Possessed by a Stranger (27 page)

‘
True love never dies even after
death

Our souls will meet again in time

Grieve the loss of your son with this
quest

Gold or riches you will not find’

She wrote in her journal
…
‘Give them their wants in the faces of
the theft they perpetrated’
. It seems she
added a bit more than faces to the portrait. If you hadn’t sent us
to the loft for the portrait we wouldn’t have found the
letter.”

“I can just about hear Louise laughing now.
This sounds exactly like something she would do. Hannah, I’m so
glad I can meet Abbey now and tell her she was right. You are the
link to her past.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Three days later Hannah stepped out of Pops’
room. Closing Pops’ bedroom door behind her, a wave of nauseas
crashed over her. Stooping down in the empty hallway, she hugged
her knees to her chest. Tears that she had held in check moistened
her cheeks. The spark in Pops’ eyes had dimmed flickering to
extinguish forever.

Mrs. Presley had contacted his doctor and was
waiting on his examination before alerting the family. Garret
deserved to know now of his grandfather’s condition. The sick
feeling she had felt passed. She used the wall to steady her
rubbery legs when she stood to leave. Ignoring Mrs. Presley’s
wishes, she took out her cell phone to call Garret. She hesitated
trying to find the words.

As soon as she was outside of the mansion,
she made the call. His phone rang three times before he
answered.

“Hello, this is Garret Presley.”

Sitting in the conference room at the head of
the table with ten employees, he didn’t want them to suspect this
was a personal call. His curiosity prompted him to answer. Hannah
had never called him at work. If this call was for phone sex, he
would call a lunch break.

He sounded formal. Wasn’t she programmed into
his phone? “This is Hannah. Garret, Pops doesn’t look good
today.”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she
meant before he asked. He heard the answer in her tearful voice. He
needed to clarify it wasn’t too late.

“Your mother has called the doctor but I
think you might need to come home now.”

“Thanks.” He was barely able to talk with the
lump forming in his throat, chocking the breath out of him.

He stood, announced “Family emergency”,
leaving everyone and everything behind. He alerted Jeff, who had
damn well better be outside waiting when he walked out the door.
Jeff was and Garret hurriedly entered the car.

“Townhouse and step on it.” As soon as they
arrived, in record-breaking time, Garret went directly to his
garage for his car. Nothing would stand in the way of his getting
to his grandfather.

With tear-filled eyes, Hannah watched his BMW
whiz by her cottage. She pictured the speedometer touching the red
line the entire trip for him to get here in this short of time. Her
heart painfully clenched for what he was about to face.

An hour later, an ambulance, a police vehicle
and a black car followed the lane to the mansion within twenty
minutes of each other. There weren’t any flashing lights or any
signs of urgency. She knew he had passed on, taking with him the
answer to the legend. Hannah desperately needed to believe Grammy
had been there to greet him at the end of his journey. She waited
in the swing in her front yard until the ambulance passed again.
She said a silent farewell to Pops.

The emptiness that filled the room
overwhelmed Garret as he sat beside the stripped hospital bed. He
had held Pops’ hand as he took his last breath. The light in his
eyes had slowly dimmed then disappeared. Garret knew in his heart
that his grandfather had bravely accepted death. Grant Presley died
with a peaceful smile on his lips. The rest of his family had
gathered downstairs but he remained in the room to grieve alone.
His chest weighted with sorrow crushed the breath out of him. With
his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face, he shed
the tears of his final goodbye to his beloved grandfather.

This private moment might be the only one
afforded. The house would fill with friends, family, business
associates and others wanting to pay their respect. Then, there
would be the viewing, the funeral and a wake. He wasn’t sure how
long he sat there. No one opened the door to check on him, they all
knew better.

He stared at the four paintings lined across
Pops’ dresser. The paintings that brought joy to Pops’ final days.
Garret went to the bathroom to wash his face. He walked back into
the room, stacked the paintings to take to Hannah. He needed to see
her, to feel her, to hold her.

Unable to sleep, Hannah heard her front door
open. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table noting the
time, two fifteen. She flipped the bed clothes as she swung her
feet to the floor. With bare feet she crept to the top of the
stairs. Garret was placing the four paintings on the side chair
along with his jacket. His head and shoulders drooped as if not
able to hold the pain. She floated down the stairs. He met her when
she reached the bottom step. Her arms encircled his neck as she
pulled his head to her comforting bosom. Words were useless, as she
knew from experience. Trivial redundant consolations that failed to
penetrate the wall of sorrow caused by the loss of a loved one. A
broken heart could only heal itself with time and tears.

She trailed her hand down his arm to grasp
his hand, and then led him up the stairs. In her bedroom, she
helped him into the bed. She removed his shoes before climbing in
beside him. Gathering him in her arms, she soothingly ran her hands
over his back. She soothed him to help release his tightened
muscles as he finally drifted into a restless sleep. She dozed
several times only to be awakened by his body’s sudden jerks.

When the pain in his heart engulfed him, he
would squeeze her until he regained control over his emotions. She
comforted him just by lying beside him. Her warm body pressed
against his, eased the pain. He wasn’t alone. He had her.

The curbs lined with parked vehicles on both
sides of the street. Hannah drove passed the overflowing funeral
home parking lot. She followed the line of slow moving vehicles
looking for an open parking space. Two blocks on the left a church
parking lot was being used as an alternative parking location. A
police officer waving a flashlight directed the oncoming traffic
into the lot.

She walked behind a group of locals the two
blocks to the final showing of Mr. Grant Presley. The people
chattered amongst themselves anticipating the elaborate funeral of
a town icon. They spoke of the wake hosted at the Presley mansion
as if it were the biggest bash of their lives. Hannah understood
their seemingly callous conversation. Pops’ passing allowed them a
glimpse into the lives of the inaccessible family at the top of the
hill overlooking their meager existence. This was a chance of a
lifetime to hob-knob with the rich and famous Presley family. She
had more in common with them than she cared to admit.

Hannah paused outside the entrance looking
toward the stars. She attempted to drain the tears forming in her
eyes back into her tear ducts. After patting the escaped excess of
tears from the corners of her eyes, she entered the funeral home.
The herd of people crammed together in an efficiently orchestrated
viewing process corralled into a slow moving line.

Hannah removed the photograph from her coat
pocket before slipping out of her coat and hanging it over her arm.
She wrapped the photograph of the painting of Grant and Louise in
tissues holding it in her hand. The photograph fulfilled a promise
she had made to Pops. He swore her to secrecy. She respected his
wishes keeping his trusted last request from his family, including
Garret.

She signed the visitation log. The casket
surrounded by a garden of floral arrangements lay open at the end
of the line. Garret stood protectively by the head of the casket
shaking hands; kissing cheeks of all the mourners paying their last
respects to the man, he loved so dearly. His staunch façade was
admirable, heartbreaking. Her arms ached to comfort him, make the
pain disappear from the hidden place in his soul. His parents sat
close to exit where the line was being ushered out of the room.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as he
stood in front of the last bed Pops would ever sleep in. Hannah
warmly smiled at the empty shell lying in a bed of tufted baby blue
satin. She hadn’t known him long but he had given her so much. He
had connected her with her past. Being the last blood relative of
either side of her family, the past was all she had. Thanks to his
shared recollections, Louise Abernathy Franks had become her great
Grammy. It was odd how something so small could hold so much value
in her heart. She slipped the picture behind the red satin
handkerchief in his suit jacket pocket.

Garret stepped beside her. He removed the
picture. Pulling back the lapels of Pops’ suit, he placed the
photograph inside the shirt pocket. He readjusted his grandfather’s
burial attire smoothing the jacket to perfection and straitening
his tie. His hand firmly touched her back as he stared into her
upturned face.

“He would want it next to his heart.” He
stepped back to his obligatory position of the Presley family
representative.

With his jaw, tightly clenched Garret fixated
on Hannah. In the short time she knew Pops, they formed a bond. Her
gesture of the photograph gave Garret closure he had been searching
to find. It was the perfect gift for Pops to take with him.

His father relieved him as the family
representative just in time to follow Hannah outside. He scanned
the area not sure what direction she might have taken. Two young
men stood talking with her on the sidewalk. Garret walked up behind
her. He slapped his hand on Seth’s shoulder gripping tightly.

“Hello Seth, I haven’t seen you for a while.
Are you staying out of trouble?” He increased the pressure on
Seth’s shoulder seeing a hungry look in that young buck’s eyes, he
didn’t care to see. Hannah belonged to him and this kid better get
any expectations he had out of his head.

“Yes, sir.” Seth and his friend quickly
walked away.

Garret wrapped his arm around her feeling the
comfort of her warmth. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

She slipped her arm around her big strong man
wanting to absorb some of his pain. She tilted her head and was
greeted with a smile. “How are you holding up?” A quick shrug of
his shoulders answered.

They reached her car in silence. He helped
her inside her car then leaned to place a kiss on her lips. He
rested one arm on the open car door not wanting to tear his gaze
from her upturned face.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Make
sure you lock your doors. It might be late before I can get away …
but I will be there.” She smiled nodding her head in agreement. He
reluctantly shut her door and remained standing in the same spot
until she drove out of sight.

It was after midnight when Garret slipped
into bed beside her. She snuggled into his chest. Wrapped in the
comfort of each other arms they would get through Pops death
together. It was these moments, safely cocooned in each other’s
arms, when they could share anything and everything. Except, she
couldn’t find the courage to tell him she loved him. She couldn’t
chance speeding his eventual departure from her life. Especially,
with one of his reasons for coming every weekend just passed away.
Now, she was his only reason and her importance in his life would
be tested. She dreaded the outcome.

Holding her in his arms felt so right when
everything else in his world felt so wrong, out of kilter. Lord,
she eased the turmoil in his heart, mind and soul.

“They’ve decided to hold a short graveside
service. There isn’t a building large enough to hold one indoors.
Pops made all the funeral arrangements and stipulated he wanted it
held in town.”

“There was a huge turnout tonight.”

“Yes and all those people will be at the
house tomorrow for the wake.”

“Does your mother need any help with
anything?”

“She’s hired caterers to do all the work.
She’s planning to feed an army. You are coming aren‘t you?”

“I’ll be there.” She would always be where he
needed her. He held her all night in his arms.

The mansion filled with a steady stream of
people from a variety of lifestyles. After consuming a full glass
of champagne from the many toasts raised to Pops, Hannah mingled
with the guests from room to room. She had yet to stumble across
any Presley.

She had accidentally introduced herself to
two of Pops’ former wives. They entertained her for almost an hour
squabbling over who got the best settlement and whether or not they
would be named in his will. Somewhere along the way, she had been
appointed mediator to their endless debates. Pops’ wives had a lot
in common. They both sported bend-over-and-fall-on-your-face boobs,
money as their first priority, a long list of wealthy ex-husbands,
loud boisterous personalities, and to top it all off, not a brain
between the two of them.

Feeling the effects of the
champagne and bored with
their antics
Hannah gave Pops his last hurrah. “I’ve heard rumors his money was
divided according to which wife provided the most pleasure. You
know … of a sexual nature.”

Hannah walked away hearing them recounting
their sexual exploits. Their voices raised in an attempt to talk
over each other. Some guest quickly moved away while others moved
in to hear more of the intimate details shouted back and forth
between the women. Hannah felt Garret’s arm grasp her tightly
around her waist. He relieved her of her champagne glass leaving it
on the first table they passed.