Nell and Lady: A Novel

by Ashley Farley

  Nell got up and went to him. “Son.” She touched his arm. “Don’t do this to yourself. Would it be the end of the world if you didn’t get into Harvard?”

  He yanked his arm away. “Yes, Mom. It would be the end of the world.” He dumped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his cup and then added cream until his beverage was the color of a vanilla latte. He lifted the mug to his lips and slurped.

  “Can you even taste the coffee through all that sugar?” she asked with a hint of a smile on her lips.

  “I’m not interested in tasting the coffee. I’m drinking it for the caffeine.”

  “Go easy, baby. Too much caffeine can have a negative impact on the body.”

  “I’m aware. I don’t have time for a lecture from Nurse Nell today. I need to get to the library.” He gulped down his coffee as though his life depended on it.

  She moved to the stove. “At least eat some breakfast before you go. I made oatmeal.”

  He started out of the room. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Maybe not now, but you will be around ten o’clock. Then you’ll have to take a break from studying to get food.”

  Booker turned around. “Fine. I’ll eat some oatmeal.”

  He sat down at the counter while she ladled the hot cereal into a bowl. She added a dab of butter, sprinkled raisins and cinnamon sugar on top, and set the bowl in front of him. “I was hoping we could go to dinner and catch a movie tonight. Unless you’ve made plans with your friends.”

  “I’ll be in the library all day.” He noticed her dejection and added, “But I could probably meet you somewhere for a late dinner.”

  “Great! Tell me where you’d like to go, and I’ll make the reservation.”

  “Hmm, let’s see.” He devoured heaping spoonfuls of oatmeal while he thought about it. “Why don’t I text you when I’m leaving the library and we can meet at Taco Boy for a quick dinner. That way I can study some more when I get home.”

  “You’re going to burn out, son.”

  He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I’m in the homestretch, Mom. You don’t need to worry about me. I can last a few more weeks. What’re you doing today?”

  “Well . . .” She stood, looking down on him from across the counter. “I’m supposed to visit Willa, but I don’t know how I can face Lady knowing she may have married Daniel Sterling.”

  For the past two nights, Nell had stayed up past midnight searching the internet for information about Daniel Sterling. Although she found out little about his personal life, she learned of a Daniel Sterling in Chicago, a successful criminal attorney with a firm bearing his name. Thirty-seven years had passed since she’d last seen Daniel. While the image of the teenage Daniel was still as fresh in her mind as it’d been the night of Lady’s birthday party, it was difficult to say whether the man with salt-and-pepper hair on the firm’s website was the same Daniel Sterling.

  Booker looked up from his oatmeal. “Oh, she married Daniel Sterling all right.”

  Nell’s jaw dropped. “How do you know?”

  “I asked Regan, and she confirmed that her father’s name is Daniel. I’m sorry, Mom. I accidentally told Regan about her father.”

  “You told Regan what about her father?” Her eyes narrowed in confusion and then grew wide. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her about Daniel assaulting me?”

  He lowered his gaze. “Except that I may have used the word rape.”

  She slammed her coffee mug down on the counter. “Why would you do such a thing, Booker? I told you that’s not what happened.”

  “I know, Mom. I was having a bad day. I’d just found out that Regan was beating me for valedictorian.” Booker planted his face in his palms. “I wish I could take it back. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  When she’d confided in her son about that night, she’d never meant for him to tell anyone. Least of all the Bellemores. Regan was an innocent party. The last thing she wanted was for Regan to get hurt. “Poor Regan. How did she respond?”

  “She went home sick that afternoon. I tried to explain everything to her the next day, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s not speaking to me at the moment.”

  Nell considered the potential fallout from his disclosure. Regan would’ve told Lady, who would’ve told Willa. Now everyone knew the secret she’d worked so hard to hide for thirty-seven years. Oddly, instead of being angry or worried, releasing the burden she’d been bearing for decades was liberating. Which was exactly what Desmond had tried to tell her.

  She could no longer ignore the suspicion that had been gnawing at her since learning Lady may have married Daniel Sterling. If he had assaulted Nell in the closet that night, a stranger he’d only just met, to what extent had he mistreated his wife?

  Nell went to the Keurig and brewed herself another cup of coffee. “This isn’t your problem to worry about, Booker. This is my mess, and I never should’ve dragged you into it. The last thing I wanted to do was interfere in your friendship with Regan.”

  Booker scraped the last of his oatmeal onto his spoon and licked it. “I’m not too worried about it. Regan’s not the type to stay mad for long.” He pushed back from the counter and walked his bowl to the sink. “I need to get going.”

  He dashed upstairs to his room and returned five minutes later. He paused in the kitchen long enough to stuff his shirttail in his jeans, tie the laces on his running shoes, and grab a handful of protein bars from the pantry.

  “Protein bars are no substitute for a proper lunch,” Nell said as she walked him to his car. “There are plenty of places you can grab a quick bite to eat. It’d do you good to take a break and get some fresh air. I’m seriously worried about how much you’ve been studying lately.”

  “I’ll be fine, Mom.” He opened his car door and climbed in. “I’ll text you tonight before I leave the library.”

  As Booker was driving out of the driveway, he passed his father coming in. Desmond slowed and rolled down his window. Booker finger-waved at him and kept on going. Nell observed them and then watched as her soon-to-be ex-husband pulled to a screeching halt in front of her. His door swung open, and his long legs appeared.

  “What the hell, Nell? I thought we agreed to wait until graduation to buy him a car.” He towered over her. There was something sexy as hell about a handsome doctor wearing scrubs.

  She glared at him. “What’s the big deal, Des? Graduation is less than two months away.”

  His arm shot out, and he pointed down the road where Booker had just driven in his new car. “You can’t use my money to pay cash for a car without consulting me first.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Like you consulted me when you took our most valuable pieces of art out of the house? I used our money to buy Booker’s car. I contribute my salary to our joint account.”

  “The money’s not the issue,” he said with a heavy sigh. “The issue is the timing. Did you think for a second that maybe I wanted to participate in the purchase of his first car?”

  “No more than you ever considered what a hardship carpooling has been for me all these years with my long hours at the hospital. You were the one who insisted he go to a private school downtown. Yet you never once drove him to school or Boy Scouts, swimming lessons, or any of the numerous other activities Booker has been involved in over the years.”

  “You never asked me to drive him, Nell.”

  “Ha. I asked you a gazillion times. You were always too busy. Like when I had that horrible flu his fifth-grade year, I had to drag myself out of the house in my bathrobe to go pick him up.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the house.

  “Wait a minute, Nell. I’m sorry I got angry. Can’t we make nice for a minute? I was hoping we could work things out amicably since this divorce is what we both want.”

  She spun back around to face him. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

  “What part?”

  “That part about the divorce being what we both want.”

  “
Well isn’t it?” Desmond peered at her over the top of his Ray-Ban aviators.

  “Only because I refuse to put up with your extramarital affairs any longer. You’re truly delusional, Desmond. Have your attorney call mine.”

  She went inside and slammed the door, leaning against it until his car rumbled out of the driveway. She returned to the safety of her kitchen and placed her coffee in the microwave to reheat. She’d been crazy to marry him in the first place and a fool to believe him when he promised to change. He’d never cheated on her before they were married. Of that much she was certain. But he was easy prey to the pretty nursing students who fell all over him. The sooner she could finalize her divorce, the sooner she could get him out of her life and move on. She had a lot of making up of lost time to do.

  As she was removing her coffee from the microwave, she noticed a missed call and voice mail on her phone. She listened to the message from the on-duty charge nurse at the hospital. The stomach flu was circulating among the nursing staff, and they were desperate for her to fill in. She immediately texted back that she was on her way. Immersing herself in her work won hands down over spending the day at home alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LADY

  Willa’s health declined throughout the day on Sunday. Lady attributed the deterioration to Nell not showing up for her promised visit on Saturday. Her mother seemed to have given up on life. The hope that had been so apparent on her face not twenty-four hours prior had vanished. She refused to eat or even brush her teeth. She even rejected Regan’s offer to read Pride and Prejudice to her. Regan’s face grew more concerned with each passing hour, and even though Willa slept for much of the afternoon, she never left her grandmother’s side.

  Lady finally banished Regan from Willa’s room around eight o’clock that night. “Go to bed, sweetheart. We’ve had an exhausting weekend. You need to get a good night’s sleep so you’ll be fresh for school tomorrow.”

  Regan reluctantly dragged herself off to bed.

  Lady kept vigil, dozing off and on in the gooseneck rocker beside her mother’s bed. As the night wore on, her mother’s breathing grew more labored and her skin warmer to the touch, but she was too out of it to hold the thermometer under her tongue. Lady rummaged through the hall linen closet for the ear thermometer she’d had for Regan as a child. Her temperature continued to climb, reaching 104 as the first rays of daylight streamed through the windows.

  Lady, not wanting to alarm her daughter, waited for Regan to leave for school before calling the doctor’s office. She was on hold for only a brief moment before a nurse picked up the call. Lady identified herself and explained the situation.

  “Call an ambulance right away,” the nurse said. “Have them take her to the emergency room at MUSC. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

  Lady was waiting on the piazza when the ambulance arrived ten minutes later.

  “This way.” She held the door open for them. “First room on the left at the top of the stairs.”

  The crew of three maneuvered the stretcher through the door and up the stairs to Willa’s room. Lady stood out of the way as the EMTs worked on her mother. One of them reported Willa’s vitals into her Bluetooth headset while another secured an oxygen mask to her face and the third prepared the stretcher for transport. On the count of three, they lifted Willa’s frail body onto the stretcher and tightly fastened bands around her legs and torso. Lady trailed them out of the house the same way they’d come in less than five minutes earlier.

  “You’re welcome to ride with us to the hospital,” the only female EMT said to Lady as they loaded Willa into the back of the ambulance. “But she’s in good hands with us, and you may want your car later.”

  “That’s a good point,” Lady said. “I’ll follow you there.”

  She grabbed her car keys and handbag and hurried out to Willa’s car. A car accident on Calhoun Street, causing traffic backups throughout the downtown area, made the going slow. Lady turned on the hazard lights and kept her eyes glued to the ambulance’s back bumper as they navigated across town to the hospital. She parked in a handicapped spot near the ambulance. She couldn’t take the chance of losing her mother by going to the parking deck. With a whole row of empty handicapped spots, she figured God would forgive her this once.

  She followed the gurney through the maze of emergency room hallways and into a vacant cubicle. The EMTs shifted Willa from the stretcher to a hospital bed. Once they left the room, nurses swarmed the cubicle, crowding around her mother’s bed. One of the nurses stood at a computer monitor, barking orders, while the others inserted an IV, drew blood, and hooked up monitors. Lady stood in the corner paralyzed with fear, her handbag clutched to her chest. Seconds clicked off the wall clock. Twenty minutes had passed before Lady stopped one of the nurses, on her way out of the cubicle, for information. “Excuse me. Can you tell me what’s happening? Is my mother going to be okay?”

  “We’re assessing her now. The doctor will be in to talk to you soon,” she said and scurried off.

  Another fifteen minutes passed before a doctor entered the cubicle. He was so young, Lady wondered if he knew how to use the stethoscope dangling around his neck. While he listened to Willa’s chest, his eyes traveled the room. When he nodded his head in acknowledgment of her, Lady nodded back. Moving over to the computer, he rubbed his chin with one hand as he clicked and scrolled with the other. Finally, he turned away from the computer and addressed the nurses, issuing instructions Lady didn’t understand.

  He approached Lady. “I gather you’re a family member.”

  Lady held out her hand. “I’m Lady Bellemore, her daughter.” When his face scrunched up in confusion, as so often happened when she met strangers, she explained, “Lady is a nickname for Adelaide.”

  “Adelaide,” he repeated, pronouncing her name slowly as if testing the sound on his lips. “A southern name for a lady.”

  It was Lady’s turn to look confused.

  “My wife is expecting,” he explained. “We’re researching names. After all, doesn’t every man want his daughter to grow up to become a lady?”

  She noticed the wedding band on his ring finger. He was handsome in a rugged way with a scruffy beard and dark wavy hair in need of a trim. His warm brown eyes and soft-spoken tone suggested a gentle manner. “Names can be deceiving, Dr. . . .”

  “Atkins. Resident pulmonologist.” He held his hand out to shake. “I’ve spoken with your mother’s oncologist, Dr. Olson, regarding her case. I’m afraid she has pneumonia. The cancer has compromised her immune system, which makes her condition difficult to treat. She’s a very sick woman.”

  Lady’s heart raced, her eyes brimmed with tears, and her tone was barely audible when she asked, “Is she gonna die?”

  “Not if we can help it. We’ll hit her hard with intravenous antibiotics and hope for the best. We’ll have to admit her, of course. We’re waiting for a room now. Hopefully it won’t be too much longer.”

  Lady wished she knew what questions to ask. She understood so little about medicine. “How long will it take for the antibiotics to work?”

  “At least a couple of days, if the antibiotics work. I don’t mean to alarm you, but if there is anyone you need to call, you should go ahead and call them.”

  Lady’s jaw went slack, and her immediate thought was of Nell. The years washed away, and suddenly she was fourteen again, desperately in need of her best friend, her adopted sister.

  She felt a hand on her bare arm. “Are you all right, Ms. Bellemore?”

  “So you think she’s going to die?”

  “I don’t like to make predictions. In cases like these, I think it’s better to say what needs to be said now than regret not having the opportunity later.”

  Lady suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “I understand. Please excuse me. I need to call my daughter.” Brushing past the doctor, she exited the cubicle and staggered down the hall a short distance before collapsing against the wall.

&nbs
p; In the cubicle across the hall, an elderly man with an oxygen mask strapped to his face cried out in pain. Lady was wondering if she should go for help when she noticed a nurse in blue scrubs coming her way, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor as she rushed to the man’s aid. Lady inched down the wall until she could no longer see inside the cubicle.

  She rummaged through her handbag for her cell phone. She stared at the screen, unsure of the best way to get in touch with her daughter. She couldn’t very well text Regan to tell her that Willa was dying and she needed to hightail it over to MUSC to say goodbye. She worried that if she called her and Regan had forgotten to put her phone on silent, she would disturb the class and make the teacher angry. Besides, Lady needed a moment to collect herself before she spoke to her daughter. If she broke down on the phone, she would scare Regan.

  Lady searched her contacts for the school’s number. She identified herself to Mrs. Redmond, the office assistant, when she answered on the second ring. “I need to get a message to my daughter as soon as she’s free from class. It’s a matter of some urgency,” Lady said, and explained the situation to the assistant.

  “I understand, and I’m terribly sorry about your mother,” Mrs. Redmond said in a sincere tone. “I’ll personally deliver the message to her when class is over in ten minutes.”

  Lady breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. And please have her call me as soon as possible.”

  Twenty minutes later, she was standing outside her mother’s cubicle, gripping her phone, when Regan called in hysterics. “Oh God, Mom! She’s not dead, is she? Please tell me Willa’s not dead!”

  “No, sweetheart. She’s not dead. But she’s very sick. Take an Uber to the hospital. I’ll text you the address.”