Blue Lake

by Elizabeth Buhmann

  Look to Your Own Self

  By one o’clock, she was speeding home. During a brief, one-sided bridge-burning session with Ron, she had told him that she had to leave because her father was dying and she didn’t know when she could return. That she hadn’t and couldn’t finish the alternative presentation based on the Haven Acres artwork and didn’t even know if she could make the twelve o’clock meeting with the clients the next day. On the three-hour drive from Richmond to Piedmont, she thought back on everything she’d said to Ron, cycling through dismay, regret, mortification, and yet at the same time, relief. Basically, she had walked off the job.

  When she reached the hospital, her resolve almost entirely deserted her. She parked, turned off her car, and sat there wondering if she had come home or run away again. Feeling increasingly leaden, she struggled to pull open the heavy door. The elevator, slow as ever, reached the third floor too soon. The feeling that she was keeping an appointment with an executioner reached a screaming peak when she met Edith halfway down the hall to her father’s room. They stopped several feet apart.

  Edith sighed. “Regina.” Her voice and expression were neutral, unreadable. “You should probably know that Bebe told him everything you’ve done.”

  “What have I done? What did she say?”

  “That you’ve been reminding Alice about Eugenie, saying she was murdered, upsetting everybody. That you went to the sheriff and Alice was questioned. A deputy came to the house to take her ‘statement’ about what she saw.” She sighed again. “That Alice fainted, had to practically be carried to her bed.” She spread her hands as if smoothing a piece of cloth. “I’m just telling you what she said. What could anyone say? It’s all true. Frank tried to intervene. He said you hadn’t meant to drag Alice into it, that she was half out of her mind anyway.” Edith smiled faintly, just a lift at the corners of her mouth, not unsympathetic. “Bebe was at Bebe’s best at what Bebe does.”

  The rest of the family emerged from her father’s room, forming a phalanx behind Edith. Alice gave Regina a hunted look. Pace and Fran surrounded her and, each taking an arm, guided her toward the elevators, Fran throwing Regina an apologetic glance as they passed her.

  Bebe took up a position at Edith’s elbow, a gleam of triumph in her eye. “You’re too late.”

  Edith cut her eyes at Bebe, then turned back to Regina. “She also told him you accused Robert of murdering Eugenie.”

  Frank appeared behind Bebe. “I told him you only said he was there.” He came around his other sisters to stand by Regina.

  Bebe would not be denied. “And you blamed Robert for what happened eight years ago. Accused him of attacking you, when it was you who tried to break up Mary’s marriage.”

  Frank and Edith exchanged a look.

  Edith lifted her shoulders and dropped them. “It’s what she said.”

  Regina collected herself, addressing Edith. “She said all this to him just now? When he’s so much worse?” It seemed incredible.

  Frank answered. “No, this all happened this morning.”

  “What did he say? Anything?”

  “He didn’t say much of anything,” Bebe interjected. “I’ll tell you what he did. He called his lawyer in as soon as we left and changed his will. He was that upset.” She moved around Edith to confront Regina more directly, eyes narrowed. “I also told him that you said you want to block the sale of the house. That you were planning to make trouble for Mary and the rest of us about the house you never even come to. I told him what you said about Robert too. And he was so upset that he changed his will and collapsed afterward. He’s dying now. Look what you’ve done.”

  Edith and Frank both demurred.

  Bebe looked from Edith to Frank and back again. “She shouldn’t be allowed to see him.”

  Regina found her voice. “I’m not the one who upset him, telling him all that.”

  “It’s what you did that upset him. He had a right to know what you’re doing to Mama.”

  “You two,” Edith said, down-pushing with her hands, “don’t fight here.”

  “She has a right to see him,” Frank said to Bebe. Then he added to Regina, “But the doctor’s coming now. Later would be better.”

  If there is a later, Regina thought but did not say.

  “Do you want me to come with you later?”

  She shook her head, wondering if he thought he should be there as a witness.

  Bebe voiced that thought. “Someone should be there to make sure she doesn’t upset him.”

  “I won’t say anything but that I’m sorry and goodbye.”

  Bebe was relentless. “You can’t make up for what you’ve done now. It’s too late.”

  “Give it a rest, Bebe,” Frank said, turning at the sound of footsteps and voices.

  A doctor and nurse approached from the other end of the hall, the doctor raising a hand to Frank and nodding at the three sisters as he entered William Hannon’s room. More voices came from inside, and Mary emerged.

  Followed by Robert Medina.

  Regina felt his presence as an electric jolt. She stiffened, and only dimly aware of Frank saying her name, she turned and fled past the elevators to the stairs. Down and out. She ran to her car, jumped in, and spun her tires, fishtailing out of the parking lot and driving away blindly, turning at random until she was sure she was out of sight and reach of anyone behind her. She found herself on a country road and braked to a lurching halt.

  “Oh my God!” She shut off her car and leaned her head on the steering wheel, then threw her head back, gasping for breath. “Oh my God.”

  Minutes ticked by. Her heart slowed, breathing returned to normal, and her thoughts slowed and crystalized. The night air chilled her face.

  “What have I done? What am I doing?”

  She waited a while longer, then, heartsick, she headed for Mrs. Marsden’s. And the Shackley road.

  She flinched as she approached the Rawley house. “Oh no.”

  A sheriff’s car. Laura’s. Laura spotted her and waved her to a stop. Reluctantly, with dread, Regina pulled over. Laura waited a moment, then when Regina made no move to get out or approach, Laura walked over to her and rested her hands on the passenger-side door.

  “He says he found the hairpin not even close to the lake.” She pointed at the house. “The old man. I talked to Ellen Marsden earlier today.”

  Regina nodded. “Okay.”

  Looking past Laura, she saw a shadowy figure in the doorway and recognized the shape, even all these years later. He’d seemed old when she met him walking home from high school. He must be ancient now.

  Laura glanced behind her and turned back to Regina, who couldn’t pull her eyes away from the old man. “We called the Richmond PD, they called Virginia Beach, and their PD pulled Tiberius in for questioning. The Rawleys aren’t too happy right now, but I can’t help that.” She straightened and tapped the hood of the car. “I don’t think there’s anything more I can do at the moment.”

  Regina said with sudden urgency, “Wait. Laura, he’s here. My sister’s husband.”

  Laura turned back. “I’m not sure there’s anything I can do about that either. Like I said before, you can make a statement, file a complaint, but. . .” She turned up her palm.

  “I found out there was another girl.” She searched her memory for the name. “Mary—Marybeth Summers. She went to Haven Acres. Which means he got her pregnant. She was fifteen.” When Laura didn’t immediately reply, she added, “Is that a misdemeanor? What’s the, the—”

  “Statute of limitations,” Laura supplied. Hands on hips, she looked down the road. Nodded. “You take care, Regina. Just stay away from him is all I can suggest right now.”

  Ellen Marsden’s greeting was initially reserved, but coolness gave way to concern when Regina falteringly asked if she could stay another night or two.

  “Are you all right, Ree?”

  Regina looked at the car keys in her hand and didn’t answer.

  “Laura La
mbert came by this morning, the sheriff’s deputy.”

  Regina said almost inaudibly, “I know. I saw her at the Rawleys’ house.”

  “The police investigated Tiberius twenty years ago, and they found no proof that he did anything to that little girl.”

  Regina couldn’t find energy or words to reply.

  “They found no proof, but he had to leave town and start all over. He went to Colorado for a good many years, then came back to Virginia Beach, where he was doing just fine.”

  Again, Regina couldn’t answer.

  “You’re young, and being who you are, you might not understand how quick the police are to question and blame a black man.”

  At this, Regina looked up, the words landing like a punch to the stomach.

  “Children lose hairpins.”

  After a long moment, Regina said, “I should never have called Laura about that hairpin.”

  She took Mrs. Marsden’s silence as agreement.

  “I can’t seem to stop doing the wrong thing.”

  “You need to let the past go. The loss of a child is a terrible thing, a hard thing to get over. But after a point, you just have to accept it and get on with your life.”

  “My sister’s death ruined my life. I might as well have drowned too.”

  “Oh now, that’s just foolishness. Come here.” She folded Regina into her arms as Regina gave in to tears. “Foolishness. Your life isn’t ruined, you silly girl. You’re young and beautiful.” When Regina pulled away, Mrs. Marsden said, “The only person ruining your life is you.”

  Regina managed a teary smile. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “Your father is dying. Whether you know it or not, it’s tearing you apart.”

  In her room, she sat on the bed and considered what Mrs. Marsden had said. Her father was dying. Was that what was coming down on her? The weeping, the guilt, the need to understand what had become of her family? Except for the one short visit when William had the first stroke, she had not been home since fleeing to Savannah. Sophie had been her intermediary. He’d paid for her college, a junior year abroad, art classes, clothes, a car. He’d paid up without complaint, according to Sophie, who never judged either him or her.

  Eight years she had been estranged from him. He’d wronged her, and she’d retaliated.

  Bebe had said it was too late, but maybe it wasn’t. With fresh urgency, she jumped up and grabbed her keys. Called to Mrs. Marsden as she ran out the door that she was going back to the hospital.

  Twenty minutes later, she found him blessedly unaccompanied by family and alive, though unresponsive. After showing her how to call for help, a nurse left her alone. She sat next to the bed and held his hand, calling him Papa. He was all but gone, yet she felt as though he was aware of her. She held her breath, wondering what to say.

  Then she spoke slowly, softly, confidingly. “Papa, please forgive me. I’ve missed you. I just couldn’t understand why you would give me away, pretend I wasn’t yours.”

  She laid her forehead on the cool sheet at the edge of the bed and thought of what Mary always said. You were too much for her.

  “I know you had your reasons. I know it was a hard choice. You were always so good to me. I know you never meant to hurt me. You thought I could understand. I couldn’t, and I couldn’t tell you that.” She straightened and thought some more. About what Bebe had told him. “I know what Bebe said about me. I guess it’s all true, but it’s not like she makes it sound. She said you were angry with me. Please don’t be. Forgive me. It doesn’t matter about the house or money. I don’t care about that. I just want you to know that I love you and that I’m so sorry I’ve stayed away.”

  She fell silent and couldn’t think what more she needed to say. Sat quietly until she worried about the family returning. Nervously watched the parking lot. When Edith’s car pulled in, she kissed her father’s cheek and hand, whispered again that she loved him, lingered one moment more, then slipped away unseen, sure she would never see him again.

  She waited until the others were all inside, then she drove slowly to Mrs. Marsden’s. It was too late to go back to Richmond, dark as pitch on the deserted Shackley Road. She said to herself over and over, My father is dying. My father is gone forever. She was slowly absorbing the impact, the hugeness of the event, the way it had shaped her every thought and action since Mary’s first call. She puzzled over how she had come to think of Gigi’s death as the central mystery of her life, a riddle that could explain everything that had ever happened to her.

  Cresting a hill, she saw lights blazing and realized with a gasp that she had reached the Rawley house. She slowed as a car turned into a driveway ahead of her, and gasped again as she recognized the misshapen figure of the old man coming out to meet the car. In a moment of panic, she thought to shift into reverse, mistimed the clutch, and stalled her car. A middle-aged, light-skinned black man got out of the other car, and the old man lurched toward her. Her heart skipped a beat as it dawned on her that he had recognized her car. He staggered onto the road toward her.

  A soft cry of fear escaped her. She reached for the keys, but her hand shook so badly that she overrode the starter and the car stalled again. He slapped the hood. Terror galvanized her and she managed to turn the key again, this time releasing it in time. The car roared to life, so she threw it into reverse and backed up sharply, ten or fifteen feet.

  Sam Rawley stood in the middle of the road. “You fucking Hannons can’t get enough of making trouble for my family, can you?”

  The other man came up behind him, to the side. Regina looked over her shoulder, cold fear running down her spine. In her small car with the top down, she was hopelessly vulnerable. A second car pulled up behind her, on the side of the road but blocking her right rear fender. She shifted into first gear, heart pounding. Sam Rawley pounded on the hood of her car, and Regina jumped. He worked his way around toward her, leaning heavily on the car. Regina let out the clutch and inched forward. The other man stood in the middle of the road. She would have to drive through him to get away.

  Rawley thumped the hood again. “You in some kind of hurry? You got to go tell some more lies about us?”

  Close up, she could see his fury, smell his sweat.

  “Are you?” Spit hit her face as he raged at her. “You still trying to pin your own blame on me and my son?”

  Startled, she looked at the other man. Tiberius. This was Tiberius Rawley. A tall, powerful man. She jumped again at movement to the side. Two men from the car behind her were watching, their eyes hard with contempt.

  Rawley yelled at them, “Sent the sheriff’s deputy to ask about a hairpin. Fuckin’ hairpin. Twenty years ago, I find a hairpin and give it to Arletta. She reports it to the fuckin’ sheriff.” The old man was shaking with rage. He turned back to Regina, shouting himself hoarse. “You know what you done now?”

  He waited for her to answer. Then with a grunt, he yanked open the driver’s side door. She froze in her seat.

  “Do you know?” He was doubled over with the effort of yelling at her. He screamed, “Do you know? I asked you a question.” He grabbed her wrist and twisted.

  Regina whimpered and shook her head.

  “The cops in Virginia Beach picked him up at his job to ask him questions.” He shouted, emphasizing each separate word. “Now you tell me, Miss High and Mighty Hannon. Do you think he still has that job in Virginia Beach? Do you?” He closed in and bellowed right in her face. “You want to know what’s evil around here, you look to your own self.” He yanked again, pulling her halfway out of her seat.

  “Pop.” Tiberius Rawley’s strong hands closed on his father’s arm and pried his fingers from Regina’s wrist. “Let her go, Pop.”

  The old man seemed suddenly exhausted by his tirade. He slumped and seemed to shrink, then gathered himself for one last verbal assault. “Stop persecuting my family.”

  24

  Too Much For Her

  Endless night. She’d managed
to slip into Mrs. Marsden’s unseen and escape to her room. Took a hot shower and scrubbed her face and body raw. Huddled under the covers in the dark, wide-eyed. Had Tiberius Rawley really lost another job because of her?

  “Oh please, please don’t let that be true,” she whispered.

  And Al. What would he think of her now? She shuddered. Not much.

  She finally dropped off in the early hours of the morning with Sam Rawley’s words echoing in her ears. You want to know what’s evil around here, you look to your own self.

  She woke early from a nightmare-ridden sleep to a crushing sense of guilt. Exhausted, half-asleep, she was defenseless against her own memories. Mary saying, I wanted a baby, I wanted my husband. Her own cold anger at discovering that she was not Mary’s child but William’s and Alice’s. William’s feeble, I thought you knew. She rolled over, buried her face in the pillow, and groaned. Words swirled around her, too many words: words from the past, words from old letters, words of spite and condemnation, words shouted in rage.

  At seven, she heard movement downstairs and could no longer stand her own company. She dressed in yesterday’s clothes and went down to the dining room, unsure of her welcome. Mrs. Marsden, sitting at a table for two in front of a window that faced the back garden, beckoned to her and greeted her kindly as always, pointing at the chair across from her and calling to Violet to bring coffee, orange juice, and waffles.

  “Wait until you try these waffles, Ree. They’re the best thing I ever tasted. How are you this morning?”

  Regina mustered a smile. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. You look like you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

  She knew she didn’t look right. She’d glimpsed her reddened cheeks and watery eyes in the bathroom mirror.

  “Did you?” Mrs. Marsden was waiting for an answer.

  “I’m sorry. Did I what?”

  “Get any sleep last night?”

  “Oh. Not much.” She felt that she should explain but didn’t have the energy. Or the will.