The Stone Flower Garden

by Deborah Smith

  Solo spoke in a gruff whisper. “There could be anything out there. What do you see?”

  Whether he was speaking to himself or asking me what I saw in the shadows, it was all the same. I inhaled sharply. “The memory of a boy I loved, named Eli.”

  Silence. The air became electric. His arms tightened around me. “Darl.” There was no censure in his tone.

  I shivered. “You remind me of him. Even the way you say my name. I look at you and see the man he might have become. That’s why you’re special to me. I’m sorry. I should have told you in Florida.”

  “Shhh. Tell me. I want to know about him.”

  “He was only thirteen the last time I saw him. And I was only ten. I know it sounds impossible.” I rushed on, my voice hoarse. “But I can still see him out there in those woods—I can imagine him. He and his family lived not far away. I used to walk over . . . he’d wait. We had a place. It was all innocent.” I halted. “This isn’t fair to you. You don’t deserve to be a stand-in for a memory like that.”

  “If I’m the kind of man you hoped he’d be, then I’ve done all right.” Solo turned me to face him. Even in the dark I sensed him searching my face. New pain soared through my skull. I winced and jerked back. He released me as if I’d slapped him, then sank his hand into my hair, stroking quickly. We stared at each other. I felt beads of sweat on my forehead, and he breathed roughly. “Jesus,” he said.

  “You didn’t hurt me. It’s my headache again.” He wound his arms around me fiercely. “Cry,” he ordered, his own voice hoarse. “Cry for that boy. It’s a blessing to be loved by you. So cry for yourself, because your Eli loved you, and he was right to love you. Cry.”

  He was no more sure of my mysteries than I could be of his, but he broke me. I did something I’d never done before, not with anyone. I sobbed helplessly.

  And he held me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Come on, Eli. Be quiet. Be quiet on your big feet,” Darl whispered, grinning at him as she led him up the backstairs to her bedroom. It was a summer day, Swan was at a meeting in Asheville, and Mama had brought him and Bell with her to work at the mansion. He and Darl had spent the morning unpacking and arranging boxes of canned goods in the pantry, while Bell watched, reciting solemnly, “String beans. Tomatoes. Potatoes. Squash,” because she had finally learned to read. Now Mama had fallen asleep over her midday bologna sandwich in one of the library’s fat leather easy chairs, and Bell lay napping on the floor by her feet.

  “I’ll get my behind torn up if Mama catches me upstairs,” Eli hissed, but followed Darl anyway. She grabbed his hand and pulled him down a side hallway, then shoved open a pink lacquered door. “Voilà,” she said, spreading a hand at a pink, fluffy wonderland of girly furniture, a canopied bed, piles of dolls, and books stacked everywhere. “My boudoir.”

  “Voila,” he repeated in awe, drawling the French word like a mule pulling a plow. He stared at the books. “Good godawmighty.”

  “Here. Sit down.” She pushed books and dolls aside on the high pink bed. He shook his head. He was only eleven then, but Pa already had told him the rules about boys, girls, and furniture to lay down on. “I’m not sittin’ on your bed.”

  “Well, suit yourself.” She gathered a pile of books into her arms. “Sit over there, then.” They huddled side by side in a window seat stuffed with pink brocade pillows. “You want Huckleberry Finn?” She held out a book.

  “Sure!”

  “Okay.” She put that in his lap then dug into the novels and held up another one. “I’m reading the Casey Girl mysteries right now. I’m up to book four. The Mummy On Oak Street.”

  “Hmmm.” He was already deeply intrigued with the first page of the Twain classic. He pushed his glasses up his nose, settled back on the girly cushions and drew up his legs, skinny and sunburned beneath cut-off jeans. Darl propped herself in the window seat’s opposite corner, opening her Casey Girl mystery to a page marked with a string of yarn. She bent her head and began reading as avidly as he, stretching out her long legs in pink shorts with lace edging. Her bare feet collided with his, but both he and she pretended not to notice. They read in perfectly silent friendship, warmed by the sun on that good day, their toes kissing without any embarrassment at all.

  The window seat is gone, Eli thought when he woke up in that room as a grown man. The whole damn window’s gone. In the heat and the anguish of the night before, he’d noticed very little about the room. Swan must have remodeled it at some point after Darl left home. Not a sign of that pink girl existed anywhere now. The furniture was dark and elaborately carved, the wall paper a burnished silver pattern, the lamps sleek and contemporary. Swan had done her best to mimic Darl’s adult personality.

  And had gotten it all wrong.

  He rose on one elbow and watched Darl sleep beside him. The tenderness in him fought for release. She looked like hell—her hair tangled and matted, her eyes shadowed—but that only made him love her more. Love her. I love you with all my heart, he mouthed. He slid carefully from beneath pale sheets, then smoothed them over her bare shoulders, tucking her in. Grabbing a thick blue towel from the floor, he wrapped it around his waist then walked downstairs.

  He padded around a corner into the main foyer. Twin gasps greeted him. Two black-haired women stood there, one in a tailored dress, the other, younger, in a maid’s uniform. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said. The maid burst out laughing. The older woman did not. “I was not informed there was a guest.” She spoke in heavily accented English.

  “You Gloria, ma’am?”

  “Yes, Miss Swan’s housekeeper.” She turned and sternly ordered the maid in Spanish. The young woman, giggling, fled toward the kitchen.

  This was no time for explanations, Eli thought. He apologized in good Spanish. Continuing in that language, he told Gloria that Miss Swan’s granddaughter had been sick the night before, and would sleep late. “When she gets up, tell her I’ll be back soon. I’m just going to look around town.”

  Whether his fluent command of her language impressed her or not, Gloria looked at him grimly but nodded. He flexed his naked shoulders, kept his head up and his back straight, then walked calmly out the elaborate front door of Marble Hall, wearing nothing but a towel. I’m back, Swan. You don’t own me and my family this time. I slept in your house. I slept with your granddaughter. I’ve staked my place in your territory. He hated thinking of Darl as a prize even as he indulged the idea. Once in the bright autumn sunshine he exhaled and strode to the big Explorer. He opened the back luggage door, pawed underwear, jeans, and a gray thermal pullover to the surface, got dressed, then shaved as best he could with a dry razor, nicking himself twice. He wiped the tiny smears of blood and thought, You look rough and no-account. Next he reached for the carrying case that held his computer and other devices, including a cell phone.

  He called William in D.C. Eli had left him a message last night.

  “Finally. You call in,” William said tensely.

  “Any luck? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m leaving for the airport within the hour. I’ve located Karen Noland. She’s filming a guest part in a music video in Los Angeles. I’ll speak to her in person.”

  “Good.” The night before, Darl had left several messages at Karen’s New York apartment and at the production offices for Attractions. None had yet been returned. Eli found his wristwatch in the luggage. It was nearly ten a.m., eastern time. Los Angeles was three hours earlier. With any luck, William would find Karen and convince her to come home by nightfall. “I owe you, man. Is there anything else?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” For once, even William’s smooth Jamaican voice sounded tense. “I would have told you yesterday if I’d known. I just learned of it.”

  “What?”

  There was a pause. “Your sister. Your mother. They are there.”

  “What d
o you mean?”

  “Two days ago, they went to Burnt Stand. Your sister met with Swan Samples. Two days ago. They are still there.” He paused. “They believe they are taking some of the burden of surprise off you.”

  Eli’s mouth went dry. He listened vaguely as William gave him the name of the inn where Bell and Mama had set up camp. A few seconds later he was in the Explorer, and driving.

  Solo had deserted me to go exploring. That worried me. After three days of devoted companionship he’d suddenly decided to tour Burnt Stand alone? I showered and dressed in creased slacks, a pullover, and brown leather mules. I stood in my old bedroom braiding my hair into a rigid twist and wondering grimly what he hoped to learn about my hometown. About me—after my embarrassing breakdown the night before.

  I pulled the infinity stone from my slacks’ pocket and looked at it a long time. I laid it on a dresser as if it belonged there. I gazed around the room. Swan had redone it after I left home, and I knew she’d deliberately removed the window that had overlooked the woods leading to the Stone Flower Garden and the Stone Cottage.

  “The truth’s still out there, even without a window to see it,” I told her once.

  She had looked completely unmoved. “I have memories so painful I’ll never even whisper them to you. But I’ve put them away. Closed the window. You will, too.”

  Now I’d let Solo into this private sanctuary. Maybe I did want to forget what had happened to Eli and his family. Maybe I was turning into Swan without realizing it. People changed minute by minute, until they didn’t recognize who they once were, and by then the passions that drove them had faded away. One day I’d look up and realize I’d walled off the memories, the truth, and could live with what was left of myself.

  I shivered, picked up the infinity stone, and put it back in my pocket.

  The Rakelow Inn sat on a shady back street in Burnt Stand, surrounded by flower beds and lawn. The style was vaguely colonial, and of course it was built entirely of marble. It was one of the Esta Houses. Eli grimaced.

  Mama had cleaned for the Rakelow family before Matilda hired her at Marble Hall. Mama had wiped Rakelow toilets, scrubbed up the shit their poodle dog left on the rugs, smiled and said nothing when the Rakelow kids smeared mud on the doorsills she’d just washed. Eli kept thinking of that as he tried to understand why she and Bell had decided to come back to Burnt Stand without him—ahead of the schedule on which they’d agreed before he left for Florida. Now Mama sat firmly on a fancy divan in the inn’s biggest upstairs suite, her hardworking hands knotted in the skirt of a handsome tailored dress of fine blue material. Bell stood by an arched window looking like a silk butterfly with long colorful scarves floating over her blouse and jeans. She was teary but adamant about her decisions. Her baby, Jessie, slept in the center of an antique bed covered in down comforters.

  The Wade family had returned, and not as poor white trash.

  “I see y’all needed to make a point to the people around here,” Eli said wearily. “I’ve got no problem with that. Just wish you’d warned me.” Seated on a couch in the big suite, he levered his elbows on his knees and rubbed his jaw. Mama kept staring at the dingy bandage on his left forearm.

  “If we’d wanted to make a grand entrance,” Bell said hotly, “We’d have made sure everyone knew our names. But I registered here under Bell Canetree.”

  “All right then, so why did you have to visit Swan and tell her who you are?”

  “I wanted to be honest with her. I wanted her to know who really bought her land. I thought she might appreciate me coming forward and explaining what we intended to do with the property. That we only want to find out the truth. I thought she might be happy to know something that’d give her peace of mind and us, too. Eli, don’t you think she’s been dogged by terrible wonderings over how her sister died?”

  Eli laughed. “I don’t think Swan Samples has lost too much sleep over where or how Clara took her last breath.”

  Her face colored. “Just because you think Swan’s mean doesn’t make it so. Surely she wants to know who really killed Clara. She wants her sister’s body found. Surely.”

  “She thinks Pa did it. She thinks Clara’s bones are lost in the bottom of a lake.”

  Bell thrust out her hands. “Eli, I told her the truth and that ought to make it easier for us, and her, too.” She paused, scanning him with a frown. “And easier for you to chase Darl.”

  Eli straightened angrily. “All you had to do was get in touch with me down in Florida, and I’d have told you to leave it alone for now.”

  Mama spoke quietly. “Son, what exactly what were you doing with Darl down there?”

  “Taking care of her. She’s in a bad way.”

  “And you thought it wise not to tell her who you are?”

  “No, Mama, I didn’t think it was wise at all. I just got caught up in the situation.”

  “I’m ashamed of you.”

  Her words cut into him, hitting home because he knew she was right. He exhaled wearily and nodded. “None of it worked out the way I expected. Things happened too fast. She needed me to be a stranger, and I played along. But I believe she recognized me. She may not realize it yet, but she did.”

  “You lied to her,” Mama insisted.

  He stared grimly at the floor, and hunched his shoulders. “I did.”

  “Just like Bell lied to get Miss Swan’s land.”

  “Mama,” Bell said.

  Their mother stood. “We’ve none of us got a lot to be proud of right this second. When Bell decided to see Miss Swan in person and tell her the truth, I said, ‘Yes, we need to do that. This family is not going to sink deeper into shenanigans and ugly ways.’ That kind of thing does no honor to your pa’s memory. Son, you have to tell Darl who you are. Today.”

  Eli nodded, but leveled a somber gaze at his sister. “I want you to be prepared for what people’ll say when word gets out about us bein’ back here. They’re goin’ to say we caused Swan’s heart attack and Matilda’s stroke.”

  Bell gasped. “That’s not true! Swan and I had a nice conversation. She wasn’t upset at all. She told me she needed to think about what we planned to do with the land—digging around, and all that—and she’d talk to us some more when you got here. I said you were away on business. I didn’t say where. Eli—I swear to you—she was cool as a cucumber.”

  Eli smiled thinly. “You didn’t win her over. She just lay there like a snake, waitin’ for you to trust her and get close. You’re lucky she didn’t strike. I expect she’s plannin’ to eat us alive.”

  “Miss Swan was always fair to me,” Mama said firmly.

  Eli sighed. “She thinks Pa killed her sister. That’s a closed case to her. I guarantee she’s not happy about us stirrin’ up the ugliness again.”

  Mama looked at him wistfully. “But Darl will talk to her for us. You say Darl wants to believe your pa is innocent. You say Darl is a good person.”

  Eli looked away. His throat worked. “She’s the best.”

  “Then you tell her who you are, and if you’ve already proved yourself to be a good man in her eyes, she’ll trust you and she’ll forgive you—and she’ll honor what we came here for.”

  He stood and touched his mother’s shoulder. “There’s the test we both have to pass.”

  Mama nodded.

  Gloria, the new housekeeper, didn’t like me. I sat at the dining room table with a cup of coffee and some toast I’d made in the kitchen while she and the maid watched unhappily. I spread my grandmother’s files around me on the gleaming mahogany table. Gloria stood by the door, adjusting the lights on the room’s chandelier, and glared at me as if I’d killed Swan then assumed her throne. “I called the hospital,” she said in her heavily accented voice. “Miss Swan and Miss Matilda were just moved. They are now sharing a hospital room.” Her tone was
slightly dismissive, as if she assumed she were more concerned with their well-being than I.

  “Yes, I know. I’m leaving in a few minutes to see them, but I need to go over these papers, first.”

  “I’ve packed some things for your grandmother and Miss Matilda. Fruit. Muffins. Miss Swan likes blueberry. And I’ve included some sliced ham and sugarless cookies for Miss Matilda. You know she has the diabetes.”

  “Thank you. You’re very efficient.”

  “I’ve put out car keys for you. Miss Swan bought a Lexus this spring.”

  “That will be fine.” I picked up some papers and began to scan them. Gloria cleared her throat. “There is a meeting here in a few days. There will be houseguests. It is a very important meeting.”

  I frowned. “Is this the guest list?” I held up a sheet. She nodded. I read a dozen names, including the directors of several state social agencies and the outreach chairs of major interfaith church organizations. VIPs. What was this about?

  “Should I cancel the arrangements?” Gloria asked.

  “No.”

  “You will be in charge?”

  “I think I can manage.”

  “Where I come from, a granddaughter honors her grandmother. I hope you will find it in your heart to stay here and do this work. I would give you the same respect I give your grandmother.”

  “Good. Then help me out, here. Did my grandmother have a guest recently—a woman she met two days ago? Did she say anything about that?”

  Gloria stared at me. “I know of no one.”

  And you wouldn’t tell me if you did, I thought. I eyed her bluntly. “My grandmother is not exactly a warm and lovable person who inspires adoration. Why are you so loyal?”

  Disdain gleamed in her eyes. “She pays fairly and she treats people with respect. I have worked for Americans who did neither. In my part of the world, we don’t expect an employer to be our friend. We understand that the strong protect the weak, and the weak owe loyalty to the strong.”