“Dr. Warren, you want something else?” asked Sherry. “A sandwich? Or I could make a breakfast pizza.”
Bender’s hand trembled as he lifted the spoon to his mouth. “I didn’t hold down the last pizza,” he said. “Better feed me like you would a helpless baby.” He dropped the berries back into the dish.
Self-pity did not look good on him. It took only a glance from him for Saphora to realize that he wanted Eddie taken out of the room before he broke down.
“Eddie, I think you should go into the tree house and straighten it up,” she said. “Tobias could visit and it’s a mess.”
Eddie walked out quickly and Sherry followed.
Saphora said to Bender, “Gwennie’s coming today. You should try and shower, put forth your best foot, all that.” She felt her lip quivering, so she bit it until it nearly bled.
“Today’s Friday? How did I lose a day?” He lay back onto his pillow. The rims of his eyes were outlined in the color of Eddie’s raspberries. “I don’t want Gwennie seeing me helpless. It’ll kill her. Help me into the shower, Saphora.”
“I’ll get the water ready. You come along on the walker. It’s good practice,” she said.
She got the water misting up the stall like a steam room. Bender made it as far as the door, but then he stopped as if his soul hovered between the ceiling and the floor. Saphora helped him to the shower. “It can’t help your equilibrium to lie down all day. Try and stay up,” she said.
“I feel weak. Good Lord, am I dying already?”
“Dizziness is just a symptom of, you know, drugs and all.” She was grasping for an explanation. He shouldn’t see her afraid. “Here’s what I’ll do.” She helped him undress as she said, “I’ll help you clean up.” She pulled off his shirt.
“That’s the best news I’ve had all day.” He hobbled into the shower.
“You hold on while I scrub,” she said.
He let her take over. Then he smiled and looked younger doing it. “Here I look like an old man and you’re as youthful as the day I married you,” he said.
He had not told her she looked young in so long he surprised the wits out of her. She joined a gym years ago, but he never said he noticed when she firmed up or, busy with running after the kids, had to let herself go.
She poured soap into a loofah. “This is rough. Maybe too rough. If your skin is too sensitive, I can use something else.”
His skin did look thin, like the skin of a premature baby. Saphora half expected to see his heart beating through his chest. He used both hands to brace himself against the tile. “It’s fine.” Then came the tears, coming over the rim of his emotions like a waterfall. Bender had not been a man to cry, so it was painful to see him letting go. But strangely comforting, as if he were turning into a mortal in plain sight of her. Maybe the Bender of the Serengeti was never a real person after all.
11
And what guarantee have we that the future will be any better if we neglect the present? Can one solve world problems when one is unable to solve one’s own? Where have we arrived in this process? Have we been successful, working at the periphery of the circle and not at the center?
ANNE MORROW LINDBERGH, Gift from the Sea
The last thing Gwennie told Saphora was not to pick her up from the airport Friday afternoon. She wanted to drive in and have time to think, she said. She was one of those girls who thrived in isolation. That was why she could spend hours poring over court records or writing up a dissertation as if the whole world waited expectantly for her to release it.
But knowing that Gwennie planned to arrive at two fifteen left Saphora with too much time to pace and watch out the front windows. She cleaned up the formal living room and then the guest room so that she could work with the blinds fully opened to the front drive. A car pulled into the drive, and her heart nearly stuck in her throat.
“What are you cleaning for, Miss Saphora? I cleaned those rooms yesterday,” said Sherry.
“I think Gwennie’s here,” she said.
“Eddie asked Tobias over. That’s his mother’s car, isn’t it?” she asked.
Saphora pulled back the faded curtain. “It’s Tobias.”
Eddie ran upstairs. He was still wearing only a pair of tattered race-car underwear and a T-shirt. “Tell Tobias I’ll meet him in the tree house,” he said.
Sherry met Tobias at the door. Saphora ran to answer the kitchen phone. Jim told her he had given their phone number to a home health nurse. Saphora took down her information and told Jim she would call her if Bender worsened. Between Sherry and her, the two of them had managed his cancer as good as any nurse. She was getting the hang of it but knew that any day her stint would be over.
When she came back to see if Tobias had eaten lunch, Sherry was smiling so big she looked near to bursting. She was holding the door open for Gwennie, who shouldered her things in an overnight pack. Sherry laughed as Gwennie threw her arms around her mother.
“Gwennie, you’re too thin, but look how beautiful you are!” Saphora was near to crying again. “Come in and see your daddy.”
“Is he upstairs?” asked Gwennie.
“We fixed him up a bed in the library so he can watch the boats pass.”
“I’ll leave you to visit. Girl, it’s good to see you. I like that red in your hair,” said Sherry.
Gwennie planted a kiss on Sherry’s cheek. “Here. It’s from a little jeweler’s in Manhattan. They make their things so pretty and no one piece like the other.”
Sherry accepted Gwennie’s box and tore it open right then. “A pearl bracelet.” She held it up for Saphora to see.
“Gold. Delicate little pearls,” said Saphora.
“And one diamond. Your birthstone, Sherry,” said Gwennie. “The pearls came from Hawaii. You said you always wanted to go.”
“Now you’re making me cry,” said Sherry. “I’ll wear this to church.”
“Wear it for everyday,” said Gwennie. “Mother’s always saying she saves things for special days. But don’t wait.” She shifted the small throw pillow she carried under her arm. She had traveled with that pillow since she was in college. It was a pillow her daddy gave her when she graduated high school. It said, “Love is forever.”
“This girl’s gone and got some wisdom since we saw her,” said Sherry.
Gwennie pulled out a big brown sack with rope handles. “For you, Mama. Open it.”
“I don’t need anything but you here,” said Saphora. “But I’ll open it.” She snapped apart the red ribbon that tied the handles together. “It’s our wedding picture!”
“I had it blown up and framed,” said Gwennie. “Turner slipped it out of the house and mailed it to me.”
“You’ll not believe this. This matting matches the quilt I just put on my bed,” said Saphora.
“There’s my girl.” Bender had gotten up out of the bed and walked into the foyer, using his cane. Saphora had helped him dress in a woven shirt the color of peaches.
Gwennie looked at her father, his somewhat withering frame standing under the last of the afternoon sun as it poured in from the overhead window; his bald head caught the light.
“Got a new hairdo for you,” said Bender.
“I love you, Daddy,” she said. She went to him and hugged him, but gently as if he might break into a thousand parts.
“I need a real Gwennie hug,” he said. “I’ve waited all day.”
Saphora helped her with the shoulder bag while Gwennie hugged her daddy.
“Let’s take the party back into the library,” said Saphora, worried he might slip on the polished floor.
“I need some fresh air. Let’s go out onto the deck,” he said.
Saphora stepped out of the way. “Gwennie, will you do him the honors and walk him out?”
There was no use arguing once he got back a portion of his strength. He took long purposeful strides as if he had not just spent the morning hanging on to Saphora for support. He was looking so rejuvenated it seemed as
if, during the time they all spent laughing and hearing Gwennie talking about her life in the Big Apple, for just those moments, there was no cancer.
“There was this big shark took my bait out in the Atlantic,” said Bender. “Let me tell you about that day, Gwen.”
Saphora was relieved at the effect Gwennie had on her daddy. He sat forward, holding those long fingers of his out like baseball gloves, using his hands to talk like he had always done. She could not take her eyes off him. Give him a listening ear, and he turned on the sparkle. She remembered the first time he had asked her for a dance at a street festival in Charlotte. The air was so dense and humid it felt like a giant breathing down her collar as she and Marcy waited for their dates to show up.
She and Marcy were supposed to meet two frat guys from their biology lab for drinks. The guys ran late. While she and Marcy got in line for hot dogs, Bender and his friend Jim were looking for the beer stand. Marcy invited them into line. Jim took his time about noticing Marcy, so it didn’t bother her to tell them that they were waiting for dates. Competition might have been the reason Bender moved in and asked Saphora to dance.
He danced with her, meandering them through the uptown mob of people, moving her farther away from Marcy and their dates. Bender could dance and converse without missing a step. The first thing she liked about him was the sound of his voice. He had only a slight southern turn to his syllables. He was smooth, and she was carried up in his charisma. He was not afraid to kiss her that night either when he walked her back to her car. He pulled her close and pressed his forehead against hers. She remembered what he said just as plainly as she could recall other important things, like her childhood address.
“Mama, did you say you rented a boat for Saturday?” asked Gwennie. “Mama?”
Saphora opened her eyes. She had drifted so deeply into the past that Gwennie’s voice startled her. She answered Gwennie and then could not help but revisit the memory she had just left off when she was recalling their first kiss. It was right after he told her, “I don’t want this to end.”
By eight o’clock, the summer night brewed under the dying heat of the day. Turner pulled into the drive first. A half hour later Ramsey and Celeste parked out in the street. Turner let them in. Liam, Ramsey’s oldest child, hit the entry rug and then leaped, his wheeled sneakers squeaking across the polished floor. His twin brothers followed him, yipping like Chihuahua pups. Arnold and William were three and still running around in diapers the size of bowling bags.
Gwennie helped Sherry put out a stack of plates on the deck tables. Sherry said to Saphora, “Did I tell you your sister called?”
Emerald was Saphora’s younger sister. The two of them grew up complete opposites. The years became another excuse not to stay in touch. So she wasn’t surprised it had taken weeks for Emerald to check in about Bender.
“I’ll call her later tonight,” said Saphora.
“She’s flying in tomorrow,” said Sherry.
“We don’t have the room.”
“Your mother bought her a plane ticket.”
“That’s just like her,” said Saphora. “I don’t have the energy for Emerald and all this company too.”
“She can have my room.”
“Where will you sleep?”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you. I need to head back to Davidson.” She said it as if Saphora might yell at her. “I’ve been cooking all day. Your freezer is full and ready for every meal through Tuesday. Even made up burritos for all these boys you got running around. You can fry as chimichangas or microwave them.”
“Sherry, you can’t mean you’re leaving this weekend, not with all this company.”
“Mama says Malcolm’s missing me something fierce.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather you bring him back here. We’ll tell Emerald to get a hotel room,” said Saphora. “My sister should have planned better.”
“I’ll come back Monday. That’ll give you all family time. Miss Lacey can sleep in my bed. I will bring Malcolm back with me, though, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Saphora was trying to imagine managing everyone plus Emerald. Her sister was a walking bucket of tears. “Can Jerry just come up with Malcolm tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry. I promised to be at Malcolm’s game tomorrow night.” She waited for Saphora to acquiesce. When she didn’t, Sherry said, “I’ll cancel and stay.”
Gwennie said, “Not and miss your son’s game. Mama, I helped Sherry plan the meals. I know exactly what to do. All we have to do is warm the food, make a salad.” She said to Sherry, “You pack and head out in the morning. I’ll pick up Aunt Emerald at the airport.”
“You’re sure?” asked Sherry.
Gwennie gave her mama a look of disapproval.
“I’m being selfish. I’m sorry,” said Saphora. She knew that Gwennie was sacrificing to even pick Emerald up at the airport. She tolerated her even less than she did Celeste. Saphora could already imagine Emerald standing at the foot of Bender’s bed and sobbing over him. Her sister had been depressed since age six.
Sherry and Gwennie put out two kinds of enchiladas on a buffet service and wheeled it onto the deck.
Celeste was exhausted after wrestling with her three on the plane. “You would not believe,” she said, walking into the middle of them. “Liam tried to crash the cockpit. The flight attendants had to bribe him with cookies to get him back in his chair. I told him if they called airport security on him, I’d just have to let them take him away.”
Gwennie left them for the harbor of the kitchen as if she might say something she would regret.
Ramsey got up and ran off the deck, seeing Liam following Tobias and Eddie up the tree without his shoes. Arnold and William brought up the rear of the cousins’ troupe, dangling off the tree ladder’s bottom rungs.
Celeste glanced toward Ramsey, then turned back to Saphora. “I guess you heard Ramsey’s up for a promotion.”
Saphora’s life had been wrapped up in all things Bender. Ramsey had not told her a thing since he had gone into insurance anyway, though. He lived in his father’s shadow, nothing high enough to announce.
Ramsey was back in the deck chair now, listening to Turner talk about one of his patients. He looked uneasy, as if he might bolt from his chair. Celeste had drilled him to stay on the boys like a bird dog.
“The insurance company’s opening a new branch, and he’s being considered for the lead manager job,” said Celeste.
Since Ramsey had gotten his MBA from McColl at Queens, Gwennie had made it known to Saphora that the entry-level insurance job was beneath her brother’s talents. Perturbed at anything Celeste said, she turned away. “Sherry, I’ll get the picante.”
“Margaritas, anyone?” asked Sherry.
“Exactly what I need,” said Celeste. “I’d give a left kidney to have you come and live with us.” She laughed after every other sentence.
Saphora followed Gwennie back into the kitchen. Gwennie leaned on the marble countertop, seething.
“She’s not really said anything all that bad, Gwennie,” said Saphora.
“I know. It’s everything about her that makes me want to gag her. Her nasal voice. That laugh of hers is driving me nuts. The way she says, ‘Ramsey! Ramsey!’ as if he lives to do her bidding. I can’t stand to see him in Celeste’s jail.”
“If you don’t let it go, you’ll say something you’ll regret,” said Saphora. But she had to admit that Celeste wore her down to a nub.
“I got three orders for margaritas,” said Sherry, running back into the kitchen to fill her tray again. “Any more takers?”
“Not for me,” said Saphora.
“I’ll take one plus hers,” said Gwennie.
Knowing that Emerald was coming in on top of a houseful of family members set a different tone in the house. The guys gossiped around the breakfast table the next morning.
They were all going out in the boat for the three-hour tour, much to everyone’s great relief.<
br />
Eddie was driving them crazy. “When are we leaving for the boat?” He said it for the twentieth time, Saphora was sure.
“When will you all get back?” Gwennie wanted to know. “Over three hours in the car with Aunt Em is my badge for the weekend. The rest of you sailor boys have to take a turn too.”
“She’s not that bad,” said Ramsey.
“Just melancholy, Gwen,” said Bender. He had once been Emerald’s worst antagonizer.
“Do I know her?” asked Liam. Being Ramsey’s oldest made him the most inquisitive.
“You’ll be back before us, Gwennie,” said Saphora. “Tell her she can rest in my room until we’re back at the dock. But tonight we’ll have to put her up in one of the B and Bs. There’s Ida’s B and B right across the road.”
“What’s wrong with Aunt Emerald?” asked Liam, shouting above the adults.
“One brick shy of a load,” said Turner.
Celeste tried to redirect Liam’s attention. “Have another bowl of cereal.”
“She’s odd, like those women you see sitting in remote coffee shops crocheting and talking about their lap dogs with other women who sit crocheting and talking about their lap dogs,” said Turner.
“I have a lap dog,” said Celeste. “I’m not crazy.” She laughed.
“Aunt Emerald’s crazy?” asked Liam.
“I didn’t say that. Don’t repeat me, Liam,” said Celeste. “Go wash out your bowl.”
“I’m still hungry. If Aunt Emerald’s crazy, why do they let her out?” asked Liam.
“Not that kind of crazy, you dope!” said Eddie.
“Quirky, Liam. Forget about it,” said Celeste.
By now Eddie was fully awake and tired of picking at his orange slices. “I like Great-Aunt Emerald. She’s fun.”
“There you go,” said Saphora. “Emerald is fun, Liam. Now stop talking about her.”
The Pirate Queen Page 13
