by Arlene James
“It’s almost certainly her heart.”
“I thought that might be it when you asked for the aspirin.”
“I have to warn you that the family is going to be descending. Chester will have already called her brothers, and they’ll be alerting the others.”
Eva nodded. “How many are there?”
Brooks blew out a breath. “Lots. The thing is, normally Chester and Hilda would take care of everything, but they love Hypatia as much as the rest of us, and I’m afraid Hilda won’t bear up very well. Her sister Carol, the maid, will try to take up the slack, but it could get crazy around here. You may just want to hide out in your room.”
Eva lifted her eyebrows. She hadn’t even known there was a maid, and she wasn’t the hiding sort. Well, not really.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Just take care of Silk-and-Pearls.”
He smiled, despite the worry in his golden eyes, and started for the stairs. “I’d better get going. I want to see her again before they put her on the helicopter.”
She kept pace with him as he headed down the stairs. “Helicopter?”
“It’s standing by to airlift her into Dallas. Standard procedure for serious heart cases.”
“I see.”
“Tell the family I’ll call as soon as I know anything,” he said when they reached the bottom step, “but warn them that it could be hours.”
“Will do.”
They crossed the foyer to the front door, which he pulled open, then he paused with the blustery January breeze whipping into the house. The ambulance pulled away, its tires crunching in the deep gravel of the long looping drive. Chester had brought the town car around and was dropping down behind the wheel. Presumably Odelia and Kent sat in the back. As the car started up and drove off after the ambulance, Brooks paused and turned an agonized face to Eva.
“I love that old woman,” he said softly, urgently. “I don’t want to lose her.” He closed his glistening eyes. “Please, God,” he whispered. “We still need her.” Then he sucked in a deep breath and strode purposefully through the door, pulling it closed behind him.
Eva laid her palm against it, wishing she could comfort him and everyone else who cared about Hypatia Chatam. She hated to think how he, how they all, would suffer if Hypatia died. Who, Eva wondered, would grieve her when she died? It seemed kindest, easiest, just to disappear to spare her son the angst and pain of watching her suffer, but to be unmourned...
She pushed the thought away. What mattered now was the Chatams. She just didn’t realize then how vast the Chatam family was or how many people truly cared about Hypatia. She began to get a clue when the phone began to ring...and ring and ring and ring...
After countless calls, she got a question she couldn’t answer from someone named Petra. She promised to have Hilda call straight away, hung up and went in search of the cook, only to find the poor woman in the kitchen, sobbing hysterically into her apron. After wrapping her arms around Hilda, Eva calmed the rotund woman as best she could, relating how Hypatia had smiled, squeezed her hand and given her a thumbs-up while waiting for the ambulance. Sniffing hopefully, her round face tear-ravaged, Hilda looked up at that.
“She was conscious, then?”
“Oh, yes. The whole time.”
Hilda pulled in a shuddering breath. “Well, that’s something.”
“Yes, it’s very good, and with the doc here in the house, her timing couldn’t have been better. Right?”
Hilda straightened. “That’s true.” She pressed her hands together. “I should’ve seen it. God be praised! He had it all in place from the beginning.” She let out a sigh of relief, closed her eyes and said, “Thank You, Jesus.”
Eva drew back. “Uh, someone named Petra called to ask if anyone had reached the twins.”
Hilda hopped to her feet in a jiggle of abundant flesh. “Oh, my! They’ll all be coming. The whole lot! Where will we put them all?” She waddled to the cabinet and took a notebook and pencil from a drawer, returning quickly to the table. “All seven from California will have to stay here,” she said, jotting down names. “And there’ll be three—no! Four—from Stephenville. Oh, the baby’s newborn, not a week old, but Chandler won’t stay away, and he won’t leave them behind, I just know it! The twins can have the East Suite, and we’ll put Chandler, Bethany, Matthew and the baby in the Small Suite. The cradle will need to be moved into the bedroom there. It’ll be crowded, but it’s the best solution with Hypatia gone to...” She bit her suddenly quivering lip and bent over the notebook, scribbling away.
“Just tell me where to find the cradle,” Eva offered bravely. “I’m a cradle grabber from way back, which is not to be confused with a cradle robber.”
That got her a wan smile, at least. After a bit of sniffing, Hilda spoke again. “Dorinda, Tony, Melinda, JW and Johnny can stay in the Master Suite, and we’ll have an extra bedroom there if it’s needed, but I expect Murdock and Maryanne will want to stay with Asher, anyway. They have since Mary Ella was born.” She added wryly, “They’d cram in with Phillip and his wild bunch but with Carissa expecting their fourth, that house is bursting at the seams.”
“These Chatams are a lusty lot,” Eva observed.
“They’re the salt of the earth!” Hilda retorted defensively, “every one of them, and they deserve all the happiness this world has to offer, Hypatia especially. She deserves to get to see her great nieces and nephews be born. She...”
Eva slid an arm around Hilda’s round shoulders, saying gently, “Tell me how I can help.”
Chapter Seven
Hilda sent Eva to haul two enormous hams and a large beef roast from the freezer, all of which had been frozen cooked. If she was correct, the entire family, at least thirty individuals, would soon be descending upon them, so they had no time to lose.
Chester returned from the hospital, saying that Kent had dropped him off and kept the car. He fetched the cradle from the attic, and came back downstairs in time to let in a lovely young woman who introduced herself to Eva as Jessa Lynn Willows. She brought her own apron and immediately pitched in with the food preparation, saying, “Garrett and the kids will be over after they close the shops.” Hilda chuckled about Garrett managing a plant nursery, floral shop and a baby on his own, but Jessa said that he was better at it than she was and that Hunter, who was ten and could close up either shop on his own, would be able to help his dad after school.
The previously unseen Carol, Hilda’s sister and the maid, came in to say that all the beds had clean sheets on them and the laundry was underway. She, too, put on an apron and went to work. Her red-rimmed eyes told Eva that she had been weeping in private, but she was as quiet and unobtrusive as a mouse. Eva didn’t have the heart to tease her. When Jessa asked what Eva’s connection was to the family, she replied that she was working for Dr. Leland and temporarily staying at Chatam House. Jessa patted her shoulder.
“Been here, done that,” she said, smiling. “How I met my husband. Garrett was the gardener here.”
“Oh?”
“Mmm-hmm. The Chatam sisters have been like family to us. Technically they are family. My sister-in-law is married to Chandler Chatam, one of the nephews.”
“Oh.”
Soon the Petra from the telephone showed up, blonde and pretty, with her husband, Dale. Both wore jeans and work shirts along with worried expressions. “Any news?”
Before Chester could reply in the negative, the phone rang, and he left with Petra to answer it. Morgan, Lyla and Bri arrived, followed at once by Morgan’s sister Kaylie and their elderly father, Hubner, older brother of the Chatam sisters. Kaylie’s husband, Stephen, had stayed at home with their newborn son, Stephen Chatam Gallow, dubbed “Chat” by the family. Hubner reported that his eldest son, Bayard, and his daughter-in-law Chloe were at the hospital in Dallas, where t
hey lived, with Magnolia, Odelia and Kent. Bayard’s daughters, Julia and Carolyn, would be splitting their time between their Dallas homes and Buffalo Creek.
Asher and Phillip, Petra’s brothers, arrived with their wives, Ellie and Carissa, respectively. Ellie, who turned out to be Kent’s granddaughter, had in tow her and Asher’s toddler, Marie Ella. Carissa reported that her “crew” were in school until 3:00 p.m. Between the news and trying to keep all of the Chatams straight, Eva’s head was swimming. Hilda banished them all from the kitchen to the family parlor, which is where Chester and Petra delivered the news that Hypatia had, indeed, suffered a major heart attack and was currently undergoing tests.
When Eva and Chester rolled a pair of tea trolleys into the room twenty minutes later, they were every one on their knees. Chester stopped just inside the door and bowed his head, but Eva stared until Hubner Chatam rose on the arm of his son, Morgan, to sink onto a comfortable armchair. This family prayed more than any she’d ever seen, but Eva couldn’t deny that a sense of peace now permeated the room.
When she returned to the kitchen, she found Hilda, Jessa and Carol in fevered discussion about lunch and dinner menus.
Jessa shook her head. “You’ll kill yourself trying to cook three meals a day for the entire family, Hilda.”
“Needs must,” Hilda insisted dismissively.
“Or,” Eva ventured, “you could lay out a substantial buffet in the dining room and just keep it replenished with whatever you have on hand. Start with lunch, and after that, people can eat whenever they’re hungry. You wouldn’t have to worry about menus.”
Hilda stared at her like she’d grown an extra eye, but Carol and Jenna smiled.
“I’ll get the chafing dishes,” Carol announced decisively.
Hilda parked her hands in the general vicinity of her hips and turned a circle, as if taking stock of her kitchen. “That might work,” she finally allowed.
“The ham’s starting to smell good,” Eva said, aware suddenly that she’d missed breakfast. “Don’t suppose you have any of those scrumptious muffins around, do you?”
Hilda beamed and went for the basket.
Family members and friends, many from the church, including the pastor, came and went during that busy morning. When the buffet was finally laid out in the dining room, Eva walked toward the family parlor to let everyone know. Before she reached that room, however, she saw through the window in the back door that her van was arriving. It stopped beneath what the family called the “porte cochere” at the side of the house. Stunned, she ran down the hall and threw open the door, watching as Brooks slid from the driver’s seat, jogged around the front of the vehicle, climbed the few brick steps and came inside.
“You brought my van!” she squealed at him, backing up as he pushed the door closed.
He gave her a brief smile, shrugging out of his overcoat. “I’ll be keeping the keys for now, though.”
That seemed reasonable, considering their deal.
“But you redeemed it already,” she gushed.
“I said I would.”
“If I worked for you.”
“And you will.”
She wanted to jump up and down in delight, though she knew this wasn’t the time or the place. She tried patting his chest, smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt, and found herself up on her toes. He made a sort of snuffling chuckle, a muffled sound that was part gentle derision and part pleasure, and she couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around his neck. Then, quite without meaning to, she kissed him, hard and fast on the mouth. His smile faded into something serious and fraught with equal parts longing and sadness. She dropped her arms and jumped back, feeling burned and embarrassed and full of forbidden desires.
They know I’m attracted to you.
“Um, do you want lunch? Hilda’s put out a buffet.”
He nodded. “Sounds good, but I need to speak to everyone first. Would you make sure they’re all in the parlor?”
Eva nodded and hurried back to the kitchen to tell Hilda, Carol and Jessa that Brooks would like to see them in the family parlor. She followed them back there but hung in the doorway, while Brooks gave them the news.
“Hypatia is receiving the very best possible care, and she is in stable condition, resting comfortably, but she needs bypass surgery, and she’s just too weak for it right now. We have to regulate her heartbeat first and get her blood oxygen levels up. That’s going to take a few days, and in the interim, I’m going to ask you all to stay away from the hospital and let her rest. Meanwhile, your prayers will work wonders because, as you know, God hears and answers in the way that is best for all. Now, I’m told that Hilda has prepared a buffet in the dining room, so I suggest we all eat and go about our business.”
Hubner asked Brooks if he would say a blessing before they went into the dining room, and he readily agreed. Lifting his arms about chest high and turning his palms up, he bowed his head and spoke quietly and simply.
As the family filed out, they took the time to ask quick questions and receive answers and reassurance, until finally Brooks stood alone in the center of the room as if bolted to the floor. Eva wandered toward him.
“Are you okay?”
He looked at her, his vulnerability plain to see. “I’m not sure. Frankly I’ve always felt that Hypatia was somehow indomitable, unshakeable, and it’s a little frightening to realize that’s not the case. I’m just realizing, too, how much I’ve leaned on her throughout my lifetime, and it’s demoralizing to find that I’m not as strong, perhaps, as I thought I was. They’re all a bit eccentric, you know, the sisters, but completely adorable, and they have such enormous capacities to love and to give that it’s so easy to become dependent on them. Now, suddenly, I’m not sure I measure up to their standard, and how will I ever if they’re not all here to show me the way? I feel like a lost boy, like I haven’t quite grown up, and I want to tell God that I’ll behave like a big boy now if He just won’t take Hypatia. It’s...depressing, sad, awkward.” He looked down at his feet, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
“You love her,” Eva summed up simply.
“She’s been mother, aunt, grandmother, friend, counselor, teacher to me. They all have, at one time or another. I don’t want to lose her, any of them.”
Eva slid her arm through his. “I envy you that relationship.”
He turned his head and stared at her. Then he smiled. “You should. It’s a very great blessing. By the way,” he said, placing his free hand over hers where it curled around his arm, “thanks for stepping in to help out.”
“How do you know I have?” she asked, cocking her head.
“Morgan’s been calling me all morning. He says you’ve been in the kitchen and behind the tea trolley and even changed a diaper or two, and helped with the laundry. What you’ve done has been noticed, and they’re grateful. We all are, especially under the circumstances.”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I’m dying this very minute.”
“Eva, you’re living this very minute,” he told her, squeezing her hand, “and I want you to go on living every minute. That’s really all any of us can do, you know. Just live every minute we have on this earth. But you need to think about what comes next, too, Eva.”
She could see that he meant it, believed it, and his conviction unsettled her, so she retreated once more to familiar territory.
“Right now,” she quipped, “my stomach’s doing the thinking for me, and it thinks it’s lunchtime. Let’s go eat.”
His shoulders slumped, but he nodded and let her lead him off to the dining room, where they enjoyed a hearty lunch and not a single moment of privacy before he went on his way again. Later, after the room emptied, Eva began straightening the buffet area. An unexpected voice at her shoulder made her jump.
“Brooks tasked me
with making sure you don’t overtire yourself.”
She whirled to find Morgan Chatam at her elbow. He grinned at her and arched an eyebrow.
“Are you overtired, Ms. Russell?”
Striking a pose, she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and drawled, “I am languishing, sir, languishing.” He laughed. She grinned. “I’m fine. Tell your evil overlord that I even remembered to take my pills.”
Morgan leaned back against the edge of the dining table and crossed his ankles, bracing his weight on the heels of his hands. “He’s not evil, you know.”
“I know.”
“In fact, he may be the finest man I know. And that’s saying something, considering he married the woman I loved.”
Curious, she folded her arms. “Do tell.”
Morgan smiled and bowed his head as if deciding just how much to reveal. Finally, he looked up. “I was engaged to Brigitte. Then she suddenly broke it off and married Brooks.”
Eva goggled at him. “And you’re still friends.” It came out as much question as statement, but obviously it was true.
Nodding, Morgan said, “I was young and stupid, so it took a while for me to realize that she was ill. And that they loved each other. And me.”
My wife was dying when I married her.
“He knew she was dying before he married her,” Eva concluded.
“He did,” Morgan confirmed. “They didn’t want to worry me when she began having symptoms, then when they discovered the tumor and she decided against treatment, they decided not even to tell me because they knew I’d press her to grasp at any straw to save her life. Brooks had the courage, the empathy, the strength, the selflessness to let her chart her own path. He loved her more than I did. I’d have made her suffer because I wouldn’t have been able to let her go when I should have. I don’t think I fully understood that until I met Lyla Simone. Now I get it. I cannot do what isn’t best for Lyla and Bri.”
“You named your daughter for the woman you and Brooks both loved,” Eva suddenly realized.
