Braided Gold
Page 39
“I’m assuming from my visit to the clinic yesterday that you have a full-time nursing staff.”
“That we do, as well as a pathology laboratory and a radiology department, but both of these departments are supervised by local physicians. The support staff are all salaried. We have received a number of grants and community contributions that assist with ongoing expenses. But most importantly, the Russell estate has been dedicated to the sustenance of our work.”
“And what about you? Are you salaried?”
“When Paul and Elizabeth invited me to work with them they insisted that I come on board as a paid professional. They have been very generous with me so far as salary is concerned. The other long-term salaried employee is Evelyn Fairclough, our accountant.”
“Oh, yes, you must be speaking of the older woman I met yesterday. I guessed that she was in charge of the office.”
“Evelyn is from San Diego and has been with us almost from the beginning. Although she’s well along in years, she’s as sharp as she ever was. She supervises all of our paid staff.”
“And what brought her from San Diego to Ann Arbor?”
“I’m not sure, exactly. I do know that she was a friend of Paul, and that he brought her here following something of a tragedy in her life.”
“What kind of tragedy?”
“I assume we’re speaking ‘off the record’ here.”
“Absolutely, I’m just interested.”
“I’ve never asked any specific questions, but I did overhear a conversation between Elizabeth and Paul one day in which there was a reference to her husband’s having been convicted of a felony. I gathered that he had been imprisoned and that she had subsequently filed for a divorce. I think she was worth a fortune at one time, but she was in fairly bleak financial circumstances when she came to Ann Arbor.”
The cortege moved slowly into the quiet, shaded lanes of the Forest Hills Cemetery where final graveside respects were paid to Elizabeth. Nearby sat Helen in her wheelchair, and to her side stood Paul, now living a new life, making good on promises he had made many years before. At his side stood Claire, her arm lovingly about his waist.
After the final formalities and a brief exchange with Helen, the two of them turned and walked hand in hand to a nearby gravesite. Here there were two headstones. The first read, “Catherine Stevens Kirkham,” and on the second was inscribed, “Michael Kirkham, a beloved son.” They stood thoughtfully for a few moments in the shade of the low hanging tree branches, then Claire turned to Paul and said, “I was proud of you today. Your remarks at the funeral were just right. I’m certain that Elizabeth was pleased.”