“Thank you,” he said. “For everything you’ve done for me, thank you. But I feel like I’m really putting you out by camping out in your study.”
Alix lifted her head, kissing him sweetly. “I’m so happy to do it,” she assured him. “In fact, they let me take a few weeks off with FMLA. Levenger was really generous about letting me take the time off to care for my ‘significant other’.”
He looked surprised. “Really?” he said. “You did that?”
She grinned. “Of course I did,” she replied. “But I have to be careful about rationing it because I want to take time off when the baby is born, too.”
His grin broadened. “So I get you all to myself for a while?”
“You sure do. At least, until the baby comes.”
He snorted happily, pulling her into an embrace again, made slightly awkward because of his aching ribs. Next to them, Rose was laughing happily at the sponge and starfish cartoon as the boys came back into the room bearing plates of food. Cord glanced up at his boys as he released Alix.
“Speaking of babies,” he muttered, accepting a big plate of barbeque from Chris. “Wow, thanks for this. Looks great.”
Chris handed him napkins as Kyle put a soda on the table next to the fold-out. “What babies?” Kyle asked.
Cord looked at Alix, who shrugged at him with a smile playing on her lips. Cord gazed up at the boys standing around, all four of them.
“I think we could all use some good news,” he said, looking at the concerned and eager faces. “I know it’s no big secret that Alix and I are going to get married. You guys are cool with that, right?”
The boys nodded. Even Cole and Sean, the original holdouts, nodded without hesitation. It was evident that they had become completely comfortable with the relationship between their parents. Cord reached out and grasped Alix’s hand as he continued.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “this has been such a bad week for all of us and I want to change that. I’m going to heal, everything is going to be fine, and Alix and I are getting married very soon. Plus, there’s something else we need to talk about and I hope you guys will be as happy as we are. Alix and I are going to have a baby next summer.”
Kyle and Cole looked at their dad with their mouths hanging open while Chris just started laughing. “I’m going to be leaving for college,” he said, pointing at the younger boys. “You dudes are going to have to change the diapers.”
He was having a great time at his brothers’ expense. Eventually, Kyle and Cole began to grin but Sean, standing next to Cole, was just staring at his mother. Without a word, he turned and left the room. Alix watched her son go.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, getting up off the bed and following Sean’s trail.
She found him out in the driveway, heading for the big shed that still housed some of the old furniture. Alix caught up to him as he neared the old structure.
“Hey,” she said, gently grasping his arm. “Where are you going? What’s wrong?”
Sean pulled away from his mother, looking at his feet. “Nothing,” he said, although he was still walking. “I don’t know. Just… leave me alone for a while, would you?”
Alix continued to follow him. “Please, Sean,” she commanded softly. “Stop. Please tell me what you’re feeling. Please tell me why you’re upset.”
He came to a stop but he wouldn’t look at her. He just stared at the ground, kicking at little pebbles. “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” he muttered. “I guess… I guess I’m feeling weird.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he kicked a pebble away, growing agitated. “Because if you’re… you’re going to have a baby, that means… I just don’t like thinking about that.”
Alix could see what he was driving at, embarrassed and frustrated. “You don’t like the thought of sex?”
He nodded sharply but kept his mouth shut. Alix could feel a great deal of sympathy for the confused young man and labored to keep the conversation sensitive yet comforting.
“Cord and I are adults,” she said. “We can make decisions like that for ourselves. Most importantly, we love each other very much and when adults love each other, sex is a part of that demonstration. It’s normal and natural.”
He sighed sharply. “I just don’t like to think about him… you know, touching you… it’s just weird.”
“Then don’t think about it,” she said frankly. “You shouldn’t be, anyway. What Cord and I do is our business and you need to accept the fact that your mother isn’t dead, Sean. She’s in love with a very good man and this baby is a result of that love. We’re very happy about it and I hope you can be, too. But I want you to know that you can always talk to me about this kind of thing, but if not me, there are lots of other people who would be happy to help you work through your feelings.”
He just shrugged, still kicking at the ground, and Alix took a few steps in his direction. “I love you, Sean,” she said gently. “You’re my firstborn, my son, and I love you more than anything. You know that. This baby won’t take away from that and getting married to Cord can’t take away from it, either. Nothing will ever change that. Okay?”
Sean looked at her, then. “Why is it okay for you and Cord to have a baby and you’re not married?” he wanted to know. “If I got some girl pregnant right now, I’d get in big trouble.”
It was a legitimate question. “Because Cord and I are responsible adults, with jobs, and we’re able to make decisions like that for our lives,” she said honestly. “You’re sixteen years old, Sean. Do you have any idea how having a child would affect your life? You’d grow up in an instant and end up having to be an adult before you were emotionally ready for it. Do you have a job? A place to live? A college degree? No, you don’t. You don’t have any of these things; therefore, you can’t make a responsible decision like that about your life. You’d have two human beings dependent on you and no way to provide for them.”
Sean fell silent, kicking at the ground. His mother, as always, made sense. But he still wasn’t sure how he felt about anything. More than anything, he just wanted to be alone so he could sort it all out. He waved his mother off.
“I get it,” he said. “I’ll be okay. I just need to… think.”
Alix sighed, watching her handsome son as he struggled with his feelings. “If you want to talk, I’m just inside.” She pointed to the house as she began wandering back towards it. “Or if you want to talk to Chris or Kyle, you know they’ll listen. Cord’s pretty wise, too, you know.”
Sean just nodded and waved her off again, so Alix headed back into the house. He wandered out to the old shed that was so picturesque amongst the trees and tall grass. There was still a ton of old furniture out in it and he leaned against the big dresser that had nearly squashed his mother that day so long ago when they had first moved in.
He sighed heavily, thinking on his mom’s announcement and the way his life was changing. He wasn’t the only one in for a change but he felt like it; for so long it had only been him and his mom because his dad really hadn’t been around much and when he was, he never seemed to take a lot of interest in his only son. Therefore, Sean and his mother had been very close; this move to the East Coast had been okay with him because he didn’t hold any real fondness for California and if he were to admit the truth, he kind of liked having three brothers. It made him feel part of something bigger, like he wasn’t so alone anymore.
But then there was Cord, the man he was now sharing his mother with. He had resigned himself to that, but now with the baby, he was going to have to get used to that, too. Now, instead of just him and his mom and Rose, there were four other people in his family and soon a fifth. He knew how much his mother loved Cord and he’d stopped being jealous of that long ago. They were all melding into one big family, something he never thought he’d be a part of.
Sitting down on an old chair next to the dresser, he thought about the new baby and wondered if it would be another boy. There sure
would be a lot of boys in the family, but he was okay with it. In fact, if he thought hard on what his mother said, he was okay with everything. He was loved, he was happy, and, in the end, that was all that mattered.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
December
Mrs. Mowbray stood on the wide porch of Evenshade, gazing up at the structure with some awe and fear. The last time she’d seen Evenshade had been decades ago; she lived in another part of town these days and didn’t get much opportunity to get over to the older section that used to be the outskirts of Salem Village. Evenshade had gone through a great deal of renovation and looked beautiful. She was duly impressed.
Knocking on the big, newly restored front door with its original knocker, she was in the process of inspecting the door itself when it suddenly opened. A young man stood there, gazing back at her.
“Hi,” he said.
Mrs. Mowbray smiled nervously, displaying her yellowed teeth. “Hello,” she said. “I’m from the Salem Historical Society. I’m looking for Mrs. Hendry.”
“Dr. Hendry is my mom,” the young man said. “She’s in the kitchen; I’ll get her.”
Mrs. Mowbray waited patiently on the door stoop as Sean wandered down the wide central hall, calling for his mother. As she heard chatter towards the back of the house, Mrs. Mowbray peered inside the house, studying the newly renovated floors and spectacular staircase that led up to the second floor. Everything, from what she could see, was beautifully restored. As she squinted at an eighteenth century portrait of a woman in a white dress on the wall near the door, Alix emerged from the dining room.
“Mrs. Mowbray,” she greeted her. “Please come in. I’m sorry my son didn’t invite you inside to wait.”
Mrs. Mowbray stepped inside, shaking Alix’s extended hand. “Not to worry,” she said. “He was very polite.”
“Thank you,” Alix said, but she could see the woman’s attention was on the house. “Did you drop by to see the house? I’d be happy to show you around.”
Mrs. Mowbray nodded. “I would love to see it,” she said eagerly. “However, my purpose today was not to see the house. It was to give you a little more information about the legends surrounding it. After you left a few weeks ago, I did some research and found out a few things you might like to know.”
Alix was eager to hear. “Of course I would,” she said, indicating for the woman to follow her back to the kitchen. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I just made some fresh.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Mowbray said as they entered the kitchen.
The kitchen was a masterpiece of stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and black and white flooring that all blended seamlessly to create a restored kitchen space that looked chic yet appropriate for the age and architecture of the house. Alix indicated for the woman to sit at the stylish kitchen table and Mrs. Mowbray took a seat, setting her purse and a briefcase-like bag on the chair next to her. As Alix poured the coffee, Mrs. Mowbray looked around the spectacular kitchen.
“The house is beautiful,” she said sincerely. “You have done a remarkable and tasteful job of restoring it.”
Alix came over with the cups and set one of them down in front of Mrs. Mowbray. “Thank you,” she said as she sat at the table. “We’re still working on the bedrooms upstairs but it’s almost finished.”
“I’m sure this house never looked so good, even when it was new.”
Alix grinned, pleased that the woman from the Historical Society thought so much of what she had done. But she noticed that Mrs. Mowbray had brought some things with her so she indicated the briefcase.
“So,” she said, “what else have you found out about the house?”
The old woman immediately began opening up her bag. “You really whet my interest when you came a few weeks ago asking about this house,” she said as she pulled out some papers. “I thought I’d look into it some more to see if I could find out anything else. Since it is so heavily associated with the Salem witch trials, I started there. I searched many different documents without any luck until I came to the journal kept by Dorothy Good. If you recall, that was Sarah Good’s daughter.”
Alix nodded, interested. “I do,” she said. “What did she say?”
Mrs. Mowbray passed her some photocopies. As Alix peered at the copies made of faded, barely legible writing, Mrs. Mowbray began to speak. “Those are copies of a section of Dorothy’s journal that I thought you would find interesting,” she said. “Dorothy was only four or five when her mother was sent to jail and, subsequently, Dorothy was questioned by the inquisition and also put in jail. She was the youngest person to be accused of witchcraft during those trials.”
Alix lifted her head and looked at Mrs. Mowbray. “Four or five years old?” she repeated. “She was my daughter’s age. She was just a baby.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Mowbray agreed sadly. “But, as a child, she was interrogated and admitted to all sorts of things, including incriminating herself as a witch. She had a big imagination.”
Alix refocused on the photocopies with very juvenile writing on them, shaking her head with disbelief. “Kids that age make up all kinds of things,” she said, immediately thinking of Rose and the sad girl who followed her around. She found herself struggling to shake off the feelings of unease as she had come to discover that Rose hadn’t been making up that particular friend. “Children that age hardly have a grasp of anything beyond their own growing worlds. I can’t believe adults would have taken anything seriously from a five-year-old.”
Mrs. Mowbray nodded. “Sad, but true,” she said. “In any case, it was well known that Dorothy Good suffered from mental issues the rest of her life and it was attributed to her incarceration. It seems strange that a child that young, who was really only jailed for a few short months, should be so mentally troubled by so short an exposure, so I started reading her journal to see if there was something more to it, perhaps something more that happened during that time. I think I found it.”
Alix perked up. “What did you find?”
Mrs. Mowbray sighed heavily and took the photocopies back from Alix. She shuffled them around before she came to the one she was looking for. She glanced at Alix, perhaps apologetically, before continuing.
“Dorothy wrote in her journal of her mother bearing a child in jail,” she said. “This, too, is documented, but apparently Dorothy was the only one present when her mother gave birth to the baby. That, in and of itself, would probably scar a child, but there’s more to it. According to Dorothy, she was released from jail a short time before her mother was hanged and when she was released, she says that her mother had her smuggle the baby out of prison. She said her mother told her to take the baby to Bebe’s house.”
Alix cocked her head thoughtfully. “Bebe’s house?” she repeated. “I thought the husband brought the dead baby here to bury it under the house?”
Mrs. Mowbray shook her head. “According to Dorothy, she’s the one that took the baby from the jail,” she said. “Now, you must remember that Dorothy is barely older than a toddler herself at this time so her recollections may or may not be entirely accurate. But she states that she took the baby to Abigail’s house but that her pet snake told her to throw it down the well because it was evil. So she did.”
Alix’s eyes widened. “She threw the baby down the well?”
Mrs. Mowbray pointed at the photocopy that apparently contained the fateful entry. “That’s what she says.”
“So the husband didn’t bury it?”
“Not according to Dorothy.”
“But there’s no well on this property that I know of.”
“To protect the water source and to make it convenient, wells were sometimes sunk and the houses were built up around them.”
Alix looked stricken. “In the basement?”’
“Exactly.”
Alix’s mind began to race. So much of this weird tale was starting to make sense; most importantly, both tales she had heard referred to something being buried unde
r the house. It was true that there hadn’t been any more paranormal events since Halloween and there were days when the house seemed very charming and normal, but now she was starting to feel creeped out again. She didn’t like it at all.
“That poor little girl,” she said after a moment. “If this is true, what a burden she carried.”
“Enough of a burden to mentally scar her for the rest of her life.”
“That’s for sure,” Alix said, thinking on a five-year-old throwing a dead baby into the well. “I don’t even know if there’s a well in the basement. The laundry room is down there but I haven’t really gone exploring.”
Mrs. Mowbray returned her attention to the photocopies. “I suppose this all really doesn’t matter in the long run,” she said. “I just brought it to your attention because I thought it was interesting. Just more folklore.”
Alix still wasn’t happy about it. “I suppose,” she said. “Thank you for sharing this. Can I keep these photocopies?”
Mrs. Mowbray nodded. “I brought them for you.”
“Thank you,” Alix said again, peering at the copies of the very old script. “This story of Sarah and Dorothy and Mercy just seems to get sadder and sadder. Whatever happened to Dorothy?”
Mrs. Mowbray shrugged. “She lived the rest of her life as an outcast, at least until her late teens,” she said. “After that, no one seems to know. I can’t find any record of her as an adult, or if she even married or had children of her own. I did find reference to her working as a servant girl, but that’s really it. Being mentally unstable limited her in many ways.”
“So she just disappeared?”
“It seems so.”
Alix thought on that. “How strange,” she muttered. “And how sad.”
Before Mrs. Mowbray could reply, Rose came running into the kitchen. She ran straight to her mother, looking shyly at Mrs. Mowbray. Alix put her arms around her daughter and kissed her head.
“This is my daughter, Rose,” she said. “Rosie, this is Mrs. Mowbray.”
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