The Happiest Day (13 page)

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Authors: Sandy Huth

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The house was
quiet and she found only Laurie, reclining on the sofa, reading a book.  “Hi.”

He looked up. 
“Hey, sleepy head.  I thought you’d never get up.  Want to go for a ride?”

“Let me eat
something first.  I’m starved.”

He jumped up,
tossing the book on the sofa.  “I’ll eat, too.  I’ve never known you to sleep
so late.”

“I guess I was
worn out from the trip.”  They entered the kitchen and requested a light lunch
from Cook.  The proceeded to the dining room and sat down, drinking tea while
they waited for their sandwiches.  “Where is everybody?  Don’t tell me that
Norris is already off to work.”

“No, he and Geoff
went skeet shooting.”

“Skeet shooting?” 
Skeet shooting was a relatively new sport that Norris had taken a liking to
recently.  Laurie wasn’t comfortable with shotguns but Geoff enjoyed the sport
and the opportunity to be outdoors with his father.  “How long ago did they
leave?”

“About an hour or
so.  Geoff said he needed to talk to Norris about something important.”

“Oh,” Rachel said
softly.  “Harvard?”

“He told you?”
Laurie asked in surprise.  “He’s scared to death to tell Norris.  He’s afraid
of disappointing him.”

“In the end,
Norris only wants his children to be happy.  If it’s truly what Geoff wants,
then Norris will agree to it.”  She looked at her brother thoughtfully.  “So,
what about you?  You’ll be leaving soon for your last year.  What are your
plans?  Following Geoff to Harvard?”

He laughed.  “No. 
I do have plans of my own.  I’m not just a shadow of Geoff, you know.”

She laid her hand
on his.  “I’ve never thought that.  So, what are your plans?”

“I’ve been
studying theology.”

“Theology?” she
asked blankly.

“I’ve been meeting
with one of the priests after classes.  He’s an archivist in Boston and I’ve
been helping him translate religious documents.  I like it.”

Rachel this sudden
vision of the hours Norris spent in the chapel, praying fervently as if trying
to wash the sins from the face of the earth.  “Oh, Laurie, I don’t know…”

“What do you need
to know?” he asked calmly.

“Norris’ love of
religion…well, I’m not sure it’s healthy for him-”

“It’s not,” Laurie
interrupted.  “I’ve talked to Father Tom—that’s the priest I work with—about
it.  He said that people can become obsessive, or even addicted, to religion
just as much as alcohol or drugs.  He talked about the flagellants who beat
themselves to avoid the Black Death in the 1400s.  Others have killed in the
name of the Lord, feeling that it’s their responsibility to eradicate evil.”

Rachel’s face fell
as she remembered the morning after Helen and Frederick’s deaths when Norris
had prayed in the chapel, asking for God’s protection instead of forgiveness. 
Laurie didn’t notice her reaction to his words and continued,

“I think it might
be my calling, Rae.”

“Religion?” she
asked, his words pulling her back to the present.  “In what capacity?”

“I’m not sure
yet.  Teaching maybe?  I still have time to figure it out.”

Their sandwiches
arrived and they ate in companionable silence.  Rachel’s mind drifted to Peter
and she wondered what he was doing.  She imagined an invisible thread
connecting her to him and, as she felt a warm flush sweep over her body,
wondered if he was thinking of her at that moment.

“You look happy,”
Laurie commented.  “Happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

She smiled, her
eyes lighting.  “I am happy.”

“Why?” he asked
bluntly.

“What a question,”
she said with a laugh.  “Why shouldn’t I be happy?”

“Why indeed?”  He
took a bite out of his sandwich.  “Do you ever think about Mom and Dad?”

“Only every day,”
she responded.

“I don’t remember
them.  That bothers me a lot.”

“They adored
you…both of us.”

“I’ve been
thinking a lot about them lately.  I mean, they were murdered, Rachel.  That’s
huge.  Why were our parents murdered?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you ever
asked Norris about what he knows about that night?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” 
She felt uncomfortable suddenly.  “He rescued us, you know.”

“I know.”  He
shrugged.  “I was at school and some new kid thought that Geoff and I were brothers. 
He asked why we had different last names.  As I was telling him the story, it
was like I was just reciting a story I had read.  Suddenly, it hit me…my God,
my parents were
murdered.
  Was it a robbery or a vendetta or something
else?”

“We can ask Norris
tonight if you’d like.  I don’t know if he has any answers, but if anyone does
know, it would be him.”

“I was thinking
that Geoff and I have a lot in common.  He’s been talking a lot about his
mother’s murder.  I mean, I know the police think it was an intruder, but he
doesn’t believe it.”

“I know.  He was
asking me about it at the beach.  We got interrupted but...” A feeling of
uneasiness swept over her.  “Where did you say he was?”

Suddenly, there
was a ruckus in the kitchen.  They heard shouting and banging and a scream. 
Rachel and Laurie looked at each other in fear and raced to the kitchen.  The
sight that met their eyes stopped them both in their tracks.  Norris had Geoff
slung over his shoulder and Cook was pushing the big kitchen table clear of
plates and food.  Norris dropped Geoff on the table and Rachel uttered a
scream.

Geoff’s skin was a
deathly gray, his limbs hung uselessly, and there was a spreading pool of blood
on his clothes.  “What is it?” she cried.  “What’s happened?”

Norris looked up
and she saw that his face was frozen in a mask of terror.  His mouth worked
convulsively but no noise came out.  Laurie sprung into action, ordering Cook
to call the doctor.  He raced over to Geoff’s side and pulled his shirt from
his pants.  There was a gaping wound in his abdomen.

“He’s been shot,”
Laurie said in disbelief.  “What happened?”

“I was talking to
him,” Norris said, his voice hoarse and low.  “I had my gun in my hand…it just
went off.  I thought the safety was on, I swear it.”

Rachel moved
leaden feet to stand next to her brother.  She felt for Geoff’s pulse, lowering
her head to his mouth.  “He’s breathing,” she said in relief.  “Shallow, but
he’s breathing.”

Cook turned from
the phone.  “Dr. Miller is coming in an ambulance.  He said to get him into a
bed and try to stop the bleeding.  He shouldn’t lose any more blood, he said.” 
Her hands were shaking.

They followed her
instructions and carried him upstairs to his room.  He made a low grunting
noise as they laid him down.  Smythe had joined them by this point and Rachel
ordered him to bring as many towels as possible.  “We’ve got to stop the
bleeding.”

Laurie ripped off
his own shirt and pressed it to the wound in Geoff’s abdomen.  Although they
knew it must hurt, Geoff made no response.  “Come on, Geoff,” Laurie muttered. 
“Don’t do this.  Hang on for me, brother.”

Rachel stroked
Geoff’s cold, pale face.  “We’re here, Geoff.  The doctor is on his way. 
You’re going to be O.K.”  She looked up at Norris, who stood in the corner of
the room, looking to be in shock.  “Norris, why don’t you sit down?”

He shook his
head.  “Is he dead?” he asked in an almost whisper.

“Don’t say that
word!” she hissed.  “He’s going to be all right.”

“His eyes are
open,” Laurie said.  “Geoff, can you hear us?”

He nodded
slightly.  His crystal blue eyes, just like his father’s, slid to look at
Rachel.  “Rae…” he said, his lips barely moving.  “Journal.”

“Don’t try to
talk, Geoff,” she said.  “Help is on the way.”

Smythe ran in then
with towels, and she traded out Laurie’s blood-soaked shirt for a clean towel. 
“We should call Peter and Maryanne,” Laurie said, staring at his shirt.

“I’ll do it, sir,”
Smythe said.  “Stay with young Mr. Thornton.”

Geoff groaned and
Rachel’s attention was drawn back to him.  “Geoff, try to relax.  Don’t fight. 
I can hear the siren.  Can you hear it?  The doctor will be here in just a
moment.”

He reached up a
bloody hand and grabbed her upper arm.  “Listen…” he said in a weak, barely
there voice.  “Journal.”

“What is he
saying?” Norris said from the corner.  “What did he say?”

“Journal?”  Rachel
shook her head.  “Geoff, I’m sorry.  I don’t know what you mean.”

“Journal,” he
repeated insistently, but the word was slurred now.  His eyes drifted shut and
he made a strange noise in his throat.  Then she heard a long exhale and a few bloody
bubbles came out of his mouth.  Then there was nothing.

“Oh my God,” she cried,
her voice torn from her throat.  “No.  Geoff!  Geoff!”  She shook him by the
shoulders but he didn’t respond.

Laurie sank onto
the bed, his head dropping into his hands.  “No…”

“Is he dead?”
Norris repeated himself.

The doctor ran
into the room just minutes later, ordering everyone out of the way.  Rachel and
Laurie embraced each other, silent sobs shaking their bodies.  She waited for
the words she knew were coming.  Dr. Miller turned from the bed, his hands
covered in Geoff’s blood.

“I’m sorry.  He’s
gone.”

Norris let out an
animal wail then and sank to the ground, covering his head with his arms.  “I’m
sorry,” he cried.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to.  I’m
sorry.”

Rachel knew she
should go to him but his despair was so overwhelming she was afraid to approach
him.  Instead, she and her brother comforted each other.  She glanced over at
Geoff’s still body and felt a wave of anguish.  Was it only just a week ago
that he had asked her about his own mother’s death?  Only a week ago that he
had confided in her about his plans to attend Harvard?  Now, his life had been
cut short, in such a violent manner.  She heard Norris’ cries and the doctor’s
low voice as he tried to comfort the man.

“Journal,” Geoff
had said.  His last word had been “journal.”  What had he meant?

“Mrs. Thornton?”
Smythe asked, gently touching her shoulder. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I wanted to
tell you that Mr. MacGregor and Mr. and Mrs. Corbin are on their way.  I only
told them that there had been an accident involving young Mr. Thornton  They
don’t know…”  His eyes moved to Geoff’s still form.  “They don’t know what’s
happened.”

Rachel nodded
stiffly.  “We should meet them downstairs,” she said.  “I wouldn’t want them to
come in here and see him like this.”

“I’ll call in a
few of the maids with your permission and we can…prepare his body for
viewing.”  He was choosing his words carefully but Rachel could see that he was
struggling with emotion.  Geoff had been loved by all.

“Thank you,
Smythe,” she said.  “Come on, Laurie, we need to go downstairs and wait for the
others.”

Laurie wiped his
eyes and nodded.  “All right.  Norris…?”

“Leave him.  Dr.
Miller will take care of him.”

When Peter,
Maryanne, and Bert entered the house, their faces were lined with worry.  “What
is it?” Maryanne asked immediately, taking in Rachel and Laurie’s bloodied
hands and clothes.  Laurie remained shirtless.  “Smythe said it was serious.”

Peter grasped
Rachel by the shoulders.  “Where is he?” he asked, despondency already in his
eyes.  He could read Rachel’s expression.

“He’s in his
room.”  She reached up and touched Peter’s face.  “I’m sorry,” she cried
softly, her voice breaking.  She looked at Maryanne.  “I’m so sorry.  Geoff
died about half an hour ago.”

“No!” Maryanne
screamed, her body doubling over.  Bert’s arms came around her and he supported
her body as Laurie slid a chair to her.

“What happened?”
Peter asked, pain etched in his face.  His hands trembled as they slid from her
shoulders to upper arms.

“He and Norris
went skeet shooting.  Norris’ gun went off by accident and got Geoff in the
gut,” Laurie relayed tonelessly.  He sat down on the floor next to Maryanne as
if his legs could no longer support him.

“Was he
conscious?” Bert asked.

“Just for a bit.”

“Where’s Daddy?”
Maryanne managed to get out past her tears.

“He’s still
upstairs.  Dr. Miller is there, as well.”

Rachel didn’t go
back up to Geoff’s room the rest of the day.  She sat in the front parlor with
Laurie while the rest of the family went upstairs.  As the day waned, she knew
that Geoff’s body was removed from the house and that Dr. Miller told her that
he had given Norris something to help him sleep.  Peter returned to the parlor in
pulled her into his arms.

“Did he say
anything before he died?”

“Only one word,
journal.”

He pulled away
slightly.  “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.  I
can’t imagine he was thinking clearly.”

Peter sighed and
pulled her to him again.  “I’m going to stay here for the next few days,
through the funeral.  Maryanne and Bert, too.  Bert went home to get the baby
from the neighbor and he’s going to pack bags for all of us.  I don’t want you
to have to do everything by yourself and Norris seems completely out of his
mind.”

“I’m glad.  I wish
you could be with me at night, too.  I don’t know if I can sleep.”

“I’ll stay with
you until you think you can sleep.”

“What about
Blanche?”

“I’ve already
talked to her.  She’ll come to the funeral but I told her to not complicate
things by coming around.  I don’t want to deal with her right now.”

Maryanne wandered
into the room, looking forlorn and lost.  Rachel scooted over on the sofa and
held her hand out to her.  “Come sit with us until Bert gets back.”

Maryanne joined
them, leaning her head on her brother’s shoulder.  “It’s like we’re in a
nightmare.”

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