Vigil

by Cecilia Samartin

  I stared up at him for a moment or two, my mind completely blank.

  “Ana, what in the world is the matter with you? You look very strange.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? How can you not know?”

  “I…I…guess I’m not feeling very well either.”

  “You too?” he asked incredulous. “All right, I’ll go find Lillian myself and then maybe she can tell me about this mysterious illness that seems to be going around.” He went to the door and opened it just as I heard Jerome making his way down the hall, his easel knocking about as he went toward the front door. Not knowing what else to do, I gasped and collapsed into a heap on the floor.

  Mr. Trellis rushed to my side. “Ana,” he said tapping my cheeks gently. “Ana, can you hear me?” When I didn’t answer him, he slipped his hands under me and carried me to the sofa. His nearness made me feel warm and alive as if a river had suddenly forged itself through my soul. I longed for him to place his head on my shoulder and rest with me as we waited together for the danger to pass, but he didn’t touch me again.

  When I finally opened my eyes he was watching me, undeniably worried. “You look pale. Have you eaten anything today?” he asked, and the deep sound of his voice so close to my ear made me feel weak and wonderful all at once.

  “Just a little breakfast,” I mumbled.

  “No lunch?”

  I shook my head, wishing for him to remain kneeling next to me, breathing over me, concerned for my well-being—because all at once my life felt blissfully complete.

  “You should eat more, Ana. You’re far too thin.”

  “Yes,” I said, gazing into his eyes that were so close I could see the black of his pupils against the deep brown of his irises. Until that moment, I hadn’t really noticed what lovely eyes he had, so shiny and dark, so expressive.

  Before he could say anything else, the door of the study was flung open. Lillian entered in her bathrobe and with her hair wrapped up in a towel, as though she’d just stepped out of the shower.

  She was alarmed to see me lying on the couch and her husband kneeling next to me. “What’s wrong with Ana?” she asked.

  “I was just on my way to go find you when she collapsed,” Mr. Trellis replied.

  I swallowed my emotions as best I could. “I wasn’t feeling well, Ms. Lillian, and…and everything went black.”

  She said nothing, but nodded her understanding.

  Mr. Trellis said, “I’m going to ask Peter to come by and take a look at you.”

  “I’m sure that isn’t necessary,” I said, sitting up. “Once I get something in my stomach I’ll feel better, and Millie’s been with the children for far too long.”

  Lillian flashed me a grateful look and took her husband by the hand, leading him smoothly to the door. “Let’s give Ana a moment longer to rest. Did you want to speak with me about something?”

  Later that evening, after I’d put the children down, I was in the kitchen preparing a cup of tea when Millie entered in search of a snack. She was teetering on her feet and I detected the odor of whiskey on her breath, which always intensified at night. “Are you feeling better after your fainting spell?” she asked, sidling up next to me.

  “Yes, much better.”

  She went to the refrigerator and after rummaging about, tossed ham and cheese on the counter and proceeded to make herself a sandwich. “You hardly ate any dinner. Would you like me to fix you a sandwich?”

  “That would be nice. Thank you, Millie.”

  She started to slather four slices of bread with butter and mustard as she hummed a happy little tune. “It’s a funny thing,” she said as she worked, “after Adam got home this afternoon, I saw that artist Jerome running to his car as if he were being chased by wild dogs.” Millie smiled a silly lopsided smile. “And I could’ve sworn that his shirt was on inside out,” she said, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Funny, isn’t it?”

  I said nothing as I sipped my tea.

  “And what a fight those two had while you were resting in the study. Did you hear any of it?” Millie asked while slicing the sandwiches in two.

  I shook my head, grateful for my ignorance.

  “Well, I couldn’t make all of it out because Lillian was more hysterical than usual, but I know it had something to do with Darwin’s birthday surprise for his brother. It seems that he arranged for the portrait, but forgot to arrange for the payment,” Millie said, pushing the sandwich across the counter toward me. “My guess is that the invoice was sent to Adam’s office by mistake and now the surprise is ruined.” Millie clucked her tongue. “Or it could be that Lillian felt sorry for Darwin, and told him to bill her husband instead. Do you think that might be what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, fingering my sandwich.

  “That woman is so darned selfless,” she said. “Who would ever guess that there was a saint living among us?” Millie peered at my untouched sandwich. “What’s the matter, Ana, did I put too much mustard?”

  “No, I’m just not that hungry after all.”

  “You still look a bit pale. Maybe this place is finally getting to you.”

  “I just need to get some rest. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  “Yes, tomorrow,” Millie said with a bright cackle that ejected a few pieces of semichewed sandwich onto the counter. “Another day filled with familial harmony and bliss. You go write about it in your letters, Ana. Let the sisters know all about this nice family you’re working for. And give them my regards, would you?”

  Never had I yearned more for the peace and tranquillity of the convent. If I could just curl up in my little cell and sleep undisturbed until the morning prayer bells woke me, I knew that all would be well again. After breakfast, I’d tell Mother Superior that life outside the convent was not for me. It was filled with too much pain and deception, and I would never find meaning in the chaos. It was no better than the civil war of my childhood, a place devoid of God and goodness, and on certain days it felt as though I were walking barefoot along an endless road of broken glass. I couldn’t make sense of what I’d seen that afternoon, and even less of the growing tenderness I felt for Mr. Trellis.

  I was almost asleep, comforted by the thought that in only a few weeks I’d be back at the convent where I belonged, when I heard Teddy calling for me in his plaintive little voice. I threw on my robe and ran to him. By the glow of his night-light I saw the anxiety on his face. “Nana, my Nana,” he said, holding his arms out to me.

  “What’s wrong, Teddy? Did you have another bad dream?” But when I stepped into his room, I became aware of a familiar foul odor.

  Teddy’s bottom lip quivered. “I went poopoo in my pajamas,” he said.

  I rushed to help him out of bed and put him in a warm tub to soak while I changed his sheets.

  When he was fresh and tucked back into a clean bed, he said, “Please don’t tell Mommy and Daddy, okay, Nana?”

  “It was an accident. I’m sure they’d understand.”

  “No, Nana!” he said, grabbing my arm. “I don’t want them to know. Please don’t tell them.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell them,” I said, certain that he wouldn’t have gone to sleep if I’d said otherwise. Even so, he whimpered for a good half hour before he was able to close his eyes again. When I got back into my own bed I could still detect the odor of excrement. I got up and scrubbed my hands again until they were raw, careful to clean under my nails and up to my wrists and elbows. I changed my nightgown for good measure and inspected my bedsheets a second time. Everything was clean, but the odor lingered through the night.

  The next day, Mr. Trellis returned home from work at the usual hour and asked to speak with me in his study. Still shaky from the events of the previous day, I dreaded facing him, certain that this time he’d see the guilty truth in my eyes. Whenever I thought about how I’d partnered with Lillian to deceive him, I felt such an aching shame in the pit of my stomach tha
t I was unable to eat.

  I entered the study and realized that the man sitting behind the desk was not the same man I’d met on my first day. While he was still large and somewhat menacing, he was also vulnerable and burdened by a great sadness I didn’t understand. It was odd that this man who I considered to be the epitome of masculine strength that frightened me so should also remind me of the gentle sisters who I missed so much. I was drawn to him, and trying to deny it was like trying to deceive God. But still, I could implore him to protect me from these overpowering thoughts and feelings, and this is what I did as I walked toward Mr. Trellis’s desk.

  Our eyes met and he was thoughtful. I knew by now that Mr. Trellis wasn’t one to indulge in unrestrained emotion. He measured each moment for what it was worth and then decided what to do and say. He motioned for me to have a seat. “How was your day, Ana?” he asked.

  “Very nice. The children enjoyed their time in the garden. It was such a beautiful afternoon.”

  “Was it?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “When I drove to work this morning it was dark and it was also dark when I left for home, so I have no idea what kind of day it was.”

  “Perhaps you’re working too hard, Mr. Trellis.”

  “Perhaps,” he said, dismissing the thought. Then he turned his attention to an opened letter on his desk. “This letter just arrived today. It’s from Flor. She won’t be coming back as she’d planned. It seems that her sister died and she needs to stay in Mexico to look after her nieces and nephews, who are now orphaned.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” I said, my stomach tightening.

  “I realize that you were planning to return to the convent after these six months, but I’m hoping that I can persuade you to stay with us for a few months longer.”

  It seemed strange that I would be discussing this matter with Mr. Trellis and not with Lillian or even with Millie. Of course, Lillian had been avoiding me since yesterday, and I suspected that she would continue to do so for some time longer. Probably she’d asked her husband to talk to me for her on some pretext or another.

  It would’ve been easy for me to explain to Lillian or Millie that I was expected back at the convent and that postponing my return would push everything back several months. I wouldn’t be able to take my vows until the following year and I had no doubt that Mother Superior would be disappointed in me. But with Mr. Trellis I felt undone and confused about the whole matter. It was as though an invisible hand had suddenly muddled my plans and turned them inside out.

  “It would just be for a few months longer,” he said in response to my ongoing silence. “And I’ll pay you a higher wage as well.” He appeared encouraged, and looking at him I felt dizzy as though I were breathing rarefied air. And then I remembered how Lillian had described his effect on her when she first met him. “When Adam wants something, he goes after it until he gets what he wants. I was powerless against him.”

  He wanted me to stay and the only thing that mattered at that moment was the hopefulness I saw in his eyes. I wanted to please him, to ease whatever anxiety he felt about the children or anything else, and this feeling was stronger than my desire to return to the convent. “Very well, tomorrow I’ll inform Mother Superior that I’ll be staying on for a few more months,” I said.

  “Thank you, Ana,” he replied with a sigh of relief. “Millie and Lillian will be very happy to know it, but I’m sure Teddy and Jessie will be happiest of all.”

  And you, I yearned to ask. How do you feel about it? And then I lowered my head, willing with all my heart and soul for these strange feelings to pass away. Mr. Trellis cleared his throat and I looked up. Our talk was finished and I could see that he was expecting me to leave, so I hastily left the study and went about my usual duties. As I prepared the children for bed, my mind was preoccupied with how I’d talk to Mother Superior about my decision to stay on without giving her the impression that my conviction for a holy life was in any way weakening.

  But it is weakening, a voice whispered deep in my soul. You have found a new passion, one that makes your life not only a recompense for the past, but a reconciliation for the future.

  The next day, I called Mother Superior and carefully explained about Flor, who was still in Mexico, and her sister’s death and the orphaned children, saying more about it than Mr. Trellis had, perhaps embellishing a bit more than I should have. I hoped that she would consider my decision to remain with the Trellis family to be a selfless and charitable act, but I knew that in spite of my sincere commitment to the family, it was more than that. I was indulging myself with something wonderful that I didn’t understand, and until I discovered what it was, I would never return to the convent.

  Seven

  ANA STEPPED IN CLOSER to the portrait and traced her fingers along the outlines of the three faces she knew so well. She felt the smooth and rough contour of the thickly applied oil paint and studied the individual brushstrokes. Close up, they looked like nothing but a series of disconnected shapes and lines, splotches of color carelessly applied, layer upon layer. But as she stepped back, the picture came into sharp focus and she couldn’t help but smile when she beheld Teddy’s impish grin and the wide eyes that made Jessie look as though she were perpetually startled. “She’s an observer,” Ana would explain when Lillian noted that her daughter rarely blinked. “She’s just taking it all in.”

  Ana was surprised when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Ana, my dear,” Sister Josepha said. “I believe that someone has just pulled up to the front of the house.”

  Ana went quickly to the window, hoping against hope that Teddy had finally come to his senses, but she instantly recognized the shiny bald crown of Benson’s head and the requisite briefcase swinging at his side as he walked briskly to the front door.

  “It isn’t who you were hoping it would be, is it?” Sister Josepha asked gently.

  Ana turned to the older woman and smiled. “No, but Benson is a dear friend and I’m glad he’s here.”

  Sister Josepha took Ana’s hand and tucked it under her arm as they walked down the corridor toward the stairs. “I’m sure the person you’re waiting for will come,” Sister Josepha said, and when Ana considered the contents of Benson’s briefcase, she had no doubt that she was right.

  Sensing that Ana needed to speak to this visitor alone, Sister Josepha headed to the kitchen while Ana opened the front door. Benson’s cheeks were rosy and he was slightly winded after having rushed up the front steps. Ana embraced him, noting that in only a few days he’d put on more weight, or perhaps it was that she’d lost weight. He smiled, but his kindly eyes remained somber. Once in the entry hall, he swung his briefcase up to the sideboard.

  “Is everything in order?” Ana whispered.

  Benson looked around as though searching for imaginary spies. “Is the room bugged?” he asked.

  Ana folded her arms across her chest. “No, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “I’m glad,” he replied. “Because if this gets out, I could lose my license and my law practice. I could even go to jail.”

  “I appreciate the risk you’re taking…with all my heart.”

  Benson remained glum. “And do you realize that Adam would never approve of this? If he knew I was helping you, he’d disown me as a friend. Maybe he’d disown you too.”

  “Benson, please, do you think this is easy for me?”

  He shook his head. “Do you want to know what I really think?”

  “Of course,” Ana replied, lifting her chin.

  “I think this is far too easy for you. You haven’t thought it through beyond the next few days, but when this is all over, as it must be…” He took her hand. “As it must be,” he repeated, in spite of the anguish in her eyes. “Then what becomes of you and your future?”

  “I don’t have a future,” Ana said.

  “What are you talking about?” Benson asked, taking her other hand. “Of course you do.”

  Ana gently retrieved her hands. “De
ar, dear Benson,” she whispered.

  Flush with emotion, he was about to say something more when Jessie appeared on the staircase. When she saw the old family friend, she rushed down the rest of the way and welcomed him with a warm embrace.

  “Daddy and I were just talking about you,” she said.

  Benson grinned and tucked his thumbs into his belt. “Were you discussing my good looks and athletic prowess on the golf course?”

  Jessie chuckled weakly. “Neither,” she replied. Then, turning to Ana, “You’re right, Daddy’s doing better than I thought he was.”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Ana replied brightly. “You should go up now, Benson. In a little while he’ll need to rest again, and I know he wants to see you.”

  Benson took his briefcase with him upstairs while Ana and Jessie proceeded to the kitchen.

  “Did I tell you that Sister Josepha is here?” Ana asked, circling her arm around Jessie’s waist. “You so enjoyed her company last time she visited.”

  “That was a long time ago, Nana. I don’t think I was even ten years old.”

  “Was it that long ago?”

  The two women were almost to the kitchen when Jessie said, “Nana, when I was a little girl you used to tell me that if we prayed for something with all our heart and soul, God would always listen. So, I was thinking that maybe if you and Sister Josepha and I pray together now, harder than we’ve ever prayed for anything, God will grant us a miracle. Do you think it’ll work, Nana?”

  “I don’t know,” Ana replied, tightening her grip on the young woman. “But I think it’s definitely worth a try.”

  They entered the kitchen and once Sister Josepha and Jessie greeted each other, the three women sat down at the table. As Sister Josepha led them in prayer, Ana’s thoughts constantly turned to Benson. Would he get Adam to sign the documents? Would he betray her confidence? Ana trusted Benson implicitly, but still she worried. She tried to concentrate on Sister Josepha’s words, but as had been true since the sun rose that morning, she was unable to calm herself with anything but her own memories.