you’re leaving Saturday?”
“That’s right.”
“And today’s Tuesday.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Listen, Laney, how about if we drive down tomorrow?” Jane looked at Truman, who nodded.
“Sure, honey. Come on down. Stay a couple of days. This is a big place, and we got plenty of room. We’ll keep a couple rooms available for you and Dr. Rockaway. No charge.”
“Really, Laney? You want us to stay a couple of days?”
“Of course. Honey, I haven’t seen you in a dozen years. As long as you’re coming down, you might as well stay awhile.”
“Well, that’d be great. I’ll let Truman know.” Jane glanced up as Truman rose from the bench. Flustered, she watched him begin to leave. “Thanks, Laney. Really, I can’t wait to see you.”
“Oh, honey, I can’t wait to see you either.”
“Good. Tomorrow then, all right?”
By the time Jane said good-bye and snapped the phone shut, Truman was halfway across the commons. “Truman! Where are you going?”
He hollered over his shoulder as he continued toward the door, “I’ve got packing to do!”
Jane smiled as she watched him lope away on his old arthritic knees, the shoelace of one battered leather shoe trailing behind him.
She was glad Seth was awake when she went to see him later that afternoon. She wished she didn’t have to wear the mask so that he could see her smile.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“A little better, I think.”
“You look better.”
He nodded weakly.
“Listen, I have to go away for a few days, but I’ll be back soon.”
“Where you going?”
“I’m taking Truman to Travelers Rest to meet Laney.”
He offered a puzzled frown. “What?”
“It’s a long story.”
“So tell me.”
“I don’t have time. The nurse will kick me out before I can finish.”
He appeared to shrug. He closed his eyes a moment, opened them again.
“Is it a long drive from Troy?” he asked.
“From Troy? We’re not in Troy, Seth. We’re in Asheville. Remember?”
His eyes wandered off as he thought about that. When he didn’t respond, she said, “You’re in the VA hospital, and I’m staying at Diana’s house.” At the mention of Diana’s house, Jane realized she’d have to ask her friend whether a neighbor could look after the dogs for a couple of days. She’d take care of that as soon as she got home.
Seth focused his eyes on Jane’s face again. “Oh yeah,” he said. “How could I forget?”
“Blame it on the drugs. They’ve got you pumped full of them.”
“Drugs, or wishful thinking, maybe.”
“Yeah, well, another couple of months and we’ll both be back in Troy. Your folks are getti
ng the house ready for your homecoming, you know.”
Seth sighed heavily as two lines formed between his brows. “So you and Truman are going somewhere?”
“Yes. Travelers Rest.”
“And when will you be back?”
“Friday. Today’s Tuesday, so like I said, it’s just a few days.”
“All right.”
A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Time’s up,” she said.
Jane looked at her, back at Seth. “I have to go.”
“Okay.”
“By the time I get back, I expect you to be out of the ICU.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she stopped herself. She glanced over her shoulder at the doorway. It was empty. Defiantly, she pulled the mask down, tucking it under her chin. She leaned over the bed rail and pressed her lips gently against Seth’s forehead. His skin was cool and moist. “Good-bye, Seth,” she said. “See you soon.”
By the time she straightened up, his eyes were closed and he’d already drifted off. She settled the mask back in place and left the room.
36
The highway sloped downward as the Honda traveled from the mountains of western North Carolina to the foothills just across the South Carolina line. Jane felt every mile of I-26 rolling beneath her, separating her from Seth. A particularly sharp pain shot through her as they passed the sign for Chimney Rock and Lake Lure at Exit 49A. Jane averted her eyes and tried to tamp down the memory of the day she became engaged to Seth. She glanced at her left hand on the steering wheel; she didn’t wear the ring anymore, and they were no longer officially engaged, yet leaving him behind was hard. It was the timing that was bad. She wanted to see Laney, and she wanted to take Truman to Travelers Rest, but she wished she hadn’t had to leave Seth while he was still in the ICU. If he were over the pneumonia and back in his old room, she wouldn’t feel quite so anxious about being gone a couple of days. But that was the thing, Jane told herself. It was only a couple of days. She’d be back in Asheville the day after tomorrow, and by then he really might be over the crisis and back in his old room.
Jane glanced at Truman in the passenger seat beside her. He wore freshly pressed gray slacks, a long-sleeved shirt, and a tie. The shirt was pale blue; the tie a paisley pattern of blue and brown. The expression on his face was an odd mix of anticipation and apprehension. He had brought his walking cane along. The rubber tip poked at a point between his feet, while his hands, one on top of the other, rested on the curved handle. His fingers flexed and twitched. His eyes darted from the road ahead to the blur of trees off to his right and back again. He cleared his throat, inched himself up in the seat, wiggled his fingers again.
“You all right, Truman?” Jane finally asked.
He looked straight ahead as he nodded. “I haven’t been home in forty-four years, you know.”
“You still think of Travelers Rest as home?”
He smiled faintly. “Oh yes. It’ll always be that. I just didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it.”
“Then I’m glad we’re going back.”
“I am too.”
“By the way, what’s the story behind the name of the town?”
Truman rubbed his brow before saying, “There’s no story, really. The town was just named for what it was—a place for travelers to rest. Back a couple hundred years, drovers from Tennessee and Kentucky used to herd horses, sheep, pigs, all kinds of livestock down the mountain trails toward the marketplaces in the South Carolina low country. It was a long journey and a hard one. Along the way they needed a place to stop and rest for the night. So inns sprang up and stores and taverns. The smartest innkeepers had livestock pens available, so the drovers could know their livestock was safe during the night while they slept. That’s how the town got its name.”
Jane nodded thoughtfully. “It seems nice to have a place to rest.”
“Yes, it does, Jane. It sure does. Seems like I could have used such a place many times in my life, especially early on, when I always seemed to be running.”
“I feel like I could use a resting place right now,” Jane said.
“No doubt you do.” Truman looked at her, gave a nod of understanding. “No doubt you do,” he said again.
Several miles rolled by in silence. Just beyond Hendersonville, Jane picked up I-25, the road that would take them to Travelers Rest.
Once she had regained a comfortable speed, she asked, “Do you remember the inn, the one Laney owns now?”
“Oh yes, I remember it well. It’s the largest inn, and the oldest, in Travelers Rest. I believe it was built somewhere around 1850. Of course, it was built by a white man and owned by a succession of white men. But just imagine, Maggie’s daughter owns it now.” He smiled. “Things really have changed some, haven’t they?”
“For the better, thank heavens.”
“Oh yes. That’s not to say there’s not a long way to go, but at least things are moving in the right direction.”
“Do you suppose anyone in Dr. Coleman’s family still lives in Travelers Rest?”
Truman thought a moment before lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I would think so. Probably even old Tommy Lee himself still lives there . . . if he lives anywhere. He’d be pretty old by now.”
“I bet he’d only be about your age, wouldn’t he?”
“Hmm. I guess he’s not so old, then.” One corner of his mouth drew back in an amused grin.
“You wouldn’t be in any danger, would you? I mean, if he found out you were in town?”
“No, I don’t think so. But if he still wants to string me up, so be it. All I want now is just to see Maggie’s daughter. Then I’ll be ready to go.”
Jane gave him an exaggerated frown and shook her head. “Well, listen, Truman, you’re not going anywhere except back to Asheville with me at the end of the week.”
“All right.” A small grin. “I’ll hold you to it.”
Jane lifted a hand from the wheel and pointed to a sign by the roadside. “Look, Truman, we’re crossing into South Carolina now.”
“Well, I’ll be . . .” He kept his eyes on the sign until they’d passed it.
“So we’ll be there in another twenty minutes or so.”
Truman flexed his fingers and took a deep breath.
“It won’t make you sad, will it?” Jane asked. “To go back, I mean?”
“Probably.”
“Then . . .”
“But I want to go. Maybe by meeting Laney, I can finally put Maggie to rest.”
“I hope so, Truman.”
“I hope so too.”
With that, Jane left Truman to his thoughts while her own wandered—from Seth, to Laney, to her mother, father, grandmother, and back to Seth again. Just knowing she was about to see Laney brought back a tangle of memories and emotions . . . some sweet, some laughable, some bitter. Maybe, like Truman, she too could put some of them to rest.
As they moved along the two-lane highway, they passed numerous roadside stands offering strawberries, fresh tomatoes, hot boiled peanuts. They passed scattered cabins and single-wide trailers, small antique shops and barbeque restaurants, a mobile home park called the Foothill Estates, and a novelty shop flying several Confederate flags. Jane glanced over at Truman. He must have seen the flags, those reminders of a slave-owning South, but he pretended not to notice. Then, on the right, two large estates, gated and set back from the road, as though their aloofness said they were not really a part of the town that Jane and Truman had just entered. There was no sign to welcome them, not from this direction anyway. Just the sudden appearance of motels, gas stations, a Dunkin’ Donuts shop, and finally, as though to remove all doubt, the Travelers Rest Bank, the Travelers Rest Community Services building, the Travelers Rest Fire Department.
“We’re here,” Jane said.
Truman nodded as he looked from side to side. “If I didn’t know this was Travelers Rest, I wouldn’t recognize it. Everything’s different.
So much is new.”
“You don’t recognize anything?”
“Some of the buildings.” Truman squinted. “Some were here. My, how the place has grown.”
“It has? If this is big, what was here before?”
Truman laughed loudly. “Not much. It was always just a little bit of a town. Never had many people here. Most people who say they come from Travelers Rest live between here and Greenville somewhere, like my family did. Still, we claimed this little town as home rather than the larger city of Greenville.”
“Well, do you think you recognize enough to tell me how to get to the inn?”
Truman looked around. Then he pointed straight ahead. “Sure. Just follow this road and turn left. We can’t miss it.”
Jane did as she was told. In another moment, she saw what had to be the inn. It was a large two-story clapboard structure with a wide front porch and gingerbread trim. A pebbled circular drive cut through a lush green lawn dotted with dogwood and evergreen trees. The inn itself looked well kept and as though it had recently been wrapped up in a new coat of white paint. Black shutters accentuated the cream-colored drapes in the windows. Six hanging baskets of red, white, and pink begonias hung in neat precision above the porch railing, while the same number of wicker rocking chairs waited for takers there in the shade. “I’m assuming that’s it,” Jane said.
“That’s it, all right,” Truman acknowledged, not taking his eyes off the inn.
Jane pulled the Honda into the circular drive, put the car in park, and cut the engine. “Well, Truman, you ready?”
Truman nodded once and reached for the door.
37
They met in front of the car and headed up a flagstone walkway toward the porch. Even before they reached the steps, the front door of the inn opened and a woman stepped out.
“Janie Morrow,” she said, holding out her arms. “Come here and let me look at you.”
Jane climbed the steps and moved into the warm embrace of Laney Jackson. After a moment Laney pulled back and cupped Jane’s face in both her hands. “Uh-huh,” she said, “I can see you in there, Janie. But you’re all grown up and more beautiful than ever.”