by Mille West
At a quarter to seven, Mills walked to Cooper’s to ride with him to Williston’s home. The evening was warm and she wore a pair of navy shorts and a linen blouse. Cooper had just come out of the shower and his hair was damp. Mills could not help but notice how handsome he was in khaki shorts and a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Cooper carried a bottle of wine from the house and as he opened her car door, he said, “You and I are in for a treat. Williston is a fabulous cook.”
The delicious aromas of tomatoes and garlic filled the air when Williston invited them into her home. Cooper handed her the chilled bottle of wine and said, “Our contribution to dinner.”
She opened the wine and poured each of them a glass. “About ten more minutes on the fish and then we’ll be ready to eat.”
When the dish was served, the baked fish was succulent in a tomato sauce with garlic, capers, and peppers. “This is delicious,” Mills told Williston after her first bite.
As they dined, Williston mentioned that a blood drive would be held at her clinic the following week. “I hope you two can come out and donate blood again.”
“I can come—what about you, Mills?”
“Yes, I’ll come too.”
“Mills, did you get a card in the mail from the Red Cross identifying your blood type?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am O positive.”
“How about that? You two have the same blood type. While an individual with an O positive blood type can donate to people with other blood types, you can only receive blood from another O donor. Doesn’t seem fair does it?”
“No, ma’am,” Cooper replied.
Mills remembered about the phone call from Lucille Simmons. “Cooper, I forgot to tell you: a lady from Colleton County called about the Heath scholarship program and would like to make an appointment with you about her son.”
“You can make the appointment for next Wednesday after we give blood.” After dinner, the trio talked for over an hour before they thanked Williston for the wonderful meal and told her good night. Mills was the first into the foyer and she noticed photos of Williston’s family. There were pictures of a young Williston with an olive-skinned man on a fishing excursion. On the way home, Mills asked, “Cooper, I saw photos of a man with Williston. Was that her husband?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
“When we get home, come up on the porch, and I’ll tell you.”
They arrived at Cooper’s home and went to the front porch. They sat down in rocking chairs and he began to explain, “Williston’s husband, Alan, was from Martinique and his parents owned a resort on the island. His father was French and Portuguese, and his mother was of West Indian descent. Alan and Williston met while they were at Princeton. When they finished school, they both took jobs in Charleston, Alan at the Medical University and Williston at Roper Hospital. He was chosen to attend a doctors’ conference at Duke University, due to his contributions to research in the field of oncology. On his return trip to Charleston, a truck ran a stop sign and hit him on the driver’s side of the vehicle. While he was waiting for an ambulance, a passerby robbed him of his wallet, watch, and wedding band. He was hemorrhaging from a severe laceration and could have been saved if the bleeding had been controlled, but this individual chose to steal from him instead. He died on the way to the hospital.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Obscenely so. When Alan passed away, their children were ages three and one. Williston raised them by herself, and I think I told you that Julia had met her at the emergency room at Roper Hospital when I broke my arm. Julia liked her so much that she backed her practice at Alston Station and the clinic was started. Williston’s daughters have followed in their parents’ footsteps, and both are in medical residency.”
Mills sat silently in her rocking chair, stunned by what Cooper had shared with her before saying, “I hope you haven’t been having any more nightmares.”
“Not since the weekend of my birthday.”
They rocked slightly in their chairs before Cooper said, “You told me that you had nightmares. Do you want to discuss them with me?”
She was quiet for a moment. “They’re about my father and the day he died.”
“Please tell me about them.”
“In my dreams, snow is falling, and I’m excited because I associate it with having fun—sledding and snowball fights. In the middle of a snowball fight, an ambulance arrives with flashing red lights. The driver tells Vivien and me that he’s come for our father. When we go inside, my father is on the floor and my mother is holding his hand. She doesn’t want to let go. I shake my father telling him to get up, but he doesn’t. His body is getting colder as I touch him. Then the ambulance takes him away, and I stand frozen in place looking at the red lights—and I hear that sound.”
“What sound?”
“The sound of the siren from the ambulance.” I must have heard that dreadful noise ten times a day in New York. “Then, I wake up.”
“Did it snow the day your father died?”
“Yes, the most beautiful, fluffy snow you’ve ever seen.”
“I’m sorry, Mills. How old were you?”
“I was ten and Vivien was twelve.”
“That’s a terrible age to lose a parent.”
Mills felt tears start to well in her eyes and she wiped them with her fingertips. “After he was dressed in his best suit for burial, I went to the attic and searched for a tiny angel that I placed on the Christmas tree each year. She had golden hair, blue eyes, and ruby-colored lips. I put her in my father’s suit pocket, and she was buried with him.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks and Cooper took her hand in his.
“I’m sorry, Mills,” he said, as he wiped her tears with his handkerchief.
CHAPTER 15
Gesture of Kindness
J ust after noon on Saturday, Mills was at the stables with Cooper and his neighbors when Dr. Susan Mitchell from the Charleston Children’s Hospital arrived at the Heath farm. Cooper introduced Mills to the doctor, who appeared to be in her late thirties and had sandy-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was almost as tall as Cooper and, wearing blue jeans and a barn jacket, she looked at home on the farm.
“Mr. Heath, I hope you don’t mind, but I contacted the newsroom at Channel Two and the Metro editor at the Charleston Dispatch about today’s event. We need media exposure to report the plight these children and their parents face every day.”
“That’s fine, doctor. I understand that from my work on a scholarship program that my mother founded.”
Two vans approached the stables and, when they parked, the drivers helped the children and their parents from the vehicles. A number of children were bald; they had lost their hair from medical treatments. Cooper and his neighbors passed out cowboy hats to all the children, and they took turns riding the horses. Their laughter is a pleasure to listen to.
Dr. Mitchell stood beside Mills and said, “Last year was the first time that I helped with this event and it was held at the Caldwell’s farm. I met Mr. Heath’s wife there.”
She was silent as she watched the children, and t
hen she volunteered, “It’s a shame about her disappearance. But there’s always hope.”
Representatives from the newspaper and television station arrived and Mills recognized Lee Mencken from the Charleston Dispatch. Dressed in his signature navy suit and a red bow tie, he approached Cooper to shake his hand.
“Mr. Heath, I hope you are well today. I’m here to report on the children’s event.”
“Thank you, Lee,” Cooper responded.
The reporter recognized Mills, saying, “Miss Taylor, nice to see you again.”
“Mr. Mencken—you, as well.”
“Call me Lee, please.”
He smiled as he shook Mills’s hand and then joined Dr. Mitchell who stood nearby.
A little girl sat on Ginger’s back, the same horse that Mills had ridden, and she was in tears. Her mother took the child off the horse’s back and attempted to calm her. Cooper joined the pair and crouched down on one knee speaking to the girl. Mills could not hear what he said, but after a few minutes, the girl was willing to try again. Cooper placed her back on Ginger and held the reins as he led the horse around.
Mills stepped closer. She heard the mother say, “Thank you, Mr. Heath. I think Amy was nervous—you’re very kind.”
There’s no way this man hurt his wife.
After the children were served refreshments, they got back in the vans for the return trip to Charleston. Mills noticed that one of the horses that Mr. Caldwell had brought to the event was not loaded up.
“Cooper, why is Mr. Caldwell leaving a horse behind?”
“You said that Vivien would like to explore while she’s here, so I thought she might like to ride horses with us.”
“Thank you, I know she’ll be thrilled!”
When everyone had departed the Heath farm, Mills joined Cooper in his kitchen to make Marian’s crab casserole to take to the opening of the Freedom School Community Center. He instructed her on the mixing of the ingredients.
While the casserole baked in the oven, they went onto the porch to talk. “Dr. Warren and I are going to visit the homes of students who want to participate in the scholarship program next week.”
“Good, you’ll have to let me know how it goes.”
“I will.”
Mills rocked back and forth slowly in the rocker. Her head rested against the back of the chair. I am so relaxed—I could just stay here for the rest of the day.
When the casserole was ready, Cooper removed the dish from the oven and the aroma of fresh-baked crab filled the room. They both took a small sample. It was delicious.
“Mills, would you like to join me for dinner?”
“I would like to, but I told Jeff that I would attend a party he’s having at his house in Charleston.”
A frown crossed Cooper’s brow. “If you don’t feel like driving back to the country tonight, you can stay in my townhouse. Just a minute.”
He excused himself briefly and returned with the keys to his home and placed them in her hand. “Please be careful.”
“I will. Thank you.”
When she arrived at Jeff’s townhouse, a couple answered the door, invited her inside, and introduced themselves. “I’d like to let Jeff know I’m here,” Mills told them.
“He’s in the courtyard.” The man pointed to a French door across the room.
Mills walked to the door and looked out into a courtyard behind the townhome. Jeff was speaking on the phone, and a black Labrador was at his side. Opening the door, she went outside. Mills could hear Jeff in a heated discussion. As she approached, he said to the person on the line, “Okay, if you want to sue me, go right ahead and do it. I don’t give a damn.”
With that, Jeff hung up the phone and threw a cigarette to the ground, squashing it out with his shoe. He stood silently for a moment before he turned to join his guests. As soon as he saw Mills in front of him, his worried countenance transformed into a smile.
“I hope you didn’t hear too much of that conversation. The worst part of the real estate business is dealing with unreasonable people—please forgive me. Can I get you something to drink?”
“White wine?”
“Come into my kitchen, young lady,” he said, giving her a hug and a kiss. The black Lab rubbed against Jeff’s legs. “Mills, this is Brutus. He’s a champ in the dove field.”
The dog followed them into the home and Jeff poured Mills a glass of wine. The kitchen was becoming crowded with guests. “Always seems like parties take place in the kitchen,” Jeff said to Mills.
Madge and Cassie arrived, and Jeff excused himself from Mills to greet them. Music by The Who was playing at an almost unbearable volume on the stereo.
When Jeff rejoined her, he told her to make herself at home, and he continued to mingle with his other guests. Mills walked outside into his courtyard and a man followed her to where she sat. After a few moments of conversation, he stunned her by saying, “I believe you’d be great in bed—want to go upstairs and lock ourselves in a bedroom?”
“No—excuse me,” she said, returning to the kitchen.
The party in the kitchen had also become racy. One of the women, who had arrived with Cassie and Madge, removed her top and was shaking her 44DDs, as she called them, in other peoples’ faces. Oh my God!
Madge moved next to Mills and stared at the topless woman before commenting, “Naomi Peppers. Now I know how she gets so many real estate listings. What a sauce box.”
Mills looked around the room for Jeff, but he was not in sight, and like Cooper, she determined that Jeff’s crowd was too fast-paced for her. Putting on her coat, she exited onto the cobblestone street and walked to Washington Square. The obelisk monument in the park was illuminated in the moonlight, and she took deep breaths as she circled the memorial. I should have known better than to come here. I want to go home.
On the drive back to the Heath farm, Mills listened to a soothing recording of Ella Fitzgerald’s music. She couldn’t help but think what a nice evening she would have had if she had stayed at home to dine with Cooper. When she parked the car near her cottage, someone stepped out of the shadows in front of her. She nearly screamed, but recognizing the man, she gasped, “Cooper, you–you frightened me.”
“I’m sorry, Mills. I saw the car’s lights and I wasn’t expecting anyone. I thought you were going to stay at my townhouse.”
“I was very uncomfortable at Jeff’s party and I wanted to come home.”
“Did something happen?”
“I was propositioned by a man that I had met ten minutes before, and one woman proudly showed the way she was endowed—without her top . . . I should have known I didn’t fit in with Jeff and his friends.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I went sailing one afternoon in Charleston Harbor with Jeff and two of his friends. They were inhaling lines of coke on the boat.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”
“He’s your cousin. I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Never mind if he’s my cousin.”
When she gazed up at Cooper, she could see h
is face in the landscape lighting. His expression was one of anger mixed with disgust. “I don’t want you placed in a position like that, ever again.”
As he walked her to her cottage, Mills confessed, “I wish I had stayed here and had dinner with you.”
She placed the keys to his townhouse in his hand and he responded, “There will be plenty of occasions for us to dine together. I’ll give you a ride tomorrow to the opening of the Freedom School.”
The Freedom School gleamed with the freshness of renewed youth. A large number of volunteers had assembled to celebrate the restoration of the school and the dedication of the building as a new community center for young people. Mills placed the crab casserole on a picnic table that was already filled with a variety of dishes. A bluegrass band tuned their instruments and the first person who Mills spoke to was Eula Mullinax. She was with her children and she approached Mills and smiled brightly. Her teeth had been repaired and she beamed with new confidence.
“Miss Taylor, I’m so glad to see you today.” She paused as she smiled again. “Reverend Smalls’s son-in-law is a dentist, and he fixed my teeth. He said I could pay him something when I got my education completed and started work. Reverend Smalls says this is an investment in my future.”
“What job are you training for?”
“I’m going to be a nurse’s assistant. Maybe I can save up enough money to put myself through college and be a registered nurse one day. With Mr. Heath’s help, I have a new life, me and my children—I have hope. Thank you for what you, Dr. Will, and Mr. Heath did for me the last time Lee Roy was at home. I pray he doesn’t come back.”
“If he returns, don’t let him inside, and call the police—and Eula, when you’re ready to begin studying for your nursing degree, don’t forget there are scholarships available. I know someone who likes to help people achieve their educational goals.”
