Baby Love (52 page)

              My mother had been entombed in the family crypt at a cemetery in Braxton, Mississippi.

              The silence of our ride back to Baton Rouge was broken when my father spoke for the first time since we had gotten into the limo.

              "I can order an exhumation Tylar.  It is what needs to be done.  You do realize that don't you?"

              "Will it be done for the purpose of opening the metal box?" I asked.

              "Not entirely," he answered.

              I looked over at him as he continued.

              "The metal box might very well contain evidence that will help convict Matthew but we also need forensic evidence.  That type of evidence can only be gathered by having a forensic autopsy conducted."

              "Can they do that after all of this time?" I asked, astonished somewhat at the thought of it.

              "Yes.  Modern embalming methods and advances in forensic technology can help prove the exact cause of her death even after all of this time.  I want your approval though.  You are her next of kin."

              "You have it Dad," I replied, though I knew that in his judicial capacity he could have ordered it without my consent.

              By the time we reached my father's estate Trey had arrived. I saw coming down the stairway as we came into the entrance hall. I flew into his arms.  Dad carried a sleepy Preston up from the limo.  I took her from him and headed upstairs to our suite.  Trey stayed downstairs talking with my father presumably about what we had learned on our trip to Vidalia.

              I changed Preston's diaper and stretched out on the bed with her so that she could nurse comfortably.  Trey joined me in the suite several minutes later.   He sat down on the bed next to us.

              "You've had quite a day it seems," he remarked.

              I nodded not trusting myself to speak for fear I would burst into tears at any moment.

              "You know sweetie, it is okay to feel emotional about this.  You learned some very disturbing things today.  That is why I am here with you now.  You don't have to go through this alone."

              "I know Trey," I sobbed.  "I just don't want to think about what my mother endured because of me."

              "She loved you sweetie.  Would you have done any less for Preston?"

              I looked down at my baby who had fallen asleep cuddled against me.  Trey lifted her from me and carried her into the adjoining nursery.  He placed her in the crib.

              He rejoined me on the bed, pulling me into his lap.  He rested his chin on the top of my head; his strong arms were wrapped tightly around me

              "Tell me what you're feeling baby?"

              "I feel so many things I guess.  I feel sadness for the loss of my mother; I feel anger that Maggie didn't do the one simple thing that my mother had asked her to do."

              "Anything else?"

              Trey knew me so well.

              "Okay yes, there is something else.  I feel sort of angry with my father.  Why in the hell didn't he check on her after he walked out?  If he loved her why didn't he see that she was protected?  My God, he knew the type of man Matthew was at that point."

              "Aren't you a bit angry with your mother?" he asked quietly.

              "Why would I be mad at her?  She was the victim in all of this.  I have no right to be angry with her."

              The tears started rolling down my cheeks as I continued to deny any anger towards my mother.

              "Tylar you have a right to feel however you feel.  Feelings are not right or wrong - they
are what they are."

              He was rocking me gently back and forth in his arms.  I knew that he understood me totally and how I rolled.  I couldn't deny those feelings to him any more than I could deny them to myself.

              "Okay yes then.  I do feel angry with her.  Why didn't she go to my father?  She would be alive today if she had done that.  I just don't get it. She died and left me with Maggie.  It was wrong."

              Trey lifted me up and turned me around to face him.  He gently brushed my tears away with his thumbs.  He leaned over and kissed my cheeks and my nose.  I looked up at him and realized that whatever pain and suffering I had endured along the way to finding him had been worth it.  How could I be mad at anyone for that?

              He tilted my chin upward and kissed me warmly on my lips.  I laced my arms around his neck and kissed him back loving the taste and feel of him.

              We nestled under the covers of the bed tossing our clothes to the floor.  Trey made love to me slowly and sweetly in my father's house.

              I awoke from my nap feeling Trey's arm wrapped around me and feeling someone's eyes on me.

              It was Ms. Deeny.  She was standing at the foot of the bed watching us.  I had no clue as to how long she had been there.  She gave a slight smirk as she saw me looking at her.

              "The judge sent me up to see if you and Mr. Sinclair will be joining him for dinner.  It's in ten minutes," she said turning to leave.

              "Oh I took the liberty of caring for your baby while you and Mr. Sinclair . . . slept."

              She was out the door.  I threw the covers back rousting Trey.  He had napped through the one-way conversation that had just taken place.

              "That gnarled up old bitch," I hissed.

              "Who?"

              "Ms. Deeny, my dad's head of staff.  She was just in here watching us."

              Trey was up and out of bed now putting his clothes back on.  I headed into the bathroom to freshen up.

              "What the hell?  Are you talking about that short lady with the long nose?"

              "Yes and apparently that long nose serves her nosiness well.  She totally gives me the creeps.  I hate the thought that she took Preston out of the nursery."

              "What?"

              "Yeah that's what she said.  Let's hurry up and get downstairs for dinner.  I don't like the idea of her being near the baby."

              "Tylar your dad wouldn't let anything happen to Preston.  My God he is totally infatuated with her."

              When we got downstairs Preston was playing happily on a blanket on the floor with a multitude of toys strewn about. My father was on his phone with someone. She crawled over to Trey as soon as she saw him.

              "Da-da," she said tugging at his pant leg.

              "Yes sweetie," he laughed, scooping her up and kissing her cheek.

              "Da-da has missed you."

              She snuggled up in his arms resting her head against his broad shoulder.  How perfect they looked together.  I looked at my father as he continued talking in hushed tones to someone on the phone.  He was a handsome man as well.  I wondered what it would have been like growing up here with him.

              He ended his phone call and stood up walking towards us.

              "Dinner is being served now.  Tylar I hope you don't mind but I fed Preston some of the pureed food you brought along.  She is very fond of the green beans I discovered."

             
Uh oh.  I hope he didn’t give her the whole jar!

              "Yes dad, that's fine.  What did you give her with the green beans?"

              "Well I had some of that pureed chicken but she clamped her mouth shut when I offered that to her.  She wanted nothing but those green beans.  She finished off the whole jar," he replied chuckling.

              Trey and I exchanged glances.  My father looked from one of us to the other.

              "Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

              "Your honor,  I think you will be assigned diaper dirty for this evening."

              We both snickered leaving Dad perplexed.

              Trey put Preston in her high chair and she was given a graham cracker and some sliced banana.  She was getting pretty good with finger foods.

              Trey held my chair out for me as if he did this all of the time. He noted my look of surprise and gave me a dimpled grin.

              My father told us during dinner that he had been in touch with the state officials in Mississippi as well as some judges he knew in that particular circuit court.  He was expecting things to move quickly.

              Towards the end of the meal Ms. Deeny appeared in the formal dining room informing my father that an important call had come in from Judge Westfield out of Jackson, Mississippi.

              My father excused himself immediately to take the call.  Ms. Deeny lingered in the dining room.  She asked Trey if he needed anything else.

             
Midget bitch!

              She took one of the cloth napkins and started wiping Preston's face that was now smeared with mushed banana and soggy graham cracker crumbs.

              Preston didn't like her touch.  She turned her head away and started fussing. 

              "I can clean her up later Ms. Deeny," I said.

              "No worries," she replied continuing to wipe at Preston's face.  She clearly ignored the fact that it was pissing my baby off royally.

              "There now," she said stepping back.  "That is so much better isn't it little Preston?"

              Preston clutched another banana slice and pressed it up to her mouth ignoring the woman.

              My father came back into the room and thankfully Ms. Deeny took leave carrying some of the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

              "The order of exhumation has been signed by Judge Westfield.  It is scheduled for 1:00 pm tomorrow afternoon," he announced.

              From the kitchen we heard the sound of shattering

china as it hit the floor.

CHAPTER 46

              My father chartered a private plane to fly us from Baton Rouge to Jackson, MS the following day.  Edie was to care for Preston while we were gone.  I had a private conversation with her before we left.  I instructed her to not let Ms. Deeny anywhere near my daughter.

              She had nodded affirmatively and assured me not to worry.  I kissed Preston goodbye telling her we would be back by dinnertime.

              It was early December and there was definitely a chill in the air.  I had dressed in corduroy slacks with a bulky sweater and boots.  The flight took about a half-hour.  Once we landed at the small private airport a limo was waiting to take us to the cemetery in Braxton which was a bit to the south of Jackson.

              I curled up against Trey in the car as the limo made its way up the curving drive of the cemetery finally stopping just past a concrete mausoleum that had the name "Renaud" engraved upon it.

              The day was sunny and slightly breezy.  There was a damp feel to the air.  The trees were bare.  Dried, dead leaves occasionally floated past us as we made our way to the mausoleum and the officials standing there.  A black hearse was parked off to the side on another intersecting driveway.

              My father presented the signed order to the deputy sheriff who was amongst the throng of people  The deputy read through it and then handed it to a man I presumed to be the manager of the cemetery.  This man then instructed a couple of his workers to unlock the heavy, iron door to the mausoleum.  Once opened, we stepped inside.  There was a barred window on the other side of it that allowed sunlight to filter through.  The flooring was concrete.  There looked to be about six marble plates affixed to the fronts of the entombed caskets.  Three rows of two. 

              My mother's parents were entombed there, along with my Renaud great-grandparents.

              My mother's casket was entombed on the end in the top row position.  Her marble memorial plate looked newer than the others. It simply had her name, birth and death year carved on it. It was nothing fancy. The unit below hers was empty. The deputy sheriff observed as the cemetery technician used a special tool to break the seal around the door to my mother's berth.

              I told Trey I needed to go back outside.  The crowded mausoleum was getting to me; I was extremely claustrophobic and I needed fresh air. 

              "Are you okay?" he asked me as I sat down on a concrete bench outside of it.

              "It was musty in there and crowded.  I felt faint for a moment.  I'm fine now."

              He sat down beside me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close.