Cemetery Silk. E. Joan Sims
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face but I didn’t want to get any closer. His aftershave was overpowering.
“You’re doing just fine, Mrs. Sterling,” he pronounced. “I can understand your having a delayed reaction to your cousin’s death. You’re such a tower of strength for your family. Dear lady, you need time to do your own grieving. Your granddaughter certainly seems to be healthy enough, as well as your daughter. Let them take care of you for a while. I’m going to prescribe a mild sedative which I urge you to take tonight and at least for the rest of the week.” He waggled his finger at her. “Now quit shaking your pretty little head.”
I knew she hated that as much as she hated being talked down to. Poor Dr. Wallace didn’t know he was cutting his own throat. This was, no doubt, the last time he would be seeing my mother in a professional capacity.
“No one wants to take medicine but sometimes we need it. You must get some rest. Let your little chickens take care of you for a change.”
He smiled pontifically and beamed in my direction. I wanted to go for his throat but I settled for the prescription he held out instead.
Mother thanked him weakly. She was playing Camille to the hilt, and I began to regret that I had ever summoned medical advice. But she only played roles from a position of strength. He had reassured her that her heart was still pumping and all was well. She was feeling better already. God help us for the next few days! The good doctor had given her a mighty weapon: Camille was here to stay.
I decided to have the pharmacy deliver the sedative instead of taking time to shower, change, and drive downtown for it. I needed some rest and quiet, too.
I got rid of Dr. Wallace and paid off the delivery boy at almost the same time. Mother took the pills in a limp hand. She made quite a show of having trouble swallowing them, but she did snuggle back in her pillows and get comfortable almost immediately falling into a deep and restful sleep.
I stayed a few more minutes to make sure she was all right and then headed toward my room and a long hot shower.
The afternoon had turned as grey as our mood and the evening brought clouds and rain. I could hear the loud boom of thunder in the distance even under the shower. By the time I finished bathing, the temperature had dropped enough to make my wet skin stand up in goose bumps.
I hurried out of the bathroom and searched quickly through the walnut chest. I found a pair of old flannel pajamas and a sweatshirt and shrugged them on gratefully. I was hopping on one foot and pulling a thick sock on the other when Cassie tapped at the door.
The blessed child had a tray of steaming hot cream of tomato soup with cheese melted on top. It was her favorite meal. We turned the gas logs on low and sat on the rug in front of the hearth happily slurping soup and dunking Saltines in the melted cheese.
“I looked in on Gran before I came. She’s fine. Her color is back to normal, and she’s sleeping quietly.”
“Thanks, Cassie. I really appreciate the supper, too.”
I sat back and leaned against the ottoman and patted my stomach.
“Just what the doctor ordered.”
We looked at each other and laughed. We laughed and laughed, and then we laughed some more. I finally held up my hands in surrender.
“Stop,” I gasped. “Please let’s stop or I’ll upchuck my soup.”
Since Cass was eight months old and had her first giggle fit, she and I had to agree to stop laughing together, for neither could stop while the other continued.
She wiped her eyes on a paper napkin.
“What a creep! Where did he go to medical school? Mom, you have to promise me! If I ever get sick here, you will take me out of town to the doctor!”
“Only if you make me the same promise!”
We shook hands solemnly and sat back to gaze in the fire. The thunder was getting closer, but from long experience with late summer storms here on the farm we could tell by the sound that it would be moving farther north of us. The heavy rain would most likely fall all night but there would be no dangerous high winds. The outside work would have to be put off until the grass was dry, so tomorrow would be a day to work inside. I would encourage Mother to stay in bed so I could have my way with her house. Maybe even move some furniture around. My mood began to improve even more.
The room was warm and cozy, the low flames of the gas logs the only source of light, giving the room a soft rosy glow. I pulled a pillow off the bed and Cassie lay her head down on it in my lap. I stroked her dark hair gently back from her pale forehead and let my mind wander.
“You don’t think Gran really believes William was murdered, do you?” she asked echoing my thoughts as she often did. “I mean, I hate that creep Dibber, but that would be just too awful.”
I thought for a moment of what I could say to put her mind at rest. It was instinct, a mother’s desire to make the nightmares go away. The truth was I could not believe it myself. I knew Mother didn’t really believe it either, or she would insist that we go to the police.
“Of course not, sweetie. Nobody has killed anybody. It’s just too bad that we didn’t realize what was happening to William. He seemed normal over the phone, but he must have been going downhill really fast. His so-called ‘dear friend and neighbor’ just took advantage of a sick old man whose family was too busy to visit him often enough. We have some blame in this, too, you know.”
She sighed, “I know. I could have written more often. And I only called him once last semester. He seemed so grateful. Poor old thing, he must have been so lonely after Abigail’s death.”
She sniffed and wiped her nose on her pajama sleeve. I kept my mouth shut, unlike my mother. Besides, that is what washing machines were for.
“Do you think he knew how much we loved him? He didn’t mention us in the will at all. Don’t you think that was odd? I mean you and Auntie Vel were like their own children to them, at least I always thought so.”
“I thought so too, Munchkin.”
It was now time for my waterworks to begin. Oh what the hell, what was good for her nose was good for mine, too. I wiped.
There were just too many sad imponderables about this whole situation. I held her for a long moment and vowed not to ever again leave love undeclared. Might as well start now.
“I love you, Cass. You are the most wonderful daughter in the world.”
She laughed softly in my hair.
“I love you, too, Mommy.”
It had been a long time since I had heard that. I went to bed happy that night in spite of everything. Ain’t love grand?
The next morning I was up at six o’clock and raring to go despite the fact that I had gotten up twice during the night to check on Mother. This farm life was agreeing with me. I had twice the energy and stamina I had a month ago, and I had actually lost seven pounds! I could stand a few more months of this life. Too bad I had to return to New York so soon.
I vowed to make the most of the next two days. I would see that the house was in good shape, and try to help Mother line up someone to help outside until Billy was back on his feet. More importantly, I would make Mother divulge her financial situation to me and arrange to help her.
Cassie was still asleep when I tapped on her door, but she mumbled in agreement when I whispered that breakfast would be ready in fifteen minutes.
Mother was still not stirring so I let her sleep on while I put the kettle on for tea. I searched the pantry for something yummy and easy to prepare. I finally decided that pancakes would be perfect, and blueberry pancakes would be even better. I blessed those wonderful little people who create mixes. In ten minutes the pancakes were coming off the griddle, and the tea was brewing in Mother’s squat and ugly little Brown Betty. Mother always says it’s the only teapot one can truly count on.
I arranged a cup of hot