The inquisition began over the dinner table the following evening.
“How did the boy look? Is he all right? Where is he now? You should have stayed longer. Don’t tell me you came back because of Maggie.”
Billie stared across the width of the table at her father-in-law. “Moss is fine. He looks wonderful. I don’t know where he is. The navy didn’t confide in me. Thad is with him. So are the others.”
“What did you do while he was off duty? My God, girl, don’t you understand I want to know everything about my son?”
Billie scooped out the soft mush of her baked potato, added a glob of sour cream, and then stirred it into a thick paste. Not because she wanted to eat it, but just to have something to do with her hands. “We talked about Maggie a lot. We took long walks on the beach. We went swimming early in the morning and late at night. When Moss was restricted, Thad Kingsley took me sight-seeing. I didn’t have all that much time with Moss. In fact, if you want, I could total up the hours. I doubt that they would come to a full week.”
Agnes broke a piece of bread and then crumbled it in her fingers. She had never heard such a resentful tone in her daughter’s voice. She glanced at Seth.
Seth pierced his daughter-in-law with his bright gaze. “Why did Kingsley have to take you sight-seeing? Why didn’t Moss take you? I know he doesn’t like that piss-assed business, but it was your first visit. Just how thick are those two?”
“I told you, Seth, Moss was restricted. Thad was good enough to take me around to see the sights. Moss asked him to do it. He’s very nice. He’s Moss’s best friend. They depend on each other.”
“How was the barbecue?”
“The barbecue was a huge success. Practically everyone was there. Officers and their wives, some enlisted men, and a few Hawaiian civilians who worked on the base. Thad took pictures and Moss said he was going to send the film on to you to have developed. It lasted till three in the morning. A crew from the mess took the leftover beef back to the base. I think they made hash out of it. At least that’s what Thad said.”
“Did he send a letter? Did he give you a message for me?” Seth demanded. Billie stared into Seth’s bright, hopeful gaze.
“He said to tell you he loved you and Mam very much and his next meatball was for you.”
Agnes laid down her fork and reached for her water glass. Her eyes met Billie’s. She recognized the lie and nodded approvingly. Billie’s shoulders squared imperceptibly at the satisfied look on her father-in-law’s face.
Billie excused herself and left the table. She wanted to spend some time with Jessica. The brief hour after luncheon hardly counted. She’d been appalled at the change in her mother-in-law on her return. Feeble was the only word she could come up with. Billie knew little or nothing about it; but she could sense that Jessica was dying. There was a lost look in the sunken, hollow eyes and a vagueness to her words that made Billie ache.
Jessica was napping, her rosary clutched in her hand. Prayer seemed to give her comfort even if she got the words mixed up. He knew what she was saying and thinking. He understood.
Billie stood at the window looking out at an arthritic-looking oak on the lawn. It was older than Jessica and would live many more years, dutifully giving shade in the summer and firewood when the limbs were trimmed. What more could a person ask of a tree? And what was expected from this frail creature in her high-necked dimity nightdress? Nothing. Her life was over. Dutiful fifteen-minute visits by Agnes and Seth. And the nurse, at Billie’s firm-eyed insistence, would bring the baby every day.
Jessica woke just as Billie turned around. She smiled. “How are you, Billie? Did I fall asleep again? Lately I can’t seem to stay awake. Forgive me, child. Please, sit down and tell me more about your trip. Would you mind terribly starting from the beginning? I fear I forgot most of what you told me earlier. But Billie, before you start, did you send off my letter to Amelia?”
“Yes, I did. I posted it right after lunch. Get comfortable and I’ll tell you everything, right down to the beautiful monkeypod tree in the yard.” Billie settled herself comfortably in a high wingback chair. An hour into her monologue Jessica’s eyelids closed. Billie continued to speak for a few more minutes. Then, satisfied that Maggie’s grandmother was soundly sleeping, Billie tiptoed about the room, turning off the lamps. She tilted the lamp shade on the night table so the light wouldn’t bother Jessica and bent over to kiss the dry, wrinkled cheek.
Billie closed the door and went across the hall to her own room, thinking about the letter to Amelia she had included with Jessica’s. After three pages of doings in Sunbridge and news of her father and Moss, Billie had thrown caution to the winds and written that, in her opinion, Jessica was dying. “If there’s any way,” Billie had written, “please try to come home. We all understand the war is making things impossible, but if need be I’m sure that your father will intervene and help you.” She had signed it “Billie.”
Billie woke slowly and knew there was something wrong. It was early in the morning, a month to the day after her return from Hawaii. It took barely two minutes for her sleep-filled brain to register that she was going to be sick. She bolted from the bed and raced for the bathroom. Her knuckles were as white as the rim of the basin she was gripping.
Agnes and Seth, on their way down the hall to a sunrise breakfast, heard the sounds from Billie’s half-opened door. Their eyes locked, but neither missed a step.
Billie looked at her wretched reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her face was the color of a week-old mushroom. When she fell back against the pillows, she knew she didn’t need a calendar to tell her what was wrong. She was pregnant. Somehow she had known. It must have happened the day Moss had been late back to the base.
Billie buried her face in the pillow and wept. Eight more months of misery. “Oh, Moss,” she cried.
It was midmorning when Billie made her first attempt to get up. Her head reeled sickeningly. She swallowed hard and managed to get to her feet. By the time she had showered and dressed, she felt slightly better. Some tea and toast would help and then she would place a call to the doctor. He was going to be shocked that she’d ignored his advice. And right now she wished she had paid more attention.
When Billie’s feet touched the bottom of the steps she looked up to see her mother walking across the wide central hallway. She was alone, which was odd because lately she and Seth were like each other’s shadow. “Where’s Seth?” she blurted.
“Out riding—why do you ask?” Agnes said sharply.
“No reason. Mother, join me for some tea. I want to talk to you. If you aren’t too busy, that is.”
“My, aren’t we feisty this morning. Are you all right, Billie? Is there something bothering you? Can I help?”
Her mother’s solicitousness prompted Billie to link arms with her. It had been a long time since there had been any closeness between the two of them. Since before she met Moss.
The tea was warm and spicy. Agnes stirred sugar into her cup and waited expectantly. “It’s about Jessica, Mother. I’m sure you must know she doesn’t have long. Will you ask Seth to see if he can get Amelia back home? I wrote to her but haven’t heard anything. It could be months before she ever gets my letter and Jessica doesn’t have months, Mother. Seth has powerful friends. It will be awful if Amelia doesn’t get here in time.”
Agnes felt confused. This wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Surely Jessica wasn’t as bad off as Billie thought. Seth didn’t seem overly concerned. “Darling,” she said, “Jessica is ailing but she’s nowhere near the end. The doctor’s been most encouraging lately. I admit Jessica had a setback after you left for Hawaii, but she’s on the mend now. If I do as you ask, Seth will think we’re busybodies—he won’t thank us; I can tell you that.”
Billie’s back stiffened. “Does that mean you won’t speak to him?” Agnes nodded. “Then I’ll speak to him myself.”
“Billie, do you have any idea of what yo
u’re asking? We’re at war. England is an exploding powderkeg. I doubt very much anyone can come home to the States now.”
“We have to try. Mother, don’t you care?”
“Of course I care. But you’re asking the impossible. I don’t think Seth’s influential friends can help him in this.”
“I don’t see why not. Seth’s influential friends helped him send a Red Cross plane full of food to Hawaii,” Billie said bitterly. “This is a little more serious and a lot more important. It’s a question of Jessica seeing her daughter before she dies.”
“All right, Billie. I’ll speak to Seth. But I can tell you right now that he’s not going to be able to do anything. There’s a war going on over there.”
“There’s going to be a war going on right here if someone doesn’t do something,” Billie snapped. “Excuse me, Mother. I have a phone call to make and then I want to read to Jessica for a while. You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to really take some time when you visit with her. Now that you’re the mistress of Sunbridge, I would have thought . . . well, never mind, Mother. I’ll talk with you later.”
Her little Billie was making demands! She never thought she would live to see the day. Agnes diddled with the spoon in her cup, clinking it against the edge. She would tactfully lead Seth into a conversation concerning his daughter and see what developed. Jessica wasn’t dying. Or was she? Men had a way of not seeing what was right in front of their noses. This was something she was going to have to check out herself. Before she spoke to. Seth.
Billie watched her mother’s performance later in the day. Jessica made the effort and rallied for a short time for Agnes’s benefit, appearing alert and aware of what was going on about her. It wasn’t until Agnes left that the frail old woman collapsed against the pillows.
Billie ran to her. “Jess, are you all right? Should I call the doctor? Lie quiet and let me get your medicine. Why? Why did you exert yourself like that?”
Jessica lay quietly for a long time, the transparent eyelids closed. When she finally did speak it was with an effort. Billie had to strain to hear the words. “It’s expected, Billie. Your mother has grit. I admire that. I never had grit. Seth admires that in women. I couldn’t let your mother see me at less than my best. Yes, child, it has cost me but it was something I had to do. Give me my medicine and I’ll sleep. Why don’t you go in to Maggie now. Spend time with your daughter, Billie. Don’t make the same mistakes I made. Love her, Billie.”
“I will. Swallow this down and I’ll be back later to check on you.”
“Bless you, child. I think sometimes you’re more like my own daughter than a daughter-in-law.”
“No one can ever take a daughter’s place,” Billie said softly. Jessica was already asleep, an unhealthy blue tinge on her lips.
Dinner that evening was strained. Billie ate with her eyes lowered, volunteering nothing to the conversation. She was about to excuse herself to take her dessert and coffee with Jessica, when Seth fixed her with his steely gaze.
“Aggie here tells me you think Amelia should be brought home. She tells me you think Jess isn’t long for this world. Now where would a slip of a girl like you get an idea like that?”
Billie swallowed past the lump in her throat. “From Jessica,” she replied coolly.
Seth grimaced. “I’m the first to admit that Jess looks a mite peaked, but the Grim Reaper’s a far piece down the road. I can’t be asking my friends for favor upon favor. How is that going to look?”
Billie stood up. “I imagine it’s going to look the same way it looked when you sent two longhorn steers to Hawaii for a barbecue to impress some top brass. Excuse me, Mother, Seth.”
“You wanted backbone, you just saw backbone. I’d give this some real serious thought, Seth,” Agnes said softly. “Some real serious thought.”
“Spunk, Aggie. I wanted to see spunk. There’s a world of difference between backbone and spunk. Like Rhode Island compared to Texas, if you get what I mean.”
Agnes sat up a little straighter in her chair. “I’m afraid, Mr. Coleman, that you’re going to have to settle for backbone. Personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Agnes tossed down her napkin. Seth was reminded of another time when she had done exactly the same thing. He watched her ramrod-straight back exit the dining room.
Tita asked permission to remove his dinner plate. “Fetch me a coffee and a brandy and I’ll drink it here at the table,” he ordered.
Bring Amelia home, he thought speculatively. Go to the top and ask for another favor. Too soon. Much too soon. Go straight to the Red Cross. Possible. That damn fool doctor hadn’t indicated that Jessica was seriously ailing, but the girl sounded so positive. Too damn positive. He felt guilty for a few seconds. He should have spent more time these past weeks with Jess. Up there all alone, of course she would feel badly. Make more of her illness than there was. When you didn’t have anything to do with your time but pray for all the sinners of the world, your mind was sure to come up with all kinds of terrible thoughts. Death was so goddamn terrible. It was also inconvenient as hell. For those left behind.
He made a mental note to get a letter off to the Red Cross asking them to help grease the wheels for Amelia. He’d write the damn letter himself. His daughter probably wouldn’t even want to come home. All this damn fuss because of that little Yankee gal. All he’d wanted was a little spunk, a little grit, some starch to the girl. Well, he wasn’t giving in; he was compromising. It was important that everyone understand that. He’d make damn sure they all understood, and the first person he was going to inform was Moss. He’d write him a long letter this evening. Spell things out a little.
He was in a foul mood now. The girl could do that to him without even trying. Sometimes when he just looked at her he would get angry. He could literally feel his blood pressure shoot up. Times like now. Then he remembered the sounds he and Agnes had heard coming from her room this very morning. His mood lightened and he started to whistle. He called for a cigar and another shot of brandy.
The moment Billie stepped into the wide front hallway she knew something was different. An unnatural stillness seemed to permeate the very air. She found herself taking a long deep breath and holding it. What? Who? Maggie? Jessica? Never Seth or Agnes.
Billie released her indrawn breath with an explosive sound. She knew. She didn’t need anyone to tell her Jessica was no longer a member of this earth. She knew.
She put her parcels and packages down on a cowhide-covered bench. There were two new mystery novels and a monstrous sack of licorice for Jessica. Jessica. Billie sat down with a thump on the cowhide seat, unmindful that the packages toppled to the floor. She didn’t want to go upstairs. She didn’t want to walk into that room where Jessica would be lying. Somebody should be about. Agnes, Seth, Tita . . . or were they all locked away in their rooms, telling themselves that Jessica just looked a little peaked?
Amelia! Amelia could never get here in time. Moss. Moss might not get the news for days, possibly weeks. The ground would be cold, the rains would come, and it would be all over.
The climb up the wide circular stairway was the longest she could remember. Her grip on the mahogany banister was like a vise that opened and closed. The empty bed, the coverlet and sheet tossed back as though Jessica had gone to the bathroom, brought a wild look to Billie’s eyes.
Maggie! Billie’s step quickened. But Maggie was lying in her crib gurgling happily. The nurse was knitting in the rocker. Her eyes met Billie’s.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Coleman. I know how fond you were of the elder Mrs. Coleman. They called me right away but there was nothing anyone could do. It was peaceful and quick. It was Tita who found her. Mr. Coleman was out on the range. Your mother was at a meeting. The doctor has been and gone.” Billie nodded miserably. “I don’t know if this will give you any consolation, but when I took Maggie in after her noon feeding Mrs. Coleman asked if I would lay the baby in her arms. I was right there. She stared at Maggie for a long time and kept
saying over and over that she reminded her of Amelia. Before I took her away, she was calling Maggie Amelia and saying she was sorry. I think she knew she was dying. When her daughter arrives, perhaps you’ll want to tell her.”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll do that. Thank you for telling me. I know it will mean a lot to Amelia.”
Billie leaned over the crib, reached down for a colorful red rattle, and shook it gently. Maggie gurgled and kicked her feet. Billie reached out her arms. “Come to Mama.” The nurse watched as Billie picked up her daughter and held her fiercely against her breast. “I’m going to try not to be like Jessica.... I don’t want to die alone,” Billie whispered against the baby’s warm, soft head. When the baby started to whimper, Billie kissed her and laid her back in the crib.
“Where are the others, Nurse?”
“Your mother and Mr. Coleman are in the study. Tita and someone from her family are cleaning . . . what I mean is, they’re getting . . .”
“I know.”
Seth was standing next to the fireplace, in his hand a squat glass filled to the brim with bourbon. Her mother was sitting in Seth’s chair. It didn’t look right to Billie. She felt they should be doing something.
“Have you tried to reach Amelia?” was Billie’s first question. When no one answered she tried again. “What about Moss?”
Seth turned to face Billie. There was a blank look on his face. “Not yet. I decided to wait until the Enterprise puts into port somewhere. I don’t want him flying missions with . . . Later, he’ll be told later. When the time is right.”
“Amelia?”
“I wrote a letter to the Red Cross some time ago. I haven’t heard.”
Billie stiffened from head to toe. “That isn’t good enough, Seth. You have to do something now.”
“There’s nothing to do. She could never get here in time for the funeral even if she left for home yesterday.”
Texas Rich Page 28
