by Gayle Hayes
With his hands in his pockets, head bent, and eyes downcast, Ethan Taggard walked as far as the church. His mind recreated the scene with Harold.
Ethan wished he would have asked Mr. Lowe to tell him the whereabouts of his friend. Ethan should have taken the box directly to the friend who would give him the reward. Instead, he had no idea if Mr. Lowe would have a reward for him the next day. What if Mr. Lowe discovered Ethan stole the box? Ethan was ashamed he had been so nervous. If Mr. Lowe contacted him at home, his mother would know about the box. His mother would question why he had not told her he found something so valuable. Ethan was never able to lie to his mother. It was almost as if she had built-in radar that could detect an offense from a mile away. Ethan decided he would need to return to Mr. Lowe's office to ask for the box and the whereabouts of his friend.
When Ethan arrived at Harold's door, he saw Harold's head on the desk. Harold did not look comfortable. Ethan's instincts told him something was wrong.
He opened the door and said, "Mr. Lowe?"
Ethan walked toward Harold, saying his name again. Then he shook Harold's shoulder. He thought he might be dead. What if someone came in and blamed him? Ethan wanted to grab the box and run. He picked up the box, his mind racing. He got as far as the door before his conscience turned him around. He set the box on Harold's desk, and dialed 9-1-1.
"This is Ethan Taggard. I'm at Mr. Lowe's, and I think he's dead."
"What's your address?"
"I don't know. It's Mr. Lowe. He's a lawyer in Buffalo Jump. It's at the end of Main Street. I'll look outside for the number," Ethan said.
"Stay on the line, Ethan. I know where you are. Is Mr. Lowe conscious?"
"What's that?" Ethan asked.
"Does he know you're there? Is he breathing?"
"I shook him real hard, but he didn't wake up," Ethan said. He was trying not to cry.
Ethan heard sirens and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"The ambulance should be there any time. Is the door unlocked?"
"Uh, huh. I see them now," Ethan said. He was relieved.
"Good. Are they coming inside?"
"They're here now," Ethan said.
"You can hang up now. You're a hero, Ethan. Thank you for calling us."
Ethan hung up the phone. He felt someone's hands on his shoulders and moved away from the desk as the emergency crew got Harold on a gurney and tried to revive him. Ethan wanted to sneak out the door, but the fire truck had arrived, and there were more people coming and going in and out of the office. He knew Harold might be dead. He had never seen a dead person before. He felt as if he might vomit and went into the bathroom. Then he saw the window, released the clasp at the top, and climbed out. He vomited in the bushes behind the office and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Then he ran away from Harold's office and Main Street and took the long way home.
Emma had settled into the rattan chair with the fan back and was reading in the sitting room of the Rankin Suite. She heard sirens getting closer and feared there was a fire at the inn. She grabbed her handbag and laptop and left the sitting room through the door to the adjacent garden. Then she crossed the short footbridge over Buffalo Creek. Before long, she was on Main Street and realized the emergency was at Harold's office. The ambulance was leaving. She saw Carole walking into Harold's office and followed her.
Carole was crying and reached for a tissue from the box on Harold's desk. When she saw Emma, she put her arms around her and cried.
"I think he's gone," Carole said.
"Harold?" Emma asked.
"He was still unconscious. No one's sure how long he's been out. Phyllis is with him."
"Do you have a car? I can drive if you don't feel like it," Emma said.
Carole pulled herself together. They walked to Carole's garage and headed for the hospital. Carole parked near the emergency entrance. Then she and Emma went inside and found the waiting area. Phyllis was pacing back and forth.
"It's bad. I think we've lost him this time," Phyllis said.
Before Emma could ask what happened, a somber emergency room doctor entered the room. He knew Phyllis and Carole were Harold's friends. He walked over to Emma and held her hand between his.
"You must be Harold's daughter. I'm sorry. We did everything we could for him. It was a heart attack."
The three women were shown to the room where Harold lay. Phyllis and Carole cried, one burying her head in his shoulder while the other raised his hand to her face. Emma tried to stay to the side to give them room to grieve. She tried to think back on the last time she saw Harold alive. He seemed so far away now. It was only a short time since they enjoyed the picnic and ride back to Buffalo Jump. What changed? How did he go from being so full of life to being dead so quickly?
A nurse also assumed Emma was Harold's daughter and handed her a plastic sack with the hospital logo on it. Harold's suit coat and shoes were inside. Carole put her arm around Emma's waist and they walked from the room. Emma heard Phyllis tell the nurse Harold had no family and she was his friend. She knew Harold had wanted to be cremated. The nurse offered to call the funeral home.
Carole drove Phyllis and Emma back to the inn. Phyllis opened one of her better bottles of wine and poured three glasses. Emma set the bag with Harold's clothes in her room and joined Phyllis and Carole on the patio behind the inn. It was early evening. Emma rested her head on the back of a chaise lounge, closed her eyes, and listened to Phyllis and Carole as they tried to come to terms with losing Harold.
Emma had known him for only a week, but they were friends. If it was not for her grandmother's death, Emma would not have met Harold. Now, he was gone, too. Was it a coincidence? Possibly, Harold's death so soon after her grandmother's simply left Emma with the feeling there was meaning where there was none. However, she could not shake the conviction the two were somehow connected.
When Emma and Harold had talked on the porch swing at his house the night before, he told her he believed we are only vagabonds upon the earth in search of treasure that never leaves us satisfied. Then we die and discover the meaning behind our existence. When our souls escape our earthly bodies, we are truly free. She asked Harold why it was necessary to be vagabonds at all. He told her he thought no one could appreciate heaven until they endured the earth. Harold liked to think our experience on earth allowed us to be of more use to those who remained. He could not imagine heaven was a place where souls lingered without purpose. Instead, he thought the departed souls were like the outfitters who guided trips into the Bob Marshall Wilderness. Having successfully navigated the trials of this life, they became the guardian angels for the souls still finding their way on earth.
Emma had been so deep in thought that she did not realize Carole was talking to her.
"Are you okay, honey?" Carole asked.
"Um-huh. I was just remembering a conversation with him last night," Emma said.
"Phyllis and I were wondering if you could stay for a few days and make sure everything's all right at Babe's office," Carole said.
"I have the entire week off. I already promised Harold I'd help him with some research," Emma said.
"It would be great if you could go to his office tomorrow. He gave me the combination to his safe. He was always afraid he'd forget someday. I think his will is in there," Phyllis said.
"I hope he left us some idea of the funeral he wants," Carole said.
"He wanted a Mass. He'll be buried next to his mother," Phyllis said.
"I think I saw her grave in the cemetery behind the church last week. I wondered if any other Lowes are buried there," Emma said.
"Babe's dad left his mom and the kids for a younger woman. He's buried somewhere in California. Babe's brother was MIA in Korea. His mom was an angel. She sure as hell didn't deserve the rat she got for a husband," Phyllis said.
"We should have a nice reception for Babe after the funeral," Carole said.
"We'll do it here. I'll take care of everything. Emma, is th
ere anything you'd like to add? Babe thought a lot of you. I'm sure he'd want you to be involved," Phyllis said.
"I'll think about it. What happens next?" Emma asked.
"We need to find Babe's will. I don't think he wanted the usual wake. We'll need to contact Father O'Sullivan to schedule the funeral. I'll go to Sun River Granite to finalize the stone," Phyllis said.
Carole spoke through her tears. "I can't believe he's gone. It'll never be the same without our Babe."
Emma left Carole and Phyllis on the patio, saying she needed to get an early start Monday and was tired. She walked back to her room in a fog. Losing Harold had been so sudden and final. She became very fond of him over the last week. There was another emotion she could not identify. She wanted to cry, but she felt detached. If Harold had not been in love with her grandmother, she would not have known him at all. Until she received his letter, she had lived her own life in Denver and thought she was reasonably happy. Now, it seemed Denver was a dream. Buffalo Jump was her new reality. Even so, she did not feel entitled to grieve along with Phyllis and Carole. She still felt like an outsider.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The hospital bag with Harold's suit coat in it was the first thing Emma saw when she entered her room. It gave her a strange sensation, as if Harold had been waiting patiently for her to return. She thought about Harold's home. Someone would need to dispose of all of his possessions. Possibly, Carole and Phyllis would do that after Emma returned to Denver.
Emma removed her makeup, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Before she undressed, she looked inside the sack the nurse gave her at the hospital. She would check the pockets to remove anything important. Harold's keys and wallet were in the bottom of the sack. She set them aside. Then she caught the scent of Harold's aftershave as she held his suit coat in her left hand and searched the pockets with her right hand. She was about to fold the suit coat when she remembered the inside pocket where she'd seen Harold tuck her essays in the past week. Emma was surprised to find an envelope.
Emma removed the note from the envelope and hesitated, wondering if it was something she should be reading. Then it occurred to her she could not take charge of Harold's office unless she read whatever she found there. She unfolded the note and noticed her grandmother's signature before she read a word. Was this something Harold packed around for a long time, or was it something new? Then Emma noticed the small handwriting on the outside of the envelope: to be opened LAST after you discuss Emma's essays with her.
The note her grandmother had signed was very brief. Emma could not have been more shocked. She read the note again, and then she tried to imagine how Harold might react to it.
Babe,
By now, you have gotten to know Emma while discussing essays with her. As you probably noticed in my will, the memorandum stipulating the conditions under which Emma would receive the remainder of my assets is not binding. I want to give Emma her inheritance regardless of anything she learned from Carole and Phyllis. The real purpose of the exercise was to be sure you would spend time with Emma.
You see, Babe, Emma was conceived that romantic June so long ago. I considered an abortion at the time. Then John and Lynn offered to raise Emma if I would go through with the pregnancy. Once they had Emma, they refused to let me see her, saying I was unfit. I meant to get even with them, but they died before I could leave them out of my will. So that left one enemy on which to take my revenge…you, my dear.
Now that you know Emma, you must realize what you missed by dumping me. I would have told you about her if you had not broken my heart first. I hope you are pained through and through by the knowledge that your life has been wasted. You are a dried up old bachelor now with no one to grieve for you once you're gone. I know you will choose not to share this with Emma. Doing so would only make her hate you as I do. You end up with nothing, while I will be remembered for my generosity to her.
Frances
Tears welled in Emma's eyes, streamed over her cheeks, and fell on Harold's suit coat. She pressed his coat to her face and sobbed. She was not merely an acquaintance anymore. She had felt a kind of emptiness since childhood. There never was the bond with John that her friends seemed to enjoy with their dads. There was a distance between them that made perfect sense now. John was her half-brother. She was grateful to him for taking responsibility for her, but now she had a real father to love even if he was gone.
Once Emma's tears were spent, she set the sack with Harold's shoes in it on the floor and tucked the note from Frances in her handbag along with his wallet and keys. She pulled her nightgown over her head, set her alarm, and slipped under the covers, the suit coat by her on the bed. With her right arm draped over it, Emma drifted off to sleep.
When Emma walked into the lobby for the continental breakfast Monday morning, she saw Phyllis and Carole sitting together talking over their waffles. Carole saw her first and noticed her puffy eyes and pale complexion. She waved at Emma so she would join them once her waffle was ready.
"How're you doing, hon?" Carole said.
"I'm fine. I slept well, so that helped. How's your morning going?" Emma asked.
"I think all the details are handled. I'll need Babe's clothes so I can take them to the funeral home," Phyllis said.
"I'd rather keep his suit coat," Emma said. Phyllis looked surprised. Carole stopped chewing and waited for one of them to say something.
"I wasn't going to hit you with this first thing. I found a note in the pocket of his coat last night. It's from my grand…it's from Frances," Emma said. She took the note out of her purse and set it on the table in front of Carole and Phyllis. "It explains a lot. I think you should read it."
Phyllis picked up the envelope, removed the note, and held it so both she and Carole could read at the same time. When they were halfway through the note, both women gasped. When they finished reading, Carole looked at Emma in disbelief while Phyllis started re-reading the note.
"That twisted bitch," Phyllis muttered. Then she remembered Emma was at the table, and she was speaking ill of her mother. "I'm sorry, Emma. How could she do this to you? How could anyone hate Babe that much? It's inexplicable," Phyllis said.
Carole got up and went around the table to Emma, giving her a hug. "You poor little dear. I can't imagine how devastated you must be," Carole said.
"I feel very fortunate that both of you are my friends now. I'm only sorry Harold…I mean my father didn't talk to me about the note. I keep wondering when he knew," Emma said.
"You can bet your bottom dollar he didn't know about this. Babe would've told you if he'd known. He wouldn't show you the note to spare you knowing what a witch Frances was. I'm sorry, Emma, but it's true. Either he put this in his pocket and forgot it or he read it right before he died. That'd be my guess. I bet he read the note, and it gave him a heart attack," Phyllis said.
"Oh, Phyllis, that's awful. Don't even say such a thing. I'd hate to think Babe died from the poison in that note. He was too good," Carole said.
"I think you can understand now why I don't want to part with his coat. He was wearing it when he died. If I hadn't found the note in his pocket, I wouldn't know who I am. It's my treasure," Emma said. She was trying not to cry.
"This changes everything, dear. Phyllis, we need to ask Emma's approval about the arrangements we've been making," Carole said.
"I'm sure you know better than I do what my father would've liked. I do want to know what you're planning, though," Emma said.
After Phyllis went over the details of Harold's funeral with Emma, they discussed a change here and there and finalized the arrangements. Phyllis gave Emma the combination to his safe. Then Emma walked to Harold's office, opened the door with his key, and sat behind the desk. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and began to feel more calm. She settled into the chair. Then she became interested in Harold's view of Main Street.
There were a few cars angle parked on both sides of Main Street. Henry, the carriage driver, was sho
wing a couple around Buffalo Jump. Emma wondered how they heard about the small town. The street was decorated with the same baskets of flowers as those at the inn. Victorian style street lamps on posts were spaced evenly at the edge of the sidewalks. The shop fronts had been given a facelift and most were protected by canopies in royal blue or green. Two cafés provided tables with green umbrellas for outdoor dining. People strolled unrushed, and there were no horns or annoying mufflers. Emma was reminded of old movies about a more innocent time. She relaxed.
Then she remembered the note from Frances. She was no longer her grandmother. Emma realized she still did not know her grandmothers. Now she wondered where Frances had been raised and who her parents were. She felt comfortable calling Harold her father, but she could not bring herself to call Frances her mother. For the first time, Emma was sorry she resembled Frances at all.
Emma wondered about the note Frances wrote to Harold. Did he know Emma was his daughter the entire time they were together? Phyllis had almost convinced her Harold would not have neglected to talk about it. Then Emma wondered if her father forgot to read the note. She almost wished it were true. While he would have died not knowing she was his daughter, at least he would not have read Frances' hateful sentiments. What if he read the note and it brought on the heart attack as Phyllis speculated? In that case, he would have known about Emma, but Frances would have broken his heart. As much as it hurt her to think her father never knew she was his, she hoped he had not read Frances' note. There was no way she could know the truth, so Emma tried to put the note out of her mind and concentrate on the work at hand.
Emma noticed the box on her father's desk and stood up to look inside. As she opened the flaps on the box, Deputy Knudsen knocked on the office door and walked inside.
