“And exactly when do you plan to do that?”
“I’ll speak to them soon,” Adam replied weakly.
“I’m going to fight you on this until I’ve breathed my last, and I have many more breaths left in me than you do.”
“I’ll let my attorney know that he’d better start polishing his armor. Are you quite finished?”
After a pause, Lillian said, “I just have one question. Why did you choose to lower yourself in such a cowardly and predictable manner? Are you that desperate for affection that you’d turn to the hired help to get it?”
“Lower myself? I’d happily trade twenty years of misery with you for just twenty hours of bliss with Ana.”
“I take it back,” Lillian said. “I do pity you because it’s obvious that the cancer has spread to your brain, which will only make my job in court easier.” I then heard the clicking of Ms. Lillian’s heels and, moments later, the roar of her engine in the drive. Once I was certain she’d left the grounds, I returned to the rose garden, but my hands were trembling so terribly that I had difficulty maneuvering the clippers.
Adam hadn’t told me about his plans for the house, and I was frightened about what this meant. Why was he rearranging his affairs now? Had he had another conversation with the doctors that I didn’t know about? And how would the children react? I knew that Lillian wouldn’t wait for Adam to speak with them. Now that she’d confirmed it, she would tell them about the change in the trust immediately, and this would only serve to alienate them further.
The clippers slipped and as I went to catch them, the blade nicked the palm of my hand. I sat back and watched the blood pool and then run down my wrist and spill to the earth, where it was absorbed almost immediately. I don’t know how long I would’ve sat there watching myself bleed, but when I heard Adam calling for me, I hastily wiped away the blood with a tissue I found in my pocket and went to him.
“I saw Lillian drive off,” I said, nervously. “She seemed very upset.”
Adam nodded regretfully and slipped a reassuring arm around my shoulder. “We need to talk, Ana,” he said, and then he told me about the conversation he’d had with Lillian and the changes he’d made to the will. When I told him that I didn’t need or want the house and that I thought he should change the will back to the way it was before, he kissed me and said, “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say, but my mind is made up. And there’s nothing Lillian or the children, or even you, can say to change it.”
Jessie showed up a couple of weeks later. I was in the kitchen preparing a light supper, and I was so relieved when she said that she’d be eating with us, and not leaving in a burst of anger as Teddy had, that tears of gratitude sprung to my eyes as I chopped the vegetables.
She sat at the kitchen table for a while, saying very little. Finally she said, “Teddy believes that you and Dad were lovers for years and that that’s the real reason the marriage broke up. I have to admit that there were moments when I wondered as well. They way you and Daddy spoke to each other and looked at each other sometimes…”
I dropped my knife. “I swear to you, Jessie. Nothing ever happened between us. Your father never disrespected his marriage and neither did I.”
“I believe you, Nana. And I’m not upset about the house and the trust like Teddy is. I know that Daddy will always take care of us.” Jessie fingered the napkin on the table. “But Teddy believes that by giving you the house, Daddy’s putting you before us, and it just strengthens his belief that you were sneaking around together for years. But I’ve thought about it and I see it differently,” she said, setting the napkin aside and gazing up at me. “I believe that Daddy wants you to have the house because even though neither of you did anything about it, he’s loved you and you’ve loved him for years. Isn’t that the truth, Nana?”
I nodded, unable to deny the truth, no longer wanting to.
Tears welled up in Jessie’s eyes. “I see how happy you and Daddy are together, and I know he wants to live now more than ever, but he’s so sick, Nana,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m glad he has you.”
All the way to Dr. Farrell’s office, Adam was silent. He insisted that he felt well enough to drive, and that it helped him to feel useful. We waited in Dr. Farrell’s office for some time, and when he finally entered the room with the usual manila folder tucked under his arm, we both sat up eagerly in our chairs. He never spoke a word without referring to his folder, but we always knew whether the information contained within was good or bad by his expression. On this day his face was grim.
He spoke at length about the specific kind of cancer Adam had and how difficult it was to predict its course. Depending on an individual’s general health and response to treatment, some were able to survive for years after diagnosis, and others merely months. We’d heard all this before, and I realized that Dr. Farrell was stalling.
Adam’s hand reached out to mine as we listened to Dr. Farrell go on in agonizing detail about the treatments that had already been tried and the tests performed. Then Adam interrupted his friend in order to spare him and us. “Peter, I believe you’re trying to tell us that you’ve discovered another tumor, is that it?”
Dr. Farrell looked up from his folder and nodded, his glasses foggy and his lips trembling slightly in spite of his effort to remain stoic. “I’m sorry, Adam,” he said. “We’ll need to proceed with another round of chemo before we consider surgery. And then we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
Adam squeezed my hand and nodded his understanding. I, however, was numb. And after we left Dr. Farrell’s office, I became despondent and wept all the way home. Adam tried to comfort me, and I tried to compose myself and be courageous for his sake, but I couldn’t find the strength. I was losing my precious beloved and that’s all I could see, think, or hear at that moment.
When we got home, I leaned on Adam all the way to the front door. Anyone watching us would’ve thought that I was the one who was ill. Later that evening, I prayed the rosary for the first time in years, and when I was finished, I told Adam that I thought we should get a second opinion.
“Peter’s one of the best oncologists in the country,” he said. “I don’t think we’ll get any better news if we talk to someone else.”
“But you heard what Dr. Farrell said today. He said that the kind of cancer you have is very rare, and that researchers are learning about new treatments every day. Maybe another doctor will know something Dr. Farrell hasn’t heard about.”
Adam appeared dubious as he considered this possibility.
“Please, my love. It’s worth a try. We can proceed with the chemotherapy just as Dr. Farrell ordered and talk to another doctor in the meantime. What have we got to lose?”
A few days later I had just set potatoes to boil on the stove when I heard the front door and the familiar clicking of heels coming toward the kitchen. I turned to find Lillian standing in the doorway, her hair cascading like an auburn waterfall over her shoulders. The darker tone at her temples let me know that she’d recently had it colored.
“Hello, Ana,” she said smoothly. “How are you doing on this glorious afternoon?”
“I’m fine.”
“And how’s the patient?”
“He’s resting and I don’t want to disturb him,” I replied, feeling exquisitely awkward to be keeping Lillian from her own husband.
“Don’t worry, it’s you I want to speak with,” she said coolly, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “My goodness, Ana, you look like a scared rabbit. If you think for one moment that I begrudge you your intimacy with my husband, then you’re very mistaken. Anyway, I know better than anyone that you’re not sleeping with a man, but with the shadow of a man who is only able to please you with his music, and perhaps not even that.”
My face colored deeply. I was embarrassed to admit, especially to her, that despite his illness, Adam remained a very sensual and loving man. “There are more important things than physical love, Ms. Lilli
an,” I replied.
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s precisely why I’m here.” She produced an envelope from her bag and placed it squarely on the kitchen table. “My attorney assures me that any last-minute changes Adam may have made to his will can be revoked with little difficulty. He’s a dying man, emotionally unstable and easily manipulated by any opportunists that may be around him.”
“He knows I don’t want anything from him.”
“Well then, this should be an easy decision for you to make,” she said, placing her hand on the envelope. “These documents state that you unequivocally surrender all claims to the Trellis estate. In exchange for your signature, you will receive a handsome sum of money. The only other condition is that you leave this house immediately and never return.”
“You’re paying me to go away?”
Lillian smiled sweetly. “You know how principled Teddy is. As long as you’re here, he would never agree to see his father again. But if you leave, I think there’s a good chance he will. In fact, I’m sure of it. I understand that Jessie’s already made up her mind about it,” she said with a dismissive little shrug.
I stared at the envelope. “But I promised Adam I wouldn’t leave him.”
“Who do you think he’d rather have at his side now, you or his children?”
I stared dumbly at the envelope.
Ms. Lillian sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Ever since Teddy made his unfortunate discovery and stormed out of here, Peter tells me that Adam’s taken a turn for the worst. He needs his children more than anyone or anything. He needs them even more than he needs you.” She leaned forward and pushed the envelope toward me. “Take the money and go make your own life so that Adam can end his with his family by his side. It will be the kindest thing you ever did for anyone and the best thing you ever did for yourself.”
That said, she took up her purse and strode out of the house.
I sat there for some time, staring at the envelope in front of me and before long I became aware of a whispering in my heart. “Angry words are difficult to take back, mija, and more words are seldom enough to make it better.”
“Then what do I do, Mama?”
“Exactly,” she said. “You must do something and leave the words to the priests and the poets.”
Before the potatoes were tender, I knew what I had to do.
Seventeen
ANA SHOWED THE NURSE up to Adam’s room. He was just beginning to wake, and it took him a moment or two to comprehend that she’d come to draw a blood sample. He obediently extended his arm as Ana left to take Benson’s call in the next room.
“Teddy has the papers. I dropped them off not twenty minutes ago,” he said.
“Are you sure he understands what they mean?”
“I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” Benson replied. “I clearly explained that his father thought it over and decided to change his will and bequeath the house back to his children. I showed him the signature and urged him to go and see Adam as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Benson. I’m sure he’ll be here shortly.”
“I hope you’re right,” Benson said, his voice shaky. “Lillian was there as well and, as you can imagine, she wasn’t very happy to be left out of the will. I’m sure she’s filling Teddy’s head with more venom as we speak.”
“He’ll come,” Ana said.
“I hope you’re right, Ana. Because if you’re not…”
“I know him,” Ana said. “He’ll come.”
She hung up and made her way back to her beloved’s room. The nurse was finishing up and packing her bag as quietly as she could so as not to disturb her patient, who was resting peacefully again. “Oops, I almost forgot,” she whispered. “Dr. Farrell wanted me to take a blood sample from you as well.”
“Me? But why?”
“He’s concerned that you may be anemic. It’s easy to correct if you are, but he wants to be sure before he prescribes anything.”
Ana nodded, remembering their conversation earlier that morning. He wanted her to rest and eat something right away, which of course she hadn’t done. She had no doubt that the blood test would reveal a condition far more serious than anemia; nevertheless she obediently extended her arm as Adam had moments earlier. The nurse tied a band around her arm to expose the vein and prepared the syringe. Ana closed her eyes and waited for the needle’s stick.
For several nights after Teddy stormed out, Adam was unable to sleep. He’d toss and turn fitfully, occasionally crying out. I asked him to tell me about his nightmares, but he didn’t want to. I heard the wheezing deep in his lungs and sensed the waning strength of the muscles in his arms and chest and all throughout his body. And when he coughed, the sound echoed from somewhere so deep that it seemed he was coughing up bits of his soul.
Once or twice after dinner we retired to the music room, and I sat next to him on the piano bench as he played, hoping that this would revive him, but he was unable to play for more than a few minutes without feeling exhausted, and I would help him to the couch, where we would sit together in silence for a long while.
“Tell me truly, Ana,” he said on one such occasion. “Do you have any regrets? Do you look back on your life and wish that you’d left this place long ago?”
“I have no regrets,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder. “Well, maybe just one. I wish that we could’ve been together like this sooner. And you?” I asked. “Do you have any regrets?”
“Aside from what you just said, only one,” he said with a sigh.
I knew he was referring to his outburst with Teddy, who still refused to return his calls or his letters. Only once did Adam hear from him, and that was indirectly through Lillian. She’d left her cruel message on the answering machine while we were away at the clinic.
“Stop harassing Teddy with your pitiful apologies, Adam. As far as he’s concerned, you’re already dead.”
I lifted my head and repeated what I’d been saying to him for several days. “I don’t need or want this house, Adam. Give it back to the children. If you do, Teddy will understand that no matter what you said and what happened before, he’s still your son and you love him.”
“Ana,” he said, taking my hand, “when my parents were killed, the love in this house died with them. But when you came, you brought the love back and made it a home again. Maybe you don’t need this house, but it needs you. I can’t completely explain why or how, but I know that this is the right thing to do.”
“But Adam…”
“That’s what my God is telling me to do. You don’t expect me to go against his wishes, do you?”
“No,” I muttered.
“Then please don’t ask me again.”
It was a beautiful afternoon when we drove home from Adam’s appointment a few days later. The sun cast a shimmering light through the trees, and its warmth was deliciously mild. Even so, our hearts were heavy. Adam had agreed to a second opinion only to appease me, but he’d already resigned himself to the dark reality that I was unwilling to accept.
We were about midway home when he pulled the car to a stop at the side of the road and turned to me, his eyes gray with fatigue. “Ana, do you mind driving?” he asked. “I’m tired and I’m afraid I might nod off.”
We exchanged seats and as I drove, Adam fell asleep with his hand on my knee. Before long his fingers began to flutter slightly, and I realized that in his dream he was playing the piano. I was pleased to know that at least in his dreams he was still able to play, and when we drove past the gate and into the drive, his fingers were still moving. I hated to wake him, so I turned the motor off, intent to stay where I was until he woke, but the sudden stillness prompted him to open his eyes with a start. I came around to his side of the car, and he leaned on me as I slipped my hand around his waist.
“Ana, for such a dainty little sparrow you’re very strong,” he observed as we entered the house.
I expected that he’d want to go to his stud
y, but he hesitated as we passed the stairs.
“I think I might like to lie down for a bit,” he said.
“Now? If you sleep now you might not be able to sleep tonight.”
He considered what I said, for my sake more than his, but didn’t make a step toward his study.
“Of course, I can wake you at dinnertime, and then you’ll be more rested and you’ll probably have a better appetite.”
“That’s a good point,” he said, and we proceeded up the stairs, more slowly than we ever had before. I helped him get undressed and into bed, and he was asleep before I finished hanging up his slacks.
“Ma’am? Ma’am?”
Ana opened her eyes to find the nurse all packed up and ready to go.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m leaving and that I’ll be back in a couple of days,” she said.
“Yes, thank you,” Ana replied, surprised that she’d nodded off.
“Hopefully Mr. Trellis will sleep through the night so you can rest as well.”
It was then that Jessie rushed into the room, her eyes big and round as plates. “He’s here, Nana,” she said.
Ana stood up, nearly knocking over the nurse’s bag. “Who’s here?”
“Teddy. He just drove up.”
“Are you sure it’s him?”
“I know his car.”
Adam heard the commotion and opened his eyes. “What is it, Ana?”
“He’s here, my love,” Ana said, kneeling beside him. “Teddy’s come to see you.”
Eighteen
BY THE TIME JESSIE and I made it to the top of the stairs, Millie was already at the front door. When she opened it, she was momentarily speechless and then she pulled Teddy into a hearty embrace. After so many months of not seeing him or hearing from him, I longed to embrace him as well and tell him all about his father and how our hearts were breaking with every hour that passed without him and how much we’d been thinking about him during this vigil. But I knew that he wasn’t ready to hear these things from me and that he probably never would be.
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