“I’ve spoken to her doctor’s nurses several times today. We’re doing all we can for her for now.” Lady eyed Regan’s plate. “You need to eat. I can’t have you getting sick on me too. Are you feeling better today?”
Regan hunched over her plate. “I guess.”
The subject of her father hung in the air between them as they ate dinner, but Regan and her mother were too exhausted and worried about Willa to talk about Daniel. After helping Lady with the dishes, Regan poured herself a glass of milk and trudged up the stairs. Despite her mother’s warning not to bother her grandmother, she peeked in on her anyway. Willa was fast asleep with her mouth wide open. She tucked her blanket tighter around her and left the room. Avoiding the sight of her ruined hair in the bathroom mirror down the hall, Regan took a long hot shower and fell into bed.
She woke the following morning to a silent house with no aroma of coffee wafting up from the kitchen. When she went downstairs, dressed and ready for school, she was alarmed to find the newspaper still on the piazza and the kitchen dark and empty. No matter how drunk her mother had gotten the night before, she always woke in time to make breakfast for Regan before school. She flew back upstairs and was relieved to find Lady asleep on the love seat beside Willa’s bed, her neck bent at an awkward angle and a string of drool hanging from her lower lip. She considered waking her mother but thought better of it. They’d obviously had a difficult night.
With a heavy heart, Regan grabbed a protein bar from the pantry and ate it on her walk to school. When her teacher handed out the graded calculus test, her eyes blurred with tears as she stared down at the D written in red marker with a note for Regan to see the teacher after class.
Regan waited for the classroom to empty before approaching her desk. “What happened?” Mrs. Becker asked. “Your homework grades for this section were excellent as always.”
“I went home from school sick on Wednesday and didn’t feel like studying that night. I thought I understood the material well enough to take the test.”
“You should’ve told me, Regan. I would’ve given you more time to prepare.”
Tears spilled from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks.
Mrs. Becker held a tissue box out to her. “Oh, honey.” She rounded her desk and gave Regan a half hug. “Is everything okay at home?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice to tell Mrs. Becker that her grandmother had cancer and might die.
Mrs. Becker walked her to the door. “Don’t worry about this test. You know I drop the lowest grade. You’ll be fine.”
Her father was a rapist and her beloved Willa might die. Regan didn’t think she’d ever be fine again, but she nodded just the same.
She struggled to pay attention in her classes for the rest of the day. She felt like she was losing her edge, and she couldn’t let that happen, not with Willa counting on her to be valedictorian.
She requested a hall pass during fifth period and was relieved to find the bathroom empty. “Get a grip on yourself, Regan,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “Forget about your father. Daniel Sterling is a virtual stranger to you. He moved to Chicago with that slut wife of his when you were ten, and you’ve seen him exactly three times since. Your last visit was more than two years ago. He doesn’t care about you. He never calls you, and when you manage to get him on the phone, you have nothing to say to each other because you have nothing in common with him.”
Regan turned on the faucet and splashed water on her face. Drying her face with a paper towel, she said, “You’ve worked too darn hard for too long to let a low-life woman beater get in the way of you accomplishing your goals. If he comes to your graduation, which is a big if, you can confront him then about Booker’s allegations. Until then, forget him.”
She balled up the paper towel and tossed it into the trash can on the way out of the bathroom. With her head held high, she marched back to her fifth-period class.
Regan rarely stayed after school on Friday afternoons unless she was working on a big project. When the final bell rang at three o’clock, she rushed home to check on Willa. She found her mother in the same spot beside Willa’s bed where she’d left her that morning.
Regan tiptoed into the room. “How is she?”
“About the same.” Lady stood and stretched. “She doesn’t appear to be in any pain. She’s taken a few sips of water, but other than that, she’s been sleeping all day.”
“Have you been sitting by her bed this whole time?”
“Pretty much. I took a quick shower and ate a sandwich. I don’t want to leave her alone. I’m afraid she’ll wake up and try to get out of bed. I’m worried she’s too weak to even ring the bell.”
“I’ll sit with her for a while,” Regan offered. “Why don’t you go lie down or take a walk?”
“Do you mind?” Lady asked. “I could use some fresh air.”
Regan let her backpack slide down her arm to the floor. “I don’t mind at all. I have plenty of homework I can do.”
For the rest of the evening and all through the night, Regan and Lady took turns sitting with Willa. Late morning the following day, Lady had gone to the grocery store and Regan was working on an assignment for her government class when she felt Willa’s eyes on her.
“What have you done to your beautiful hair?” Willa asked in a hoarse voice.
Regan ran her hand down her short ponytail. “It was getting on my nerves, so I cut it all off.”
Willa lifted her fingers to her balding head. “I know what you mean about it getting on your nerves. Nell promised to do the same with what’s left of my hair.” Her eyes fluttered shut and then opened wide again. “What’s today?”
Regan closed her government book and stuffed it in the backpack at her feet. “Saturday, why?”
“Nell’s coming today.” She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “Good heavens, it’s almost noon already.” She lifted back the covers to reveal her bony legs. “You need to help me get ready.”
“No way, Willa. Mom says you’re too weak to get up.” Regan took the covers from her grandmother and tucked them tight around her. “You’ll have to wait until she gets back from the store.”
“Then bring me my hairbrush and cosmetics bag from the bathroom and my bed jacket from the closet, the blue silky one with the ruffled collar.”
Regan did as she was told, even though she doubted Nell would show up. She held the hand mirror in front of her grandmother’s face while she smeared on makeup and brushed her thinning hair.
“This won’t do at all,” Willa said when she brushed a clump of gray hair free of her head. “Fetch one of my scarves out of the top drawer of my dresser.”
“That’s a great idea, Willa. Just what I need to cover my bad haircut.”
Regan selected a floral scarf for her grandmother and one with geometric shapes for herself. They giggled as they covered their heads with the scarves, tying them off at the bases of their necks.
“Let’s take a selfie.” Holding her phone up in front of them, Regan leaned in close to her grandmother while she snapped the pic.
“Did Nell say what time she’s coming?” Willa asked.
“Not that I know of.” Regan spotted Pride and Prejudice on the nightstand. “Why don’t I read to you while we wait.”
Her grandmother adored Jane Austen. She’d read all her novels multiple times. Willa settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes to listen. Regan had finished a chapter and was just starting the next when they heard a car pull in the driveway, followed by footsteps on the piazza and the storm door banging shut.
“There’s my Nell. I knew she’d come,” Willa said, propping herself up against the headboard.
Even if Nell had once lived there, Regan doubted she would enter the house without knocking first.
Willa watched the doorway with anticipation, but when Lady appeared a few minutes later, her face fell in disappointment. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Nice to see you too, Wil
la.” Lady crossed the room to the bed. “You’re looking perky.”
“Of course I’m perky. Nell’s coming to visit me today.”
Regan and her mother exchanged a look. Lady was as skeptical as Regan about Nell’s visit.
“Don’t get your hopes up too high, in case she doesn’t come,” Lady said. “Nell has a demanding career. There’s always a chance she’ll get tied up at the hospital.”
“Humph.” Willa crossed her arms over her chest. “If Nell said she’d come, she’ll come.”
“If you say so.” Lady plumped up a pillow behind Willa’s back. “Let’s get some food in you so you’ll have the energy to visit with her when she gets here.”
Regan’s heart went out to her mother. Lady had remained steadfast to Willa all these years despite Willa’s obvious favoritism toward Nell.
Lady placed a hand atop her mother’s silk-clad head. “I like your kerchiefs, girls. It’s a good look for both of you.”
Regan smiled. “Thanks, Mom.” She got to her feet. “I’ll bring in the groceries for you.”
“And I’ll fix our brunch,” Lady said, following her from the room.
Lady prepared a large platter of scrambled eggs, cinnamon baked apples, hash browns, and biscuits, which they ate at the table on the second-floor piazza off Willa’s room. They spent the afternoon playing card games and listening to Kristin Hannah’s latest release on audiobook via Regan’s portable speaker. Willa remained cheerful all throughout the long hours, but by dinnertime, when there was still no sign of Nell and the sun fell below the horizon, her spirits plummeted.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NELL
Nell sat at the kitchen counter drinking coffee and staring at the Saturday newspaper. She’d read the same headline twenty times. CHARLESTON’S TRAFFIC CONGESTION PROBLEMS WORSEN. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she said, letting the paper drop to the counter.
The things Booker had said on the patio the other night had haunted her for days. Daniel Sterling had been the one who’d assaulted her, but she’d taken her anger at him out on white people in general. With the exception of her patients, of course. She prided herself on treating each of them the same. If she’d gotten help back then, she would’ve lived a more fulfilled life, would’ve felt like a whole person instead of this broken resemblance of one.
She left the counter with her coffee and sauntered around the room, considering the bare spots on the walls in the sitting area where the prized pieces of her art collection had once hung. This house had never been much of a home, merely a place to park their possessions. Truth be told, between their complicated work schedules and Booker’s extracurricular activities, they’d rarely spent much time there. Desmond’s family’s farm in McClellanville held her fondest memories. She and Desmond had spent their first Christmas together at the farm and every major holiday since then. Being in the marshlands with moss-draped trees and salt-infused air restored a sense of peace in her. And she felt comfortable, like she could truly be herself, around his parents, who were always welcoming and never judgmental.
Nell remembered meeting Desmond in an elevator at eleven o’clock at night at the end of her first shift as a student nurse at Emory University Hospital. Alone in the elevator, an awkward silence had fallen between them as they rode down from the sixth floor. Tall with broad shoulders, he towered over her, and while she felt his eyes on her and smelled his woodsy cologne, she didn’t dare look up. When the elevator doors opened on the dark and deserted ground floor of the parking garage, he motioned for her to exit the cart. She hesitated. Acres of empty rows separated her from her car.
“May I walk you to your car?” he’d asked.
She risked a quick glance at him. The twinkle in his eyes and dimples at the corners of his lips assured her she had nothing to worry about.
“Sure.” She raised her arm, her tote bag dangling from the crook in her elbow, and pointed at her car. “I’m right over there.”
They’d learned the essentials about each other—name, school, field of study—by the time they’d crossed the parking deck to her car, and a whole lot more when he took her to dinner the next evening.
By the end of the following month, October of Nell’s senior year at Spelman, she and Desmond had committed to a serious relationship. To her relief, he did not make fun of her for being a virgin. He was patient and gentle with her as he introduced her to the art of expressing and receiving sexual pleasure. They shared many things in common, including an appreciation for ethnic foods, old movies, and all things southern. And they were equally committed to excellence in their careers, to saving lives and making the sick healthy again.
When Desmond invited her to spend Christmas with his family on their farm in McClellanville, she’d eagerly accepted. She didn’t feel the least bit nervous during the drive to South Carolina on Christmas Eve. By that time, after four years of visiting the homes of her friends’ families for all the major holidays, plus some minor holidays as well, she considered herself the quintessential houseguest. She knew which wines and flowers to take as hostess gifts and how to buy small but meaningful presents for birthdays and Christmases.
She fell in love with the Gradys at first sight—Donald with his wire-rimmed spectacles on the tip of his nose and cardigan sweaters reeking of mothballs, and Ada with a crop of silver hair and long graceful limbs like her son—as well as their home, the restored farmhouse with sweeping views of coastal marshes.
In all the homes she’d visited for Christmases past, the process of exchanging gifts differed depending on the household. Some families lavished one another with elaborately wrapped expensive presents while others had only a few packages under the tree. As was the case in the Grady home.
They exchanged gifts after a simple supper of oyster stew, ham biscuits, and Waldorf salad before going to the midnight candlelight Christmas Eve service at their Episcopal church. As they were enjoying a brandy by the fire after church, Nell’s mind traveled back to the lovely Christmases she’d shared with her mama in their tiny apartment at the rear of the Bellemores’ home. The gifts had been things they’d both treasured—a hand-knitted sweater for Nell and lavender body lotion for her mama.
The following morning, Nell gathered with the Gradys in the kitchen, where they nibbled on Danishes and sausage rolls, with everyone pitching in at one point or another to help prepare the noonday Christmas feast—oven-roasted stuffed turkey, collard greens, and cornbread, with pecan pie for dessert.
After the dishes were put away, Nell and Desmond went out to the hammock at water’s edge and snuggled together under a wool blanket.
“I’m glad my parents retired here from Alabama five years ago,” Desmond said, inhaling the crisp salty air. “But I would’ve loved to have lived on the water as a boy.”
She nestled in close to him, resting her head on his chest. “What child wouldn’t thrive in a place like this?”
“I miss my family, all my aunts and uncles and cousins, in Alabama, but I want to raise my family on the water. Near a major medical center, of course. Would you ever consider moving back to Charleston?”
“I’d move anywhere to be with you,” she said. As long as it’s nowhere near Water Street.
“I can see us working at MUSC and living in a big house with a dock full of boats. I’ll teach our son to fish, and on the weekends, we’ll pack picnic lunches and go exploring in our boat.”
“Sounds perfect to me.” She kissed the tip of his chin. “When can we move?”
He chuckled. “I have to finish my residency first. But it’ll happen soon enough.”
And that was fine with Nell too. The more time and distance she put between herself and the Bellemores, the better off she’d be.
“Yoo-hoo!” Ada called from the house. “I hate to see you go, but you two need to get on the road. I’ve already packed turkey sandwiches and a thermos of coffee for your drive. You’ll get back at midnight as it is.”
In the driveway a short tim
e later, when she leaned in to kiss Nell’s cheek, Ada whispered, “I can see he cares about you. It’s written all over his face. And I know you’re good for him, because I’m an excellent judge of character.”
Nell felt an unexpected lump in her throat as they drove off toward Atlanta. Desmond’s wasn’t the big rambunctious family she’d always thought she wanted, but they were good folk, as her mother used to say. Donald was every bit the gentleman she’d imagined her father-in-law would be, and Ada was the type of woman she could one day love like her own mama. For the first time ever, she felt as though her life was taking the right direction.
When they’d met for lunch on Thursday, the divorce attorney advised Nell to sell the house and divide the equity. She’d told Tabitha she’d think about it, and while the idea of making a fresh start appealed to her, giving up the last remaining piece of her former life terrified her. Besides, this was the only home Booker had ever known, and she had qualms about making such an important decision without consulting him first. Ultimately, though, the decision was hers. He would leave for school soon, and she’d be alone in a house that held few good memories for her.
Booker shuffled into the kitchen in his slippers and pajamas, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Morning,” he mumbled as he popped a K-cup into the Keurig and pressed “Brew.”
“Since when do you drink coffee?” Nell asked.
“Since I have a ton of work to do today, and I’m trying to get off the wait list for Harvard, and Regan is ahead of me for valedictorian.”
Her son had not been himself for days. He’d shown ample appreciation to Nell for buying him a car—kissing and hugging her repeatedly and saying thank you at least a thousand times. But his delight had been short-lived. Nell was no stranger to stress. She saw it every day in her patients—coping with pain, recovering from surgery, accepting difficult diagnoses—and their families, who were struggling to juggle their lives while taking care of a loved one in an extended hospital stay. Booker had always been driven, but he’d always been able to manage the pressure. The past few nights, he’d come home from the library tightly wound and short-tempered. She hated to see him so worked up. Considering all his angst in the face of his parents’ divorce and the Harvard wait list, she regretted having added to his burden by telling him about Daniel.
Nell and Lady: A Novel Page 13
