If Memory Serves

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “Miss Fleming decided to keep who I was a secret from everyone, including her family,” Gayle said. “When a man like Montgomery Powell the Second is involved, you can never be too careful.”

  “I’m sitting here wondering why Grandmother never told us any of this,” Lena said. “She knew I was familiar with Pearl Black. In all these years, she could have mentioned something to me. Something.”

  “I can’t answer that question, but when Montgomery learned I was employed as Miss Fleming’s personal private home-nurse,” Gayle said, “as expected, he wasted no time in contacting me and making me a lucrative offer. I listened to what he had to say, then told Miss Fleming everything. She was the one who came up with the plan.”

  “What plan?” Memory asked.

  “That I would keep my identity from everyone including her family and close friends, that I would keep a low profile so as not to draw attention to myself, and that I would not only talk to Montgomery but agree to cooperate with him as much as possible. I would essentially be like a double agent.”

  “So Montgomery wanted you to spy on Grandmother?” Lena asked.

  “Yes. He wanted to know everything he could about her intentions, who she talked with, who she visited, who visited her, who she trusted—”

  “Who was in her will when it came to her house,” Memory said.

  “Exactly. Things like that.” Gayle stood up and began pacing as she spoke. “Miss Fleming always told me what to tell him. I quickly gained his trust as a reliable informant, just as she’d planned. Even at almost ninety, Miss Fleming was truly a sharp lady, sharper than most that are a third her age.”

  “So you were the one who told Montgomery about the problems between me, Lena, and Theresa?” Memory asked.

  “Yes. I told him about your having taken the Alexandrite necklace from them, which, as it turns out, was like he’d hit the jackpot. He had the necklace, which neither of us knew at the time. He was ecstatic, thinking things were finally ‘falling into place perfectly,’ as he put it.”

  “ ‘Falling into place’ because he had been the one to pay the reward for the Alexandrite necklace that caused me to go searching for Lena in order to get it back in the first place,” Memory said.

  “Yes. But that wasn’t part of the plan,” Gayle said. “He’d gotten the necklace back before things turned around so badly for him when Miss Fleming returned to the Fleming mansion and took possession of it. Originally, he wanted the necklace because it was part of the family’s legacy . . . a family heirloom.”

  “A family heirloom he obviously didn’t have a problem letting go of when it suited his needs,” Memory said, referring to how he was willing to trade the necklace for her promise to sell him the house.

  “Knowing that the necklace had caused such a rift in your relationship with your child and grandchild fit right into his new plan,” Gayle said, standing in front of them. “I’m not implying, by any means, that he shared his thoughts and plans with me. But when things are going well for Montgomery, there’s a certain gleam in his eyes, and he loves to brag.”

  “But why would you tell him we were having problems?” Lena asked. “Didn’t you know he would use it to try and destroy us if he could?”

  Gayle looked more at Lena as she answered her. “My instructions from Miss Fleming were to do whatever it took to make him believe I was on his side. As long as Montgomery trusted me, he would be satisfied with coming to me for information he needed inside the house. That always provided Miss Fleming with a heads-up. I had no way of knowing he had that necklace in his possession to be able to use against you. I could never have guessed that.”

  “So you were the one who took the necklace and the Wings of Grace box out of Lena’s room that night?” Memory asked, sitting back against the couch.

  Gayle shook her head. “No, it wasn’t me.”

  “Then who was it, and how did Grandmother get it back?” Lena asked.

  “It was her friend Polly. We had suspected Polly might be playing both sides, but we weren’t positive how much she was, if she was. Miss Fleming never told me this, but I believe Polly purposely sought her out to befriend her. Although I will say that after Polly spent time with Miss Fleming and got to really know her, she genuinely did care about her. I’m certain that couldn’t have done anything except complicate whatever deal she may have had with Montgomery.”

  “That makes no sense,” Memory said. “I don’t understand. How could Polly have gotten the necklace and the box? She wasn’t anywhere around when it came up missing.”

  “Polly had a key to the house. Miss Fleming trusted her that much, in spite of her suspicions about her and her loyalty. Miss Fleming learned from Mr. Seymour’s people that Polly knew Montgomery well. They happened to roll in the same circles. When Miss Fleming got sick that Saturday and was taken to the hospital, I called Polly to let her know. From what Miss Fleming told me after she learned the truth, Polly came in right before your husband”—Gayle looked at Lena—“came in from playing golf. She saw the necklace and the box on the bed, when she heard someone enter the house. She took the necklace, put it in the box, and left your bedroom. She went to Miss Fleming’s bedroom, feeling she’d have an easier time explaining being in there if she got caught.”

  “I still don’t understand. Did she take the box and necklace home? Did she give it to Montgomery?” Memory asked. “What did she do?”

  “Fortunately for y’all, she hid it under Miss Fleming’s bed with plans to get it later,” Gayle said. “And that’s where I found them. Actually, it was Miss Fleming who figured all this out and told me where to find them.”

  “So why didn’t she tell us?” Lena asked. “She knew we were trying to find out who took those things. We even questioned you, Gayle.”

  “Miss Fleming believed deep down Polly was still a good woman. Polly had made a mistake by getting in bed with Montgomery, and I mean that both figuratively and literally. But Miss Fleming cared very much for her. Polly and Miss Fleming had shared lots of great and memorable times together. She was never one to just throw love she had for a person away merely because things had gone badly.”

  “So that’s why she left that brooch to Polly in her will?” Lena said, happy that some things were starting to make a little more sense. “Grandmother took the brooch out and showed it to me right before the Christmas celebration. She told me how much Polly adored it, and just how much it was worth,” Lena said. “She was planning on giving it to Polly as a present during our Christmas in June festivity. A festivity Polly was noticeably absent from. Now we know why.”

  Lance Seymour knocked, then opened the door when he was told to come in. “We were wondering where y’all went. You gals all right in here?” he asked with his deep, pure, unadulterated Southern drawl.

  Gayle smiled. “Yes, we’re fine.”

  Lena stood up. “I need to go find Theresa and Richard. I’m sure they’re probably wondering if I got lost when I came looking for you. It’s getting late. I know everyone’s ready to get on home.”

  Memory nodded as she slowly stood up. Lance and Lena left together. Memory and Gayle stayed behind a few minutes longer.

  “I want to thank you for all you did for my mother,” Memory said.

  “Memory, your mother was truly one in a million,” Gayle said. “She loved you more than you’ll ever know. I’m going to miss her—truly, I am. But she certainly surprised me leaving me that one hundred thousand dollars in her will. I had no idea she was doing anything like that. No idea. This shows how much executors really know.”

  “Yes, she was a special woman. I only wish I’d gotten to spend more time with her. That’s the tragedy of all of this. But I do love how she put the house in a trust for Theresa’s children. Now, that was a real classy move.” Memory laughed. “Especially in light of Montgomery’s plans to try and get that house. Checkmate!” Memory shook her head as she smiled, looked down, then back up. “So, what are your plans now?”

  Gayle shr
ugged. “I told you earlier how I’d promised my grandmother two things. One, if I ever got the chance to do right by Sarah Fleming, I would. Well, I’ve accomplished that. Seeing all of you together is such a fantastic feeling. The other thing my grandmother asked me to do was to see if I could locate her oldest daughter, Arletha. I doubt she’s still living, but I promised my grandmother I would at least find out what happened to her.”

  Memory laughed. “That’s funny. I met a woman named Arletha a few months back. Arletha Brown is her name. Maybe this woman is the person you’re looking for. Arletha is not a common name at all. This woman I met lives in Birmingham, Alabama.”

  “Interesting. I have a second cousin who moved to Birmingham a few years back. Her name is Angela Gabriel. We call her Angel. She’s a member of Pastor Landris’s church. You wouldn’t happen to know her, would you?”

  “No, I can’t say our paths have ever crossed,” Memory said.

  “Angel’s mother was Rebecca. She died when Angel was about five years old. My grandmother, Pearl Black, was the one who raised her. Arletha happens to be Rebecca’s mother. Until just before my grandmother died, no one—including my grandmother—hardly ever spoke of Arletha or mentioned her name. My grandmother is the reason I ended up moving to Asheville. I came to see her before she died. After she passed away, Angel wanted to pursue a job opportunity in Birmingham. Grandmother’s house would have been sitting there empty unless the family decided to rent it out. The thought of strangers in her house, not taking care of it . . . I just couldn’t see that. So I bought my grandmother’s house and moved in. I’m pretty sure the woman you met can’t be my great-aunt,” Gayle said as she glanced at her watch, then started for the door. “That would just be too easy. Nothing’s ever that easy.”

  She and Memory walked out of the door. “Honestly,” Gayle said, “I doubt Arletha is even still alive. According to my grandmother, she’s been gone for almost fifty years now, by last count. And she never came home to see Grandmother in all of those years. Not once. I can’t imagine—I don’t care what might have happened—a daughter not ever going home to see her mother. Not ever? I do know there was a huge falling out that occurred between them. All Grandmother said was that her daughter was prostituting her body and being loose throughout the neighborhood. She wasn’t about to have any daughter of hers acting like a tramp. Not while she was alive and breathing and could do something about it. She told me she even went as far as to disown her. So Arletha left one day, without a word, a good-bye, or anything else. Grandmother said she never heard from her again. She most likely married, so her last name would be different, which always makes a search that much more difficult.”

  “Well, like I said, Arletha is not a common name. There’s no harm in checking out this woman I met. But there’s no way the person you just described could be this lady. I rented a room from her for a few weeks. She is super-religious and very judgmental, especially of sinners. But I’ll be happy to give you her phone number and address. If it’s not her, at least you can scratch her name off your list.”

  “That sounds great,” Gayle said. “Give me her information, and I’ll check her out. My cousin, Angel, the one I was just telling you about, is getting married October fifteenth in what my mother claims will be the wedding to top all weddings, at least for our family. I’m going, so I’ll be in Birmingham in a few months. Maybe I’ll call this woman and see where it leads, although I’m not going to get my hopes up. Still, I promised my grandmother I would try. That’s all I can do.”

  “Maybe you can get your cousin to do some legwork for you since she lives in Birmingham. She could go check out Arletha Brown for you.”

  “My grandmother specifically asked me not to tell Angel anything unless or until I find Arletha.” They reached the lobby area and could see the rest of the family was there waiting for Memory.

  Gayle stopped walking so their conversation could remain out of earshot. “As I said, my grandmother or others in the family never spoke of Arletha, so Angel is limited in what she knows. If I bring this up without having found Arletha, it will just open up a can of worms none of us need or want right now. I suppose that’s why Grandmother asked me to do this instead of involving Angel. Between me and you . . . my grandmother always favored Angel over all her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I’m not jealous, though. There’s always seemingly a favored one in every family. My grandmother was extremely protective of Angel when she was alive. They were close.”

  “I understand,” Memory said, looking in her pocketbook for a pen and a piece of paper to write down Arletha’s phone number and address. She handed the information to Gayle. “In a way, I kind of hope this is what you’re looking for. Although I’m not sure that after you meet the Arletha I knew whether you’ll believe it to be a blessing or a curse. But at least if this turns out to be her, you would have kept yet another promise to your grandmother.”

  Gayle took the paper, looked at it, and carefully placed it in the side pocket of her purse.

  “If you’ll permit me,” Memory said, “I’d like to give you a word of advice. This comes from personal experience. I believe it’s always better to learn from someone else’s bad experiences as opposed to having to always learn from your own. Secrets like these always have a way of coming back to haunt folks. Secrets can rob, and secrets can destroy. If I were you, I’d tell Angel what’s going on, even if you never find her grandmother.” Memory changed her purse to hang from her other shoulder.

  “Personally,” Memory continued, “I believe your cousin has a right to know. If I could go back and do things over in my life, there are so many things I would do differently. One thing, I never would have left Mamie Patterson’s house the way I did. And I wouldn’t have ever taken that necklace from Lena and Theresa. Then I may have learned about Sarah that much earlier, and who knows how much more time she and I might have had together. If only things had been done differently. But you can’t go back and change things. So take heed to the counsel of one who knows from firsthand experience. It will be better, for all around, to be up front now. Allow my life to serve you in making a better choice as you proceed.”

  “I’ll take those words under advisement,” Gayle said. She and Memory hugged. Then Gayle walked over to the others and said her good-byes to them.

  Gayle’s job was done. It was now time for her to move on to other things.

  Chapter 53

  Wherefore comfort one another with these words.

  1 Thessalonians 4:18

  “In loving memory, the Harris family,” the tall, lanky woman said, standing before an overflowing congregation, reading a pledge given, in lieu of flowers, of one thousand dollars toward a newly established scholarship created to bless deserving young people.

  Because of her death, people were praying mightily for Pastor Landris. Many speculated as to how he could possibly preach a funeral for one so close and dear to his heart. They’d heard the explanation of why he said he had to do it. “It’s what she would have wanted,” he had said. He was laying aside his own grief and pressing toward the mark of a higher calling in Christ Jesus, just as he’d been anointed and appointed by God to do.

  Still, there were plenty that doubted he’d be able to do this without breaking down.

  A collective stillness swept over the congregation when he rose to speak. The white casket below was a blanket of beautiful white roses. Landris had truly spared no expense when it came to her. There was nothing more he could do to show his love for her on this side. This time of speaking would be to comfort and minister to those grieving the loss of a loved one or those who would lose a loved one in the future. He needed to tell those who might not know Jesus Christ all about His mercy that endures forever. He wanted to tell them what Jesus has already done to ensure the salvation of those who choose to accept Him as their Lord and Savior.

  Landris would never be able to fully explain to anyone exactly why things had happened the way that they had. Yes, she w
as doing well. She had been through a lot, but she had also made it through. In truth, no one expected her to die—not now, anyway. Not when everything was going so wonderfully in her life. It had truly come as a shock.

  Isaiah Barron Edward Landris had come home to a grand homecoming. Landris could be thankful and comforted in knowing that she’d at least gotten to spend time with Isaiah before she died. There were still many who questioned why God would allow this to happen. But Landris refused to be dragged into that conversation or speculation. He thanked God for the time she did have and for the precious moments she’d gotten to spend with her family prior to this tragedy happening. Landris thanked God for how He had allowed her to see and hold Isaiah. He thanked God for the memories he would forever cherish in his heart of her. Memories he would share with his son one day. Pictures that would forever be embedded, in loving memory, inside of him of her holding Isaiah in her arms . . . flooding his little face with kisses while proudly beaming.

  Instead, Landris directed others to begin looking at what they have to be thankful for instead of always focusing on what’s lost or what will never be experienced.

  “Regardless of what happens,” Landris had said, “God is still God, and He’s still worthy to be praised.”

  He stood before a packed building—a magnificent edifice she’d reverently sat in, in awe of God’s power, the day they had officially moved in it as a congregation—now to preach her funeral. There were so many who had come to show their love, support, respect, and to say good-bye. For a brief moment, his eyes rested on Princess Rose as she sat next to Johnnie Mae’s mother and his heart couldn’t help but go out to her.

  “If you will, please open your Bibles to First Thessalonians chapter four, beginning at verse thirteen,” Landris said, then waited as the congregation complied. “I want you all to understand that, although we will miss her”—he paused, composed himself, and nodded—“and I personally will miss her greatly, this is not a sad occasion. This is a celebration of the life of one who was loved and, to some, adored. This is a celebration for one who has gone home to be with the Lord. We know this is not our home. We didn’t come here to stay. We’re merely strangers passing through for a few seasons. And although she may have moved out of this earthly vessel, she’s not really gone; she simply changed her address. As the apostle Paul so aptly declared, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. She’s with the Lord now. In truth, she’s in a much better place than even we who remain are, because she is with the Lord.”