Trouble Don’t Last Always (11 page)

“I need you,” he almost blurted. Instead he stood, bringing Eleanor with him. “Lilly is here and you need to eat. I promised Kristen.”

The lines of annoyance radiating across her forehead cleared. “I know. We talked this morning. You were a good friend to Randolph and now to us.”

Randolph’s name pricked something deep and sensitive within Jonathan’s soul. He wanted Eleanor to see him as a man, not as the best friend of her dead husband. That she might never do so sent a deep shaft of pain and misery through him. Involuntarily his fingers tightened on her arm; his other hand closed around her free arm, bringing her closer to him.

The hardness that swept across Jonathan’s face made Eleanor want to run away and, at the same time, lift her hand to the hard line of his jaw to soothe him. Confused, her hands closed more firmly on the paint set between them.

“Mrs. Wakefield, are you all right?”

Jonathan’s and Eleanor’s startled gazes jerked sideways. Lilly, her face full of anger, stared at Jonathan.

Dropping one hand, Jonathan said, “Why wouldn’t she be?”

Instead of answering, Lilly looked at Mrs. Wakefield. “Are you all right?”

“Why, yes,” Eleanor finally answered, trying to smile, but her facial muscles were stiff. Not sure what had just happened between them, but realizing that whatever it was Lilly had picked up on it also, she stepped away from Jonathan and off the porch onto the paved walkway. “Is Adam all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lilly’s gaze flickered to Dr. Delacroix, then came to rest on Eleanor, whose breathing was rapid and cheeks flushed. Then it hit Lilly. Fear wouldn’t cause her cheeks to flush. Desire or embarrassment would. Lilly’s own cheeks burned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t,” Jonathan answered, folding his arms and bracing his shoulder against the arbor. “I was just trying to get Eleanor to have brunch with me.”

That’s not all he was trying to do,
Lilly thought. But since she didn’t see fear in Mrs. Wakefield’s eyes, it was their business. Lilly’s business was keeping her job.

“I’ve been reading in one of Dr. Wakefield’s medical books about patients’ reactions to sudden blindness, their depression, their fear, how it’s important to normalize their life as soon as possible.” Moistening her dry lips, Lilly shifted from one tennis-shoe-shod foot to the other. “I looked in the yellow pages and there’s a Lighthouse for the Blind in Shreveport. I was thinking maybe they could help.”

Eleanor briefly closed her eyes. When they opened they were full of pain. Her voice trembled when she said, “Orientation and Mobility was suggested to Adam to acquaint him with his surroundings when he was released from the hospital. He refused to have the training because he insisted he didn’t need it because his vision would return.”

Blinking tears from her eyes, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I went along with him because I didn’t want him to think I’d lost faith.”

She peered over her shoulder at Jonathan. “I guess I should have listened to you.”

Jonathan went to stand by Eleanor, his narrowed gaze on Lilly. “Very astute observation and ingenious on your part.” He glanced down at Eleanor. “I guess you were right to hire her. But Lilly points up an important fact. Perhaps we need someone with experience to care for Adam.”

Lilly’s burgeoning happiness took a nosedive; then she did something totally out of character for her. “I may not be experienced, but I got him to eat and clean up. No one else has been able to do that.”

Jonathan lifted a heavy brow at her defensive tone. The gesture was enough to make Lilly remember the influence he had with the Wakefields.

Her voice softened, but the conviction remained. “With the right help, I can do more.”

“I’ll contact the Lighthouse tomorrow,” Eleanor said, excitement in her voice. “Anything else?”

“Maybe you could send for some of his clothes. Washable pants and pullover shirts. It would be nice if there was a table in his room for him to eat on, a way to tell time, books on tape, and one of those battery-operated tape recorders with big control buttons. Puffy paint?”

“Puffy paint?” Eleanor and Jonathan repeated in unison.

“To mark the tags in his clothes and his toilet articles so he can distinguish them.” She ordered herself not to fidget under their intense stares. “That’s how it was done in the textbook.”

“I’ll call Kristen and ask her to send his things overnight.” Eleanor shook her head. “He said his housekeeper was sending the rest of his things. I’m beginning to wonder since they aren’t here.”

“Then he’ll be happy when they arrive,” Lilly said, straight-faced.

Eleanor’s lips curved. “Won’t he? Thank you for caring, Lilly. Excuse me; I’ll go call Kristen.” The front door closed behind her.

Lilly turned to go.

“Lilly?” Jonathan called softly.

Clutching the book to her chest, she made herself face him.

“I want what’s best for Adam. If that’s you, good. If not, then we get someone else. Are we clear?”

“Very.” Turning, Lilly started back to the main house, her mind troubled, her steps slow. One hurdle down, one to go.

Odette and Samuel were returning tomorrow.

Eleanor was nervous.

In all the long years of her association with Jonathan, she’d felt many emotions while with him, but nervousness had never been one of them. As she sat beside him while he maneuvered the Mercedes through the surprisingly heavy Sunday traffic at the shopping mall in Shreveport, her thoughts were troubled. She kept her gaze forward.

When she’d gone inside to call Kristen, she’d actually felt relief to be away from Jonathan. If there had been any way of getting out of him taking her shopping for Adam, she would have grabbed at the chance. As it was, she was trapped in the car beside him, unsettled and unsure.

What had happened between them just before Lilly arrived at the cottage?

Hell, Eleanor,
she chided herself, as she seemed unable to keep from looking at Jonathan’s strong, chiseled profile as he patiently waited for a woman to store the several packages scattered around her feet in the trunk of her car so he could park in her space,
you are not that naive.
There had been a spark of awareness between them. Sudden, sharp, and powerful.

And totally unexpected. It had rattled her, and her stomach had yet to settle.

Obviously it had meant nothing to him. On the drive from Adam’s house to the shopping mall thirty minutes away, Jonathan’s easygoing demeanor was the same as it always was. He remained the same good old reliable Jonathan she had grown to depend on more and more over the years.

Leaning back against the smooth leather seat, Eleanor was grateful he had chosen to ignore whatever it was that had caused them to react so strongly to each other. No doubt it was due to the stress they both were under. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be allowed to happen again. Adam and Kristen had to be her main concern, her only concern.

Finally the woman got in her car and backed out. Jonathan pulled into the parking space, cut the motor, then unbuckled his seat belt. “I’m glad she wasn’t shopping with another woman or we might have been waiting until the mall closed.”

“Women are selective. Men just grab,” Eleanor said. The instant the words were out of her mouth, Eleanor felt the slow roll in her stomach again and quickly busied herself with her seat belt. “It shouldn’t take too long to get the things on Lilly’s list; then I want to return.”

“What about lunch and your canvases?”

“Maybe another time.” Opening the door, Eleanor got out of the car.

Eleanor was a master shopper and she used her skill to quickly purchase the list of items for Adam. But always, always she was aware of Jonathan’s presence, the heat from his body, his disturbing gaze. By the time they returned to the car, she was even more on edge and not looking forward in the least to the thirty-minute drive back to Wakefield Manor.

He’d done it now.

Eleanor was skittish and nervous around him, and it was his own fault. She’d jumped each time he had even casually brushed up against her while they were shopping. He hadn’t dared try to take her arm as he usually did when they were out.

He had already guessed that the only reason she’d consented to letting him take her shopping instead of driving herself was that she hadn’t been able to think of a gracious way out. In all things, Eleanor was a lady. At the moment, the lady wanted nothing to do with him.

All his fault.

He shouldn’t have grabbed. It hadn’t been the right time. Hell, he didn’t know if there would ever be a right time, but at least he’d had her friendship. Now, he wasn’t sure if he’d still have that.

Turning into the driveway of Adam’s house, he tried to think of something to say to break the silence that had plagued them since they had gotten back into the car, but nothing came. As before, as soon as he braked, she was out of the car. He watched her practically run up the walkway.

Gritting his teeth, he got out and reached in the backseat for the bags. She was waiting for him at the door, her smile overly bright and strained. “Thank you, Jonathan, for taking me shopping. You must have a million things to do on a Sunday. I’ll take the packages so you can be on your way.”

He stared down into Eleanor’s tense face, seeing the narrow line of her compressed lips, the nervous fluttering of the pulse in her neck as she stood in her doorway strategically blocking his entrance. One at a time, he handed her the two bags. “Anytime.”

“I’ll just go put my purse down and take these straight to Lilly.”

Jonathan knew a brush-off when he heard it. “If you need me, call.”

“I’ll be fine. I shouldn’t bother you so much.”

His eyes narrowed. It was all he could do not to snarl. “Adam is your son, but he’s my godson and I love him, too. Call if either of you need anything.”

The bright smile wavered, firmed. “I will. Good-bye.”

The door closed with a quiet click. As he walked to his car, Jonathan had the distinct impression that there would be no calls. Eleanor had just shut him out of her life and he had no one to blame but himself.

Eleanor waited until she saw Jonathan drive off before she left the cottage. She wasn’t proud of herself. She’d never run from anything or turned her back on a friend before. Today she’d done both.

Nearing the house, she stared up at the window to Adam’s room and wondered if she might have to amend her earlier statement. Had she run from the truth that Adam’s blindness might be permanent and, in doing so, let him continue to cling to a false hope that was destroying him day by day?

“Mrs. Wakefield.”

Eleanor glanced around to see Lilly sitting beneath one of the huge oak trees near the back door to the kitchen.
She’s too thin,
Eleanor thought, noticing with a discerning eye the way the wind shaped the cotton dress to Lilly’s slender frame. The possibilities were there. Waiting. She just needed a touch of makeup and the right clothes to bring them out, just as the right words were needed to bring Adam out of his shell.

“Is everything all right?” Lilly asked.

“Yes.” Eleanor continued across the lawn. “Here are the things you wanted.”

Automatically Lilly took the bags. “Would you like to come inside for a cup of coffee?”

“No, thank you. I told Adam I was leaving the house and technically I am, since he gave me the cottage. A minor point, but one that I feel is necessary. So unless something is extremely important, we’ll keep in touch by phone,” Eleanor said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Eleanor nodded toward one of the bags. “Adam is a big mystery fan. I picked up a couple of books on tape he should enjoy. If you think of anything else, please let me know.”

“I will.”

“Odette and Samuel should arrive early tomorrow morning. I’ve left a message on their answering machine to call me tonight no matter how late it is when they arrive home. I’ll explain the entire situation to them.”

Lilly’s fingers dented the paper sack. “You don’t think they’ll mind me being here, do you?”

“No. From my experience with them, there’s not a mean or territorial bone in their bodies. From the first, they’ve been wonderful to Adam. He trusts them so much they have a household account so they don’t have to call him about every little thing they need to ensure the house is cared for.”

“How long have they worked for him?”

“Five years. They were here when Adam bought the house. He bought it shortly after his father’s death.”

“You’re widowed?” Lilly asked.

“Yes.” Eleanor fingered the diamond ring on her finger. “Randolph and I shared thirty-nine wonderful years together. I miss him still.”

“You’re one of the lucky couples to have found love,” Lilly said, wondering what being loved by a man you loved must feel like.

“Yes, it was. Were you ever married?”

“No.” Lilly didn’t consider it a lie. Whatever there had been between her and Myron, it certainly hadn’t been a marriage.

“Well, I guess I’ll get back; I want to call Kristen.” She started to leave, then paused. “I wish you could have known Adam before. He was arrogant, but fair. He demanded the best of himself and those who worked with him. He loved life and did everything in his power to ensure that those he cared for were given the best possible care. He had a wicked sense of humor and a mean backhand on the racquetball court.”

Lilly had already met the arrogant side of Dr. Wakefield. “Maybe I’ll see that side of him one day.”

“Yes. Good-bye.” This time when Mrs. Wakefield turned away, she kept going.

“Good-bye.”

Lilly watched her disappear around a large evergreen shrub. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Mrs. Wakefield had more on her mind than her son. Adam’s mother had appeared distracted, and although Lilly had known the older woman for only a short time, she didn’t think that was usual. Lilly hoped the reason wasn’t Dr. Delacroix. Now there was another arrogant man, and if he had his way, she might be looking for another job soon.

She just had to make sure she stayed.

Lilly was about to face another hurdle.

Standing in front of the high arched window in the entryway a few minutes before eight Monday morning, Lilly nervously rubbed her hand against the side of her leg. Despite Mrs. Wakefield’s growing confidence, Dr. Wakefield’s and Dr. Delacroix’s warnings had kept Lilly up most of the night.

Mrs. Wakefield might keep her on despite the men’s objections, but they could make her life miserable. She wasn’t sure she could work where she wasn’t wanted. Being subjected to Myron’s scorn for six long years was enough for a lifetime. The best thing that could happen was that the men wanted her and approved of her staying. If Samuel and Odette liked her, their support would go a long way in helping her stay.

She had to keep this job and remain off the highway. She’d already called the garage and received the very bad news that the oil pump needed replacing. The bill was already $600, and the man had said it was likely to go up if they found any more problems.

She’d been fuming when she’d hung up the phone. The car had had no oil. Myron had said he’d taken the car in for an oil change three weeks ago. She should have known he was lying. He’d been angry about the car since Mother Crawford had told him that she was giving Lilly her Ford Taurus and putting it in her name.

Myron was an accomplished liar and manipulator. There was no telling what story he might have cooked up to get the police to look for her. He’d be filled with rage at her for leaving, but even more so for her putting him in a bad light in the church and community.

As usual, it would be her fault and not his.

If she could manage to stay for two weeks, surely she’d have enough money to find a job and a place to live. Maybe even in Shreveport. Little Elm was barely a dot and it had a junior college. In a city as large as the one she had passed through there had to be a host of colleges where she could finish her associate degree in business administration.

She’d always be thankful to Mother Crawford for getting Myron to let her attend classes at the junior college while Mother Crawford was at the community center with the other senior citizens. Lilly’s mother-in-law had believed in education and in women being able to care for themselves. She’d had to struggle with Myron and his two older brothers after their father died from complications of diabetes. Mother Crawford had learned firsthand what it was to have a low-paying job and hungry children to feed.

When she saw a late-model car turn into the drive, Lilly’s heart rate increased. What if they didn’t like her? Mrs. Wakefield and Dr. Wakefield had spoken highly of the couple. If they didn’t like her, Lilly might be out on her ear today.

Taking a steadying breath, she opened the beveled door and stepped out on the porch just in time to see the big black Buick pass. Tentatively Lilly walked to the edge of the porch by the rattan swing, debating if she should wait or go meet them. A car door slammed, quickly followed by another.

Hands clasped, she waited for the couple to come around the front of the house. When minutes ticked by and they didn’t appear, she realized her mistake. They had gone through the side door just as she had the first time she entered the house. Reentering the house, she saw a man and a woman climbing the staircase. The man wore a denim shirt and overalls, the woman a white cotton uniform. His right hand cupped her elbow.

Lilly hurried after them. “Mr. and Mrs. Tucker?”

The couple turned, their brown faces lined with worry.

“Yes, ma’am,” the elderly man answered. “I’m Samuel Tucker and this is my wife, Odette. You must be Miss Crawford. Mrs. Wakefield told us about you when we called last night.”

90

“We’ve been expecting you,” Lilly said, then added hopefully, “I was hired to take care of Dr. Wakefield.”

Silent tears ran down Odette’s plump cheeks. “I still can’t believe that terrible thing happened to Dr. Wakefield.”

Samuel’s long arm circled his wife’s shoulders. “Don’t start up again. Mrs. Wakefield said we were to act natural.”

Odette shook her turban-covered head. “I don’t know if I can. The doctor was such a good man. He never did nothing for this to happen to him.”

“You got to try, Odette.” Samuel looked at Lilly. “Ain’t that right, Miss Crawford?”

Lilly didn’t know what to say. They were both staring at her as if she were the expert when she was struggling herself. Knowing
what
should be done wasn’t the same as knowing how it should be done. She gave them the only truth she knew: “Dr. Wakefield doesn’t want to be treated any differently than before.”

Dragging a crumpled white handkerchief from her pocket, Odette dried her eyes, then shoved the cloth back inside. From the rumpled appearance of the handkerchief, it had been used many times that morning. “If that’s what Dr. Wakefield wants, then that’s the way it’s gonna be. We’ll just go on up and pay our respects.”

“You can’t do that,” Lilly blurted.

Both frowned down at her. Samuel spoke first, “You think he wouldn’t want to see, I mean…I meant ...” he floundered, glancing at his wife for help. Dragging out her handkerchief again, she wiped away fresh tears.

Seeing the misery on their faces, Lilly admitted her failure. “His room’s not clean. He won’t let me clean it.”

Odette stared at her as if she had lost her mind. “But that man is one of the neatest men I know. Always wants things just so.”

“Never seen a man change clothes so many times or take so many baths,” Samuel recalled. “He didn’t mind hard work, but he’d always come inside afterward to clean up.”

“It’s different now,” Lily told them, searching for the right words much as Samuel had done earlier. “It’s like playing blind man’s bluff, and you’re turned around and around with the blindfold and it’s hard to keep your balance and get your bearing. Only Dr. Wakefield can’t remove the blindfold.”

Odette nodded. “Brother Callahan was the same way when he went blind after that accident. Stays inside now. Never see him at the store or at church anymore, and he used to be an usher you could always depend on.”

Lilly didn’t say a word, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Dr. Wakefield would end up the same way if his sight didn’t return. The thought made her feel sick.

“If I had known the doctor wasn’t doing well we would have cut our trip short and come back early,” Samuel said. “I mentioned that to him last week when he called, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said we deserved the vacation.”

So Dr. Wakefield could be kind and considerate, just not to her. “His family cared for him until they hired me. There was nothing more you could have done for him.”

“I suppose, but I kinda still wish we had come back. If it hadn’t been for Dr. Wakefield we might not have had a fiftieth anniversary.” Samuel again curved his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

Odette’s hand covered his and gently patted it. “I got sugar. Went to three or four doctors and they all thought I was some crazy black woman going through the change.” She snorted and shook her head in disgust. “Dr. Wake-field came home when I was at my wits’ end, thinking I had cancer. Samuel thought the same. Dr. Wakefield drove us to the emergency room and told the doctor he thought it was my sugar. The blood tests proved he was right. I took great pleasure in sending the lab results to those other quacks.”

Lilly tried to reconcile the irate man she knew now with what she was hearing from a woman who had no reason to paint him in a good light. “I understand he was a very well-known doctor.”

“I’m alive today because of Dr. Wakefield,” Odette said emphatically. “There ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

“Same here. Come on, Odette; let’s go on up.” Samuel grasped his wife’s arm, then glanced back at Lilly. “You’re coming, Miss Crawford?”

She didn’t want to, but from the way they were looking at her, they expected her to accompany them. If she wanted them and Dr. Delacroix to see her as Dr. Wakefield’s caregiver, she had to act that way. “Of course.”

Lilly’s legs felt as if her shoes were made of lead as she followed the Tuckers up the staircase. The kind, caring Dr. Wakefield they knew was gone, and in his place was an angry, unpredictable man who wanted to be left alone. She’d be lucky if he didn’t fire her on the spot.

The Tuckers paused in front of their employer’s door and turned in unison toward Lilly, who was several steps behind. Since they gave no indication that they were going to knock, Lilly realized they were waiting for her to do so. Apparently they had accepted her as Dr. Wakefield’s caregiver and planned on following her lead.

Giving the worried couple a wan smile, Lilly stepped in front of the door and knocked, praying Dr. Wakefield wouldn’t ignore them or, worse, open the door and fire her. “Dr. Wakefield? Mr. and Mrs. Tucker are here. They came up to say good morning.” Silence.

Dread slithered down her spine. “Dr. Wakefield?”

“Coming.”

The gruff voice surprised Lilly. He’d spoken only once through the door. Either he couldn’t wait to greet the Tuckers again or he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.

The door opened by slow degrees. Dr. Wakefield stood to one side, revealing only a hand-span width of his face and body. He wore what could probably pass for a smile in bad light, one of the shirts Lilly had washed and pressed and the jeans he had on Sunday. His hair was combed, but his beard badly needed shaping. “Hello, Samuel. Odette.”

The couple’s eyes widened as they took in the changes in the man they hadn’t seen since his blindness. Uncertain, they glanced at each other, then back at Dr. Wakefield.

“Morning, Dr. Wakefield,” Samuel greeted him, sticking out his hand only to snatch it back in embarrassment.

“Morning, Dr. Wake—” That was as far as Odette got before the tears started again. “I’m sorry.” Her voice hitched. “I–I just can’t help it.”

Adam’s fingers on the door frame tightened.

Lilly felt the situation deteriorating and jumped in to help. “Mr. and Mrs. Tucker came up as soon as they arrived,” she said, trying to get the conversation going again.

“If we had known how much you needed us, we’d have come back sooner,” Samuel said.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Dr. Wakefield. Samuel and I will take care of the place just like we always have.”

Adam flinched.

“Why don’t we go downstairs and get acquainted?” Lilly suggested.

Odette frowned at her. “Don’t you need to stay up here?”

“No!” Adam shouted.

Odette jumped; her weathered face crumpled. She reached for her soggy handkerchief.

“Dr. Wakefield prefers his privacy. Besides, I need to start lunch and wash the bed linen,” Lilly said.

“Don’t worry about lunch. Dr. Wakefield has always loved my boiled shrimp.” Odette beamed, sure of herself in this at least. “Won’t be no bother to peel them for him.”

Lilly helplessly watched Adam withdraw moment by moment. “How about a jambalaya? That way both of you will be saved the task I always disliked. Is that all right with you, Dr. Wakefield?”

“Yes. Excuse me.” His face a rigid mask, he closed the door.

Odette teared up. “I said all the wrong things.”

Lilly placed her hand around the trembling shoulder of the older woman. “Showing love and compassion is never wrong. It has to be difficult for you and his family. I didn’t know him before, so I have no expectations.”

“He was always up when we arrived and in the kitchen, coffee made, waiting for me to cook breakfast while he read the paper or one of his medical journals.” Odette’s round face saddened. “He was a fine man.”

Odette’s reference to Dr. Wakefield in the past tense, as if he were dead, disturbed Lilly. “His blindness doesn’t make him less of a man. His actions do that.”

“But he was a neurosurgeon,” Odette reminded her.

“He can’t perform neurosurgery, but that doesn’t mean his life is over; it means it takes a different direction,” Lilly said, thinking of the new direction in her own life. “The first step is regaining his pride and independence.”

“How do we help?” Samuel asked.

“By letting him know he’s not totally helpless.”

“Like letting him peel his shrimp?” Samuel asked slowly.

“If it comes to that,” Lilly said, then continued, “But I have a confession to make. I need help myself in fixing the jambalaya.”

Odette immediately perked up. “You come with me, child, and I’ll show you. We’ll have Dr. Wakefield smacking his lips and asking for more.” With that, Odette started back downstairs.

Samuel twisted his straw hat in his hands. “Can I speak with you a minute, Miss Crawford?”

“Of course,” she told him, trying to keep the fear from her face. “Please call me Lilly.”

The older man nodded his gray head. “Thank you for helping my wife.”

The tension eased out of her. “I’ve stood in Odette’s shoes,” Lilly admitted ruefully. Unfortunately, she probably would be there again.

“All I can say is that I’m glad you’re here.”

She finally smiled. “So am I.” She just hoped she could stay.

He was batting a thousand.

How many more mistakes could he make? How could he have forgotten how emotional Odette was? Perhaps because his housekeeper in San Francisco had been a practical woman whose only concern was that her paycheck be on time. Since she was efficient and trustworthy, kept his house immaculate, was a fairly decent cook, and left him alone after his blindness, they’d gotten along fine.

Odette was a hoverer and worrier. She meant well, but she’d drive both of them crazy within a day. There was no way he could let her care for him. She probably had it in her head to try to pay him back for his help in diagnosing her diabetes. There was no need. Doctors were dedicated to heal, but they weren’t infallible. They made mistakes.

He prayed daily that his case wasn’t one of those mistakes, that waiting was the right decision, that the new studies on going past the three weeks and allowing the vitreous hemorrhage to dissolve rather than operating and possibly damaging the optic nerve or causing retinal detachment were sound. In the meantime, what did he do about a replacement for Odette?

He had a feeling that if Jonathan had anything to do with hiring a replacement, his choice would probably be a retired nurse who was inflexible, pushy, and a royal pain in the gluteus maximus.