by M T Stone
“I understand, Mom.” I give her a smirk and let it go.
As we both eat our sandwiches in silence, Tyler suddenly lets out a very definite moan. We both glance at each other and spring from our chairs simultaneously. His eyes are still closed but there is definite movement in his right hand.
Mom immediately reaches for it. “Tyler are you there?”
He lets out another audible moan and squeezes her hand just slightly, before silence once again fills the room. “I’m sure that’s a good sign,” I assure her as she kisses his hand and stares down at him intently.
“It’s a great sign!” she replies with tears forming around the edges of her eyes. “Did you see him squeeze my hand?”
“I did. He was trying to open his eyes, too.” I reach up and rub my fingertips along his forehead. “His eyelids were fluttering.”
“He’s going to make it.” She smiles, continuing to squeeze his hand tightly.
Mandy
After dreaming for what seemed to be hours, I finally regain full consciousness. The first thing I notice is that something hard and uncomfortable is beneath me. I roll onto my side and reach back to find my phone. I roll onto my back again and try to stretch the resulting kink out of my spine.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and click the power button. Holy crap, it is 9:49. I can’t believe I slept so late. I notice that it’s Friday once again, the end of another whirlwind week. I struggle to sit up and rub my face with both hands in an effort to wake up. I’m a bit surprised that I haven’t heard from Trey, but I suppose he didn’t want to risk waking me. The house is completely silent except for the creek of old floor boards beneath my feet. I peer around the corner as I creep out into the hallway, but everything is silent. I pass through the kitchen and walk to Mom’s bedroom, but no one is around. Maybe Mom had a doctor appointment or something.
I creep over to the corner of their bedroom, to Dad’s old roll top desk and push the tambour back, revealing an assortment of paperwork. I open a small wooden drawer on the right side to find his checkbook. I open another drawer that looks like it must be unpaid bills. Next, I move to the large bottom drawer that is filled with file folders. I immediately move to a thick, unmarked one in the back that catches my eye. Men are so predictable, I think as I pull the folder out and onto my lap. I find it funny that he set up a separate post office box in town to receive her letters and then he stores them in such an obvious spot. Its no wonder Mom knew everything about his affair.
My heart saddens for her as I begin to look through the cards and letters from Silvia that Dad has received over the years. It appears that the correspondence stopped for several years but then started again soon after Silvia’s divorce. She clearly states in one of the letters that she keeps a man named Charles around for company, but it is completely platonic and they sleep in separate bedrooms.
At the end of each letter she tells him how much she loves him and wishes my mother well. These two have such a conflicted relationship. I select three random letters from the beginning, middle and end of the file. That was easy. I pull a large manila envelope from the adjacent drawer and slip the letters inside. Picking up my phone, I send Trey a text to let him know I have the letters and ask him for Jürgen’s address.
I saunter to the kitchen and begin pouring myself a cup of coffee, when my phone rings. Looking at the screen, I see that its Dad calling. “You guys deserted me,” I tease him upon answering.
“Honey, you better come down to the hospital,” his voice cracks as he speaks. “Your mother isn’t doing so well.”
“Oh my God, is she okay?” I ask feeling caught completely off guard.
“No. You should come see her right away.” He pauses as if he’s thinking. “Take your mother’s convertible, it’s in the shed.”
“Okay, I’ll get dressed and be right there.” I race to my bedroom, throwing the envelope filled with letters on the bed and go into my closet to grab some of my old favorite clothes. I can’t believe this is happening!
I feel completely numb as I open the doors to the shed and get into the front seat of her old beloved convertible. It occurs to me that in the end, nothing really matters. The disagreements, the hurt feelings or the little dent my sister put in the front fender. Crap, I need to call her. I scroll through my contacts and dial her.
“I just got off the phone with Dad,” Darla says, without even saying hello.
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure you knew,” I reply, trying to be strong. “We had a really good talk last night.”
“That’s good. Mom and I had our talk about a month ago when the kids and I were home.” She pauses as if she’s in the middle of doing something. “I’m just packing the boys and then we are on our way. We should be there in about an hour.”
“Okay, drive safe,” I tell her, knowing her track record. “See you at the hospital.”
“Bye.” She says before the line goes dead and thoughts begin to clutter my mind once again. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so glad I came home yesterday. I never would’ve forgiven myself if I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her one last time. I screech to a halt in an open parking spot and run into the hospital.
“Maggie Greyson,” I tell the receptionist, nearly breathless.
“Room eleven, at the end of the hall,” she informs me with a compassionate look in her eyes. I’m sure she sees more than her share of pain sitting in that chair.
“Is she awake?” I ask Dad after meeting him in the doorway.
“Yes, she wants to see you.” Tears burst from my eyes immediately upon seeing her in the hospital bed. She looks so tired and weak.
“It’s okay sweetie,” she whispers, closing her eyes as if to fight back her own tears. “I’m sorry we won’t make it to the creek.”
My body shakes violently as I begin to break down. Even though she wasn’t the most loving mother in the world, we really did have a lot of good times out there. “It’s okay, I just wanted to spend one more afternoon out there with you,” I manage to whisper back to her.
“We have lots of good memories,” she says with tears rolling down her cheek. “I want you to spread my ashes under that big oak tree.”
“I will, Mom” I promise, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
She gives me what is possibly the most loving look I have ever seen in those eyes and then closes them. I squeeze her hand in mine, knowing exactly what is about to happen “Aren’t you going to say anything?” I turn to Dad, trying to avoid a complete meltdown.
“We said our goodbyes earlier, while we were waiting for you to get here,” he says with compassion filling his eyes. “It’s all good. She’s been suffering for a long time.”
Dad and I sit next to her bed and make small talk while watching Mom and listening to the beeps of the monitors. After nearly forty minutes Darla comes bursting through the door. “How is she?” she asks with a distressed look on her face.
“She’s still breathing on her own,” Dad replies. “You sit down here, I’ll go watch the kids for you. I think they are a little young for this.”
Darla takes her hand and says, “Mom, can you hear me?”
Her eyelids flicker, but there is no immediate response. Darla smiles at her sadly and sits down in the chair next to me. “You are lucky you got to see her,” Darla whispers. “She was really bad last weekend.”
“Yeah, something was telling me that I had to come home,” I tell her, thinking back to the gnawing feeling I had in my stomach.
We both sit quietly for several minutes before she begins to stir. Darla jumps to her side and I join her as she opens her eyes and takes one last deep breath. This time when she closes them, the air slowly escapes from her lungs and we both begin to realize that she is gone. “Goodbye, Mom. I love you,” I whisper through a flood of tears.
Trey
After meeting with Perry for nearly an hour, I was once again becoming comfortable with all of the accusations that were flying around me. I click o
n the text message that Mandy sent regarding the letters and give Perry a smile. “I think everything is going to work out,” I tell him.
“If there is no money trail for them to follow, then I guarantee they are simply blowing hot air,” he says. “They’re just rattling your cage, to see how you react.”
“Well, I’m sure there is a money trail, but it doesn’t lead to me. I don’t know why I let these guys get to me.” I shake my head in disgust. “There is just so much shit going on.”
“Don’t worry, son,” he says, slapping his oversized hand across my back. “My fees are high for a reason. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“The officer last night told me not to leave town,” I add, before leaving his office.
“Again, its just bullshit to ruffle your feathers. Unless they issue an arrest warrant, you are free to do as you please,” he assures me, leading me to the door. “Sorry to rush you out, but I’m due in court in thirty minutes.”
I force out a breath and let go of all my pent up anxiety as I leave his office and make my way to the elevator. I copy and paste Jürgen’s office address into a message for Mandy. I instruct her to make sure it is designated for overnight Saturday delivery. Within seconds my phone rings and it’s her.
“Hi, baby! That was quick,” I answer, feeling good for the moment. Unfortunately, all I hear at the other end is Mandy all choked up and struggling to get her words out. I brace myself for more bad news.
“Mom just died,” she finally utters between violent sobs. “I don’t know why I’m such a mess. I knew this was coming.” She pulls the phone from her face and blows her nose. “Last night it felt like I finally bonded with her.”
“I’m sorry, Mandy,” I reply in disbelief. “I’m really glad you two had some time together and got to have one last good conversation.” I tell her, thinking back to the last call from Dad that went unreturned.
“Me too. I still can’t believe she knew about Dad’s affair for all those years and was okay with it,” she says reflectively. “I could never do that.”
“Did she give you those letters?” I ask, immediately realizing that I am being insensitive and self-centered.
“No.” She pauses. “But the house was empty when I got up this morning, so I just snooped through Dad’s desk. They were in a thick, unmarked folder in the back of the file drawer.” She actually giggles through her tears.
“At least something was easy in this whole mess,” I reply with a sigh. “Mom’s were still at the bottom of her cedar chest. If you send those to Jürgen, I’ll send the ones I have too.”
“I’ll get them sent today,” she says. “I just have to drive by the house and pick them up.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Especially with all you have going on today. I just want to put that payment to Jake behind me.” I blow out another blast of anxiety-filled air. “Other than that, my attorney doesn’t see any issues.”
“Well, yeah. As long as you didn’t commit any other crimes, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, right?” she replies with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“I know, but with everyone accusing me of things and making up their own versions of the story, it gets a little unnerving,” I try to explain. “I still haven’t gone online or even on Facebook.”
“You have better things to focus on anyway,” she says, verbalizing the obvious. “How is Tyler doing?”
“He groaned and moved his hand a little this morning. I think he’s starting to come out of it.” I look up at the sky and silently pray that he will make it. “He will be able to set the record straight on what happened to him.”
“Hopefully he will remember,” she replies, sending a chill down my spine.
“I never thought of that. Yeah, I sure hope he remembers what went on.” I slip into the back of the limo to head back to the hospital. “I’m going to check on him now and then I’ll hop a jet for Tullahoma.”
“That would be sweet of you,” she replies in an appreciative tone. “My sister comes in this afternoon and the rest of her family lives right around here.”
“When is the funeral?” I ask, figuring it would be at least a couple of days.
“She didn’t want one,” she says, sounding a little disappointed. “She just wants us to get together at our favorite spot, say a few words and spread her ashes.”
“That sounds kind of nice, actually. I’m definitely not a fan of traditional funerals.” I think back to the mixed feelings I had on the day of Dad’s funeral. “I’ll let you know when I’m in the air.”
“Okay. Thank you, sweetie,” she says before hanging up.
I haven’t been called sweetie in a long time. Mom used to say that when we were little boys. What are the odds that we would both lose a parent at such a young age, both in their mid-fifties. My thoughts turn to Dad and how he completely obliterated Ray’s family business. I get a nervous feeling when I think about meeting him later today. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
CHAPTER 10
T rey
When I step off the plane in Tennessee, I’m greeted by Mandy idling in a beautiful black Mustang convertible. Approaching the car, she looks like a different girl with her aviator shades, a white blouse and distressed jeans. A warm feeling passes through me the instant I see her beautiful face. She flashes me a subtle smile in spite of the sadness that has filled the day.
“Hey big guy… need a ride?” she asks as I toss my bag in the back.
“You look amazing and where did you get this sweet ride? I’ve always loved these old Mustangs. Is this a sixty five?” I ask, amazed by the nearly perfect condition of such an old car.
“This was Mom’s first baby.” She smiles reflectively, running her hand along the steering wheel. “It’s a sixty five K code.”
“K code?” I ask, unfamiliar with the term.
“It’s got the high performance two eighty nine. America’s original muscle car,” she says with a glimmer in her eyes. “Sit down and hang on!”
She drops the clutch the instant my door closes and burns through the first three gears, leaving a haze of burnt rubber lingering behind us. “Holy shit, woman!”
“Mom taught me how to drive.” She laughs. “Not many kids learn on a four speed, stick shift.”
“No shit! I didn’t drive a stick shift until I was out of college,” I reply, still feeling a bit stunned. Mandy on the other hand looks completely at ease with her hair blowing in the wind, as we fly down the highway toward Lynchburg. “The countryside out here is gorgeous.”
“Yeah, it is.” She glances around at our lush green surroundings. “You’ll love the place where we are holding the service for Mom.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” I tell her, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you made it home in time to see her.”
“She knew she was dying and had been waiting to see me.” A sad look washes across her face. “She was so nice to me last night and we talked about things that had been kept secret for my entire life. She even told me that she loved me.” In spite of the sunglasses, I can see tears instantly appear in the corner of her eyes.
“That’s good.” I caress the back of her neck, not really knowing what else to say.
“You don’t understand how big that was. She hadn’t said that to me since I was a little girl.” She looks at me in disbelief as a tear rolls down her cheek.
“My dad was the same way. I maybe remember him saying it two or three times, but I always knew he cared about us,” I reply, thinking back on my own experiences. “Even though he normally showed it by being a total hard ass.” I flash her a half-hearted smile.
“Mom wasn’t that way, she always just seemed indifferent. Even when I would give her a hug, she never really hugged me back. She would just kind of stand there like she was waiting for it to end,” she explains as we reach the Lynchburg city limits.
“I got a room at some bed and breakfast,” I tell her, pulling up my phone to rec
all the name of the place.
“You can stay with us.” She shoots me a look of disapproval. “We have plenty of room.”
“I thought it might be a little awkward with your dad,” I confess.
“If he’s uncomfortable, that’s his fault, not yours,” she says with a brief burst of feistiness.
“Well, let’s stop and check me in and we can decide later on.” I add, since I was actually thinking that it would be uncomfortable for me. I wasn’t really concerned about his discomfort. “Oh, did you get those letters sent?” I say, changing the subject.
“I stopped at FedEx on my way to the airport.” She reassures me with a wink.
“Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.” I reach over and place my hand on hers.
As we come to an older, stately neighborhood lined with big old houses with those magnificent southern porches, I can tell we must be getting close to our destination. We swing up in front of a big, white one with four big columns on the front porch and two more on the right side. Mandy slams on the brakes, skidding up to the curb, nearly throwing me out of my seat. “This baby still stops as good as it takes off!” she says before opening her door and hopping out.
After walking across the well-worn floorboards of the porch, the creaking of the screen door announces our arrival. A gray-haired woman with a tight bun and thick black-framed glasses comes out to greet us. “Hello, I’m Peggy,” she says, reaching out to shake my hand.
“Hi Peggy, I’m Trey and this is Mandy,” I reply giving her a smile. “Is this your place?”
“It is,” she replies in a chipper voice. “After the kids were grown up and my husband passed, I needed to fill this house back up,” she explains as she leads us up a grand old staircase and down the hallway to a large bedroom. Like most homes that were built more than a century ago, there are plenty of creaks that go along with all the unique, intricate woodwork and beautiful hardwood floors.
“This place is beautiful,” Mandy comments, ignoring all the creaks and groans.
