“Who?” I asked.
“Adam and Lillian, of course,” she replied. “She was glued to his side the entire night,” Millie said, “and she trapped him in that way that some women do.”
“I’m sure Ms. Lillian never has to try very hard for men to notice her,” I said.
Millie hunched her shoulders and motioned for me to come closer. “What I mean is that she got herself pregnant,” Millie whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “It’s the truth, so help me God. I counted the months and I barely reached seven.”
I turned away from Millie’s gaping eyes, feeling suddenly uncomfortable to be gossiping this way. “If that’s true, then Mr. Trellis did the right thing.”
“Well, I think it was a stupid and reckless thing to do. Who knows if he’s even the father? He should’ve sent her off to the nearest convent and let the sisters look after her and her baby until he knew for sure. You would’ve looked after her, wouldn’t you, Ana?”
It was strange to hear Millie mention the convent and the sisters at that moment. I’d been there only for three weeks, but I’d been so wrapped up in Teddy and in adjusting to my new environment that I hadn’t thought of them very much at all. It seemed as though my previous life at the convent belonged to another era and to another person entirely, and this unsettled me a little bit.
I glanced at Millie, who was still waiting for an answer. “Of course we would’ve looked after Ms. Lillian and her baby, but every child needs a family.”
Millie scoffed and popped another lemon cookie in her mouth. “Some family,” she said, her mouth full of lemon cookie.
Once Teddy’s schedule had normalized and he was taking predictable naps, I had more time and energy to familiarize myself with my surroundings. My favorite place to sit was at the edge of the fountain in the front garden. It was a mossy, tranquil place where the mist was transformed by the sunbeams into cooling prisms of light and color. In this place I felt as though I were suspended within a peaceful bubble where I could pray and meditate without being disturbed.
I much preferred the garden to the house, but one afternoon I decided to spend my free time exploring inside. On several occasions when Teddy was playing hide-and-seek, I hadn’t been able to find him, and felt somewhat apprehensive about searching for him in areas I wasn’t familiar with. Sometimes, Teddy would come down the stairs with his hands on his hips and a fierce little scowl on his face. “Nana no find Teddy,” he said. As far as Teddy was concerned, hide-and-seek was no fun whatsoever unless I found him.
“But I was looking for you everywhere,” I said. “Where were you hiding?”
“Up,” Teddy said, pointing to the ceiling.
“In the bedrooms?”
“No. Up, up,” Teddy replied with certain disdain.
I knew that “up, up” had to be the third floor, and although Millie had said that I’d never need to go up there, she didn’t forbid me to go. It seemed to me that if Teddy was hiding up on the third floor, I should familiarize myself with it, and I decided to do so the first opportunity I had. The opportunity came one afternoon when the house was quiet. Mr. Trellis had gone to work as usual, and I’d overheard Mrs. Trellis informing Millie that she’d be at the hair and nail salon most of the afternoon. Teddy was taking his nap, and Millie had retired to her room after lunch for a nap as well.
I climbed the darkened service stairway to the third floor, taking care to go slowly as my eyes adjusted to the diminishing light. Cobwebs hung over the windows and down the walls like torn grimy lace. Although it was a sunny day, the windows on the third floor were much smaller than elsewhere in the house, which kept the space dark and cool. I took several tentative steps forward. The mustiness was thick in the air, and I wondered how Teddy was able to hide in such a scary-looking place. But there was no doubt that he did, for midway in the corridor just beyond one of the open doors, I spotted a bright red furry limb that I had no doubt belonged to Elmo. On my way to retrieve him, I passed several small rooms containing a few sticks of furniture that had been draped with sheets darkened by layer upon layer of dust. I shuddered to think that Teddy might have hidden under these sheets where black widow spiders could be lurking. I would ask Millie about locking these rooms as soon as possible.
I recalled how she’d told me that years ago when she was about my age, she’d been one of several maids who lived in these rooms. It was easy to imagine many servants cheerfully bustling along in their crisp aprons and caps as they went about their duties. There was even an old-fashioned contraption on the wall exactly like the one I’d seen next to the pantry in the kitchen. It consisted of a tiny bell and several glass knobs that corresponded to every room in the house. In this way the servants would know exactly where in the house their services were required. It was difficult to imagine Millie ever responding to such a summons, unless it was to throw her shoe at it.
I grabbed Elmo by his furry red paw, expecting him to be in yet another small room similar to those I’d passed, but found a much larger room used for storage. Through the murky light, I saw several stacks of books, and trunks and boxes of all shapes and sizes. Oil paintings were lined up against the wall, as well as two mannequins that had been yellowed by time, one much larger than the other. On the far shelf, my eye caught a collection of small white busts and silver cups tarnished by time, some lying on their sides. Clutching Elmo to my chest, I took several steps closer and picked up one of the little statues. I wiped off the dust with Elmo’s already dusty paw and saw that it was engraved with the name Adam Montgomery Trellis. In fact, upon further inspection, it seemed that every statue on the shelf bore this engraving, while the cups were engraved with Darwin Bartholomew Trellis.
Just then I heard floorboards creaking in the corridor behind me. I turned to see a woman standing in the doorway, watching me. It was difficult to distinguish her face in the shadows and my throat tightened as my eyes focused and refocused on her silhouette. “I thought I heard someone up here,” the woman said.
“My goodness, you scared me,” I said, instantly recognizing Millie’s voice, and I chuckled nervously, hoping that the sound of my laughter would dispel my fear. “Teddy’s been hiding up here,” I continued, extending Elmo as proof. “I thought I should come up and see what he might be getting into. Actually, I think it would be safer for him if we locked up these rooms, don’t you agree?”
“It would probably be safer for all of us,” Millie replied in a dreamy voice. She glanced at the little statue I still held in my hand. “I see that you’ve stumbled upon the trophies,” she said wistfully.
“Is that what they are?” I asked. “I wasn’t sure.”
Millie nodded. “Darwin was quite the football player and Adam was an amazing musician—a prodigy, really. He won nearly every piano competition he entered, and there was great hope that he would become a concert pianist, but he hasn’t played in years.”
I was stunned to hear that someone as coarse and stern as Mr. Trellis would have any interest in music at all, and it took me a moment or two to absorb what Millie had just told me. “Why doesn’t he play anymore?” I asked.
Millie’s bright blue eyes became cloudy. “After the accident he lost all interest for it. I don’t think he’s stepped foot in the music room since.”
“There was an accident?” I asked, carefully placing the statue back on the shelf.
Millie started to speak and then stopped herself twice. Then she rolled her hands up in her apron and began to move them in uneasy circles. “The boys were in high school when it happened. They were on their way to Adam’s recital, Mr. and Mrs. Trellis and the boys. Of course they had a driver back then, a most wonderful driver, but it had just started to rain heavily and the roads were slick. They hadn’t gone more than a few blocks when a truck ran the intersection and hit them at full speed. They said that in such a downpour the driver would never have been able to avoid the collision.” Millie’s hands grew still. “Adam and Darwin survived the accident, but both Mr. and Mrs
. Trellis were instantly killed.”
“And the driver?” I asked.
“He also died,” she said, lowering her head. “Most of the staff was let go after that.”
“How horribly sad, and you were working here at the time?” “Yes, but you wouldn’t have recognized me,” she said. “I had copper-colored hair and a proper waist, if you can believe it.” She beckoned me to follow her down the hall into one of the smaller bedrooms.
“This was my room,” she said proudly. “And if you look out this window you can see what a lovely view I had of the garage.” She chuckled and then sighed as she took in the sight. “The first time I laid eyes on him was from this very window. From here I could see him coming and going every day. He was such a lively, handsome man—so much fun to be around. His name was Michael, but everyone called him Mick. Mick and Millie—it has a ring to it, don’t you think?” She smiled fondly. “We were inseparable, and Mick used to tell me that we were just like the two peacocks on the door and at the bottom of the pool. Mick and Millie—Millie and Mick,” she said, enjoying the sound of it. Then she took my arm and walked me out of the room and down the corridor.
“Where is Mick now?” I asked.
“He’s gone,” Millie answered with a sigh. “He was the driver who died with Mr. and Mrs. Trellis, and he was also my husband.”
Five
ANA OPENED HER EYES to find her beloved watching her with sleepy eyes. She couldn’t be sure how much time had elapsed, but surmised by the light in the room that it was almost noon.
“You were dreaming,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“Just remembering,” Ana replied as she leaned forward to smooth a lock of hair from his forehead. He was perspiring slightly, so she pressed her hand over his, which felt quite warm.
“Remembering what?” he asked.
“Many things,” Ana replied, wondering if she should take his temperature, but then she recalled the time. “I’m going to make some lunch. It’s almost noon and you didn’t have any breakfast.”
He swallowed with effort and asked again. “First tell me what you were remembering.”
Ana brought her chair in closer. “I was thinking back to the first day I came here.”
His eyes glazed over as he searched for the memory.
“Remember the first thing Teddy did when he saw me?”
Adam closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Then a small smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth. “Lucky for you he was such a bad aim.”
Ana chuckled. “He made up for it later with his hugs.”
“What a difficult boy he was,” Adam said, suddenly energized. “We’re lucky you didn’t run away the first chance you had.”
“He wasn’t so bad,” Ana replied tenderly.
Thin as he was, she saw the muscles around his eyes and mouth straining and quivering. Then tears sprang to his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. “I must see him,” he said.
“You will,” she replied.
“Even if he never forgives me…”
“He will come,” Ana said softly. “I know he will, and you’ll speak to him again.” These words were able to calm him for the moment, and Ana turned the conversation to Sister Josepha’s arrival and how well she looked in spite of the fact that she was now walking with a cane. Adam listened, his eyes glistening and attentive all the while, but Ana knew that he was still thinking about Teddy.
After a while Ana went down to the kitchen to prepare lunch. As the soup was heating through in the pan, she kept her eyes on the portion of the front drive she was able to see through the window and prayed that before the soup was ready Teddy would drive in and bound up the stairs to reconcile with his father, sparing her the most difficult decision of her life.
She returned to Adam’s room with a steaming bowl on a tray. Already, he had managed to elevate his bed with the remote, which she took as a sign that he was feeling better. She blew on a spoonful of soup to cool it down and brought it to his lips. He obediently opened his mouth and swallowed.
“Now you,” he whispered, nodding to the bowl.
Ana had half a spoonful, only to appease him, and then continued to feed him.
Once he’d had enough, which was very little, she began to separate the pills that he was to take at noon, but when she handed them to him he shook his head and pressed his lips together.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
He kept his lips pressed together and widened his eyes at her.
“You don’t want your medicine?”
He shook his head.
“Adam, you know you have to take it.”
“Not until you’ve eaten more,” he said.
Ana was about to protest, but then she thought better of it, put the pills down, and proceeded to eat the rest of his soup. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” she complained in between spoonfuls. When she was finished, she showed him her empty bowl and he took his pills. Soon he was sleeping again, and Ana felt her stomach turn sour. The desire to vomit would pass. She’d eaten the soup far too quickly and she just needed to take a few deep breaths and give herself time to digest. Stretching her legs out before her, she watched the rise and fall of her beloved’s chest, the slight twitching of his left eyebrow, and before she knew it, the feeling was gone.
In a few minutes she planned to check on Sister Josepha, but for the moment she was content to sit where she was and remember back to the time when everything changed, not the external circumstances of her life this time, but the inner realm of her heart.
I now understood why Millie had warned me about the party preparations in advance. It all began with the consultant, who arrived early one morning with her clipboard and briefcase in hand to meet with Lillian. While Teddy and I played in the courtyard, they sat nearby to discuss their plans for the party. It was difficult to keep Teddy from throwing cumquats at them and laughing with delight every time the tiny fruit met its mark. Eventually I ushered him back into the house and we ran into Millie, who was on her way to her room for her midmorning nap. Millie had two or three naps a day and would become quite irritable if she didn’t get them. Afterward, however, she was especially pleasant, even jovial. On this particular morning, she made little effort to hide her disapproval for the whole party business. “What a fuss,” she exclaimed. “What a complete waste of time and money.”
“Will many people be invited?” I asked, intrigued by it all.
Millie flapped her hand about in the air. “Who knows? However many there are, you can be sure that most of them will get drunk beyond the limits of decency. As I recall, last time a few ended up in the pool.” Shaking her head in disapproval, Millie continued toward her room. “You won’t see me for three days before and after,” she snapped.
Later that same morning, Lillian and the consultant strolled the patio area together, chatting as they circumvented the pool. All the while, the woman jotted notes on her clipboard, nodding enthusiastically as Lillian spoke.
“What do you think about the fencing around the pool?” Lillian asked.
“I’m afraid it’ll have to come down,” the consultant replied. “Otherwise, we should consider another place…”
“Oh no, I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out,” Lillian replied confidently.
The party was in two weeks, and until then every day would be dedicated to its preparation. Additional landscapers were hired, and workmen came to repair loose tiles in the pool and to replace some of the surrounding brick that had broken or was altogether missing. New patio furniture was delivered a week before the party, and the old furniture was carted away. Work needed to be done inside the house as well. A different woman was hired to help Lillian decide how to rearrange the furniture. They spent quite a bit of time standing about in silence as they scanned the rooms. A word or two might pass between them, and suddenly the woman would spring to life to move a chair a few feet to the left, or to reposition a table slightly back, or to replace one painting wit
h another. And then they would again stand in silence to study the new arrangement.
I was so fascinated by this process that I made it a point to hover nearby whenever preparations were being discussed. One afternoon as Teddy and I played with his Legos in the courtyard, my attention became diverted when Lillian approached with the consultant. They were talking about what they would drape from the trees just as Teddy was talking about the truck he was building and the various bugs he planned to put inside. He asked me a question, and when I didn’t answer him right away, he put both of his hands on my cheeks and turned my face to look at him. Nose to nose, he stared at me with his big brown eyes, worried that maybe I didn’t find his world so interesting anymore and that he was losing me to the adult world. “Play with me, Nana,” he implored with real fear in his voice.
I took his hands and lightly kissed the little palms that smelled of peanut butter, his favorite snack that he happily ate with his fingers when he could. “Let’s build a really big truck,” I said.
“Yes, yes!” Teddy cried, delighted that I’d come back to him, and he rewarded me with a big hug as he pressed his cheek as hard as he could against mine.
I’d never heard Adam and Lillian argue, but one evening while Teddy, Millie, and I were eating in the kitchen, Millie held her hand up to shush me and inclined her head toward the door of the sunroom to listen.
Lillian’s voice was elevated and shrill. “As soon as the guests leave we’ll put the fencing back up,” she said.
Adam murmured his reply.
“The consultant says that it has to come down,” Lillian said more loudly.
Another murmured answer.
“No, I will not calm down and I will not lower my voice. I’m trying to make this a beautiful and unforgettable evening for our friends, and you don’t seem to care at all!”
Mr. Trellis said something else we couldn’t make out, and Lillian replied in the same agitated tone, “Damn you, Adam. I’ll be giving birth in a few weeks, and all I’m asking for is a little understanding. But it’s too much to ask for, isn’t it? Of course it is, because you are quite possibly the most stubborn and boring man I have ever known!” Her ranting degraded into a coughing kind of weepy sound and then we heard her footsteps as she ran out of the room.
Vigil Page 10
