Talk of the Town (17 page)

The next day was Wednesday. Louise awoke with the funniest feeling of happiness and contentment, and then remembered that Wendell had come home. No wonder she felt good. Today would have been two weeks since his disappearance.

She showered and dressed, layering a toast-colored cardigan over her beige blouse.The weather had been unusually warm for the beginning of April, but first thing in the morning it could be quite nippy.

Leaving her room, she headed for the stairs. One flight down, she paused on the second floor landing. Someone was coughing and coughing.

She walked down the hall and knocked on Maxwell’s door. “Maxwell?”

“Louise? I’m all right. Don’t worry about me. I’m just going to rest all day as Alice suggested.”

Louise hesitated. He sounded quite breathless. But he had said he was going to rest, and she supposed he’d phone the doctor himself if he began to feel really ill. “All right,” she finally called. “Let us know if you need us.”

“I will. Could you please tell Jane that I won’t be having breakfast?”

Louise hesitated. Weren’t you supposed to feed a cold and starve a fever? She wasn’t sure not eating was what Maxwell really needed. Finally, she said, “Yes, certainly. I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you.” He sounded as if he already was drifting back into slumber.

But as she continued down the steps to the first floor, she still could hear the harsh sound of coughing following her.

In the kitchen, Jane was fussing over a delicious-looking fruit plate. She looked up as Louise entered. “Good morning, Louie.”

“Good morning, Janie.” She smiled when her sister’s head came up with a jerk.

Jane eyed her for a moment. “Does this mean we have to start calling Alice ‘Ali’?”

Louise shuddered. “Heavens, I hope not.” Then she remembered her errand. “Oh, Maxwell asked me to tell you he isn’t coming down to breakfast. Jane, he still has that horrid cough.”

Jane sighed. “I know. I heard him when I came down earlier. What do you think we should do?”

“I’m not sure there’s anything we
can
do unless he asks for help. He’s of age. We can’t call his parents.”

“Just watch me,” warned Jane. “If he gets much sicker, he may not get a choice.”

“If he gets much sicker, he’s going to be beyond caring whom we call,” Louise predicted. “The mother in me cringes to think of my child’s being ill and alone among strangers.”

“But he hasn’t got a mother,” Jane pointed out, “and he doesn’t seem to think his father is too interested in where he is or what he’s doing, as long as he doesn’t cause any trouble.”

“Well, he has us,” Louise said. “Let’s ask Alice to check on him later. We’ll just have to keep a close eye on him until he shakes whatever bug he’s got.”

Clothilda was scheduled to return from her bus tour Wednesday evening. Alice had to work an evening shift and would not be home until nearly eleven and Jane was baking something for the next day’s breakfast, so Louise volunteered to pick up their guest in Potterston.

As she drove to the shopping center where the bus would arrive, Louise sighed happily. Wendell was home, safe and sound. She was a few minutes early, so she drove around the neighborhood where she and her sisters had spent so many hours calling the cat. She stopped at every place she knew they had put up a poster and took it down.

Then she drove to the shopping center. The bus had not arrived yet, so she hurried into the grocery store. As she’d looked at Wendell this morning, she thought he seemed so terribly thin. Who was to know if she bought a little box of cat treats and hid them in her room? If she fed him, say, two a day, that might help to fatten him up again faster.

Feeling sneaky, she purchased the treats and squirreled them away in her handbag once she was back in the car.

In a few minutes, the bus pulled in. Stopping near the back of the lot in a wide-open area, the driver opened the doors and passengers began to exit. While the passengers searched for familiar faces or dug for car keys, the driver and the tour guide unloaded suitcases and lined them up in a neat row along the sidewalk.

“Louise. Hello.” Clothilda waved at Louise with her customary zeal, dragging her red leather wheeled suitcase along behind her.

“Hello,” Louise responded. “The car is right over here.”

With Clothilda and her luggage safely stowed in the car, Louise began the short trip back to Acorn Hill.

“Ah,” sighed Clothilda. “I am good to be back.”

Louise suppressed a smile. Clothilda’s interesting use of the English language never failed to amuse her. “It is good to have you back, as well.” Her voice rose. “We had a surprise while you were away.”

“What was it? I cannot guess.”

“Our cat Wendell came home.”

Clothilda looked delighted. “How wonderful! You must be so happy.”

“We are.” Louise went on to relate the story of Wendell’s return.

“How wonderful this is.” Clothilda beamed. “Jane and Alice must be very happy also.”

“Oh, they are. Jane is eager for you to get home. I believe she has been enjoying your jaunts around the area.”

“Jaunts? What are these jaunts?”

“Ah, travels. Short trips. Short
fun
trips.”

Clothilda chuckled. “This is right. We have fun when we are on these jaunts.”

“What will you do in your search for your ancestors this week?”

“We will go back to everywhere we have been and look for Mullers with a
u
. And we will begin asking everyone we meet if they know anyone by this name.”

“I’m sure you’ll find one sooner or later.”

“Sooner is better,” Clothilda told her, her sunny smile fading. “Later is bad. I must return to home in one more week. I must find Mullers before then.”

She sounded oddly insistent. Louise wondered what could be so important about finding distant relatives but felt it would be impolite to ask.

When Maxwell did not come down for breakfast again on Thursday morning, Alice said, “Do you think we should check on him? I barely heard a peep out of him yesterday.”

“He’s still coughing a lot,” Louise added. “You probably were the last one to see him, Alice. How did he seem to you?”

“Sick,” said Alice frankly. “I looked in on him right after lunch, and again before I went to bed. I suggested that he see a doctor for the cough, but he said he might do it in a day or two if he doesn’t soon feel better.” She spread her hands helplessly. “I can’t force him to take action.”

Jane set down her spoon. “That coughing sounds so terrible,” she agreed. “If he isn’t down by the time we’re done eating, I definitely think we should check on him again.”

“You know,” said Alice thoughtfully, “Now that I think about it, I didn’t see him leave the inn at all yesterday.”

Jane was beginning to look very worried. “I took him some soup at lunch time, but I’m ashamed to say I didn’t keep track of him after that. I didn’t see him go out to dinner, either. Did you, Louise?”

Louise shook her head. “No. After my morning visit, I did not speak to him or see him again.” She picked up her napkin and delicately patted her mouth. “I’m not going to be able to eat another bite until we check on him.”

“Good.” Alice leaped to her feet. “I feel the same way.”

All three sisters set their plates aside, even though none of them was finished completely. Alice led the way up the stairs.

They paused in the hallway outside the young man’s door. Alice raised her fist and knocked gently on the door. “Maxwell?”

There was no answer.

She knocked again, quite a bit more firmly. Across the hall, Clothilda opened her door, wearing a blue robe. “
Was ist es?
”

“Sorry to have awakened you. We are afraid Maxwell may be ill,” Jane told her.

Clothilda nodded. “Good to check. I hear him, ah,
husten
… cough?”

“Coughing.” Jane nodded.

“I hear him coughing all the night. It does not sound good.”

Really alarmed now, Alice stared at her sisters. “What shall we do?”

Louise reached out and turned the knob. The door opened.

The four women looked at each other.

“Maxwell?” Alice called in a loud, firm voice. “Maxwell, can you hear me? It’s Alice. I am going to enter your room.”

She waited a moment, hoping against hope that he would respond. But when she heard nothing, she hesitantly pushed the door ajar. “Oh no,” she said as she caught a glimpse of the supine figure lying in the pale cream antiqued bedstead.

Alice rushed into the room, the other three women crowding in behind her. “Maxwell. Maxwell, wake up. It’s Alice.”

The young man moved lethargically and turned his head toward her. “Alice?” His voice was a mere croak and his face was flushed a dark, unhealthy color that intensified when his chest heaved in another deep, wracking cough. When the coughing spell ended, he was breathing in shallow gasps. “My back hurts,” he said through chattering teeth. “My chest hurts. Everything hurts.”

“I imagine it does.” With gentle fingers, Alice tested his forehead and then lifted his wrist and began taking his pulse, holding her wrist up with its watch with the large face and easy-to-read second hand. “He’s feverish, confused, shaking with chills, and I’m concerned about his breathing,” she said to the others, who had followed her in and were anxiously gathered around. “And I suspect he’s very dehydrated.”

“Shall I call 911?” asked Jane.

Alice nodded. “I think you’d better. I doubt he can walk steadily, and none of us is going to be able to carry him if he goes down.”

Jane vanished immediately.

“What shall I do?” asked Louise.

“Make sure the front door is unlocked for the paramedics. Get me a glass of water. Find his robe and some slippers or socks and shoes, and maybe a change of clothes or pajamas. See if he has a toothbrush and a razor we could bring along. And look for his wallet and check for his insurance card and complete identification.”

Clothilda headed for the bathroom. “I get these things, then look for socks.”

“All right. I’ll get the water, unlock the door and find a bag to put his things in,” Louise said.

In a few minutes, the women had a small bag with Maxwell’s personal effects stored inside. Alice sat on the edge of the bed and propped up Maxwell to give him a drink, which he swallowed weakly but eagerly.

“Ah,” he whispered. “Feels good.”

“We’re taking you to the hospital,” Alice told him.

His eyes widened. “No, I—”

“Have no choice,” she finished. “If you have pneumonia, you may need antibiotics. You definitely need fluids. I can’t do those things here.”

Jane called up the stairs. “The ambulance is here. Is he ready?”

“Bring them up,” Louise called down to her.

Chapter Fifteen

I
n a matter of minutes, men and women in jackets emblazoned with the rescue squad’s logo arrived. They efficiently assessed the young man’s condition, covered him with a blanket, moved him onto a stretcher and maneuvered him down the stairs and out to the waiting vehicle.

Alice stood by the stretcher as they got ready to load Maxwell. He looked terribly young and defenseless lying there, and she felt a surge of maternal concern. “I’ll be right behind you in my car.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The last things she heard were the slamming shut of the heavy doors and the sound of Maxwell coughing.

“Alice!”

Alice turned to see Louise pulling out in her Cadillac from the driveway.

“Come on.” Louise waved something at her. “I have your jacket and purse. Jane’s going to stay here and get Clothilda some breakfast, and then she’ll join us.”

Alice ran to the vehicle.

“I can’t believe we didn’t realize how sick Maxwell was getting,” Louise said grimly.

“He hid it well,” Alice said wearily. “I didn’t like the sound of that cough, but he was adamant that I not call anyone for him.”

“He has pneumonia, doesn’t he?”

Alice, ever the responsible nurse, said, “I can’t diagnose, of course, but I’m afraid he might.”

Several hours later, Maxwell was installed in a private room at the Potterston hospital. As Alice had suspected, he was diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia after a chest X-ray. Laboratory tests had determined exactly which bacteria were responsible and the appropriate antibiotics to combat them were added to the intravenous fluids he was receiving. He was given acetaminophen to bring down his fever and extra oxygen through tubes in his nose.

The doctor did not want to suppress his coughing because he felt it would help to clear out the infection from his lungs, so Alice sat at his side, rubbing his back each time he suffered through a painful coughing spell.

Louise dealt with the insurance paperwork in short order, and she insisted on checking to see if a private room was covered. “Everyone knows people often get sicker in hospitals,” she declared. “The fewer germs he is exposed to, the better. No offense,” she said hastily to Alice.

“None taken.” Alice smiled wanly. Maxwell’s decline had scared her more than she wanted to admit. She was quite relieved to have him in competent medical hands. Additionally, she was feeling guilty for letting him get so sick in the first place.

Louise had called Jane after the initial diagnosis to let her know that he would be admitted. Now she said to Alice, “Would you like some coffee—no, wait, you drink tea.”

The small slip told Alice that Louise also was shaken. “I would love some tea,” Alice replied.

“All right. I’ll be back shortly with your drink.” She checked her watch. “Then I’m going to slip down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. When I return, perhaps you can go down for a few minutes.”

“Perhaps.” Alice wanted to see Maxwell get a little more comfortable before she left him.

Louise brought Alice her tea and then left again. Maxwell seemed to be resting a little better at last. She had just finished the tea when a person filled the doorway of his hospital room.

“Kenneth!” Alice was delighted to see Rev. Kenneth Thompson. “Hello. How did you know we were here?”

He smiled as he advanced into the room. “Actually, I didn’t know you were here. I saw Maxwell’s name on the roster when I came to do my parishioner visits, and I thought I’d stop in and see what was up.”

“Oh, you remembered him from church.”

“Not only that, but we met for lunch in the Coffee Shop last week,” Kenneth said. He moved to the bedside and laid a hand over the young man’s. “Hello, Maxwell. What’s going on here?”

“Pneumonia,” the patient said. His voice was raspy from all the coughing. “Alice is taking care of me.”

Kenneth smiled over at Alice. “She’s very good at that.”

Alice slipped out of the room for a moment while the two men conversed. She could hear the rise and fall of their voices, and after a few moments, Kenneth poked his head out of the room and said, “Alice, if you’d like to join us, we’re going to spend a moment in prayer.”

“Certainly.” Alice returned and moved to the far side of the bed. She took Maxwell’s free hand, and then Kenneth’s as he stretched it across the young man so they made a circle.

“Dear Father in heaven, we ask that You restore Maxwell to full health and vigor. Help his body overcome this illness. We ask You to bless Maxwell as he continues his newly begun faith journey, regardless of where studies or work may take him. Thank You, Lord, for the gift of Your Son, Jesus Christ, who sacrificed Himself in Your name that we might be saved.”

Alice’s eyes popped open. Sacrifice! Tea! She’d completely forgotten about her Lenten vow.

“All this in Your name we pray. Amen,” said Kenneth.

“Amen,” echoed Alice and Maxwell.

After the minister left, Maxwell said, “Alice, I have to talk to you.” His voice sounded curiously urgent.

“Yes?”

“It’s about the Bigfoot tracks. I—”

“I’m back.” Louise reentered the room. “Alice, you can run down to the cafeteria now. I can sit with Maxwell while you eat.”

“All right. Thank you. I won’t be long.” She turned to Maxwell. “Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to talk over the next few days.”

Louise followed her out into the hallway. “Alice,” she said in a stage whisper. She waved a piece of paper. “I found this in Maxwell’s wallet.”

“What is it?” Alice took the piece of paper.

“It’s his father’s contact information. I haven’t done anything with it, but I think we should let the man know his son is in the hospital.”

Alice nodded. “I know Maxwell wouldn’t want us to contact his father, but I agree with you. The man should be notified.” She sighed. “I’ll do it right now.”

Louise heaved a sigh. “Thank you. I can’t stop thinking about how I would feel if that were Cynthia and I knew nothing about it.”

Alice wasn’t surprised to see the glimmer of a tear in Louise’s eye. Her elder sister was formidable, but there was a very soft heart underneath that ever-so-capable exterior. She nodded. “His father should know. I’ll try to contact him now.”

“Hello, my name is Alice Howard. May I speak to Maxwell Vandermitton, please?”

“Mr. Vandermitton is on a conference call and has asked not to be interrupted.” The female voice was pleasant but firm. “May I take a message and have him return your call?”

Alice frowned as she considered the woman’s words. “Yes, I suppose so, but you may want to give him this message promptly. His son has been a guest at my family’s bed-and-breakfast for the past two weeks. He has become very ill and this morning was hospitalized with pneumonia.”

“Oh my goodness! That’s just terrible. Miss … Howard, was it? Let me get your name and number and I’ll see if he can talk to you.” said the woman.

Alice, feeling somewhat relieved by the woman’s obvious concern, relayed the information and repeated what she knew about Maxwell.

“May I put you on hold for a moment?”

“Certainly.”

Alice waited through a soothing spate of elevator music. Suddenly, a connection opened again and a gruff male voice barked, “What’s going on with my son?”

Alice was taken aback, first by the lack of any greeting and second by the accusatory tone of voice. She explained who she was again and told him what she had told the assistant. “He did not ask me to contact you but I felt you should know, Mr. Vandermitton.”

“Right, right. Glad you called. How sick is the boy?”

“He has bacterial pneumonia, sir. His breathing is somewhat compromised, but he’s on an antibiotic now that should take care of it in a few days.”

“So he’s not in danger of… anything?”

“Nothing lasting.”
Except parental neglect.

“All right.” There was a pause, as if Mr. Vandermitton did not know what to say next. “Tell him I’m sorry to hear he’s sick,” he barked at Alice, “and tell him to give me a call when he gets out of the hospital.”

Alice was so horrified that, for a moment, she could not summon words.

“Thank you for the call,” the man added belatedly.

“Mr. Vandermitton!” Alice rarely got angry but she was working hard to rein in the unkind words that wanted to spring forth.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mr. Vandermitton, your son needs you.”

“I thought you said he’s going to get better.”

“He is. But that doesn’t matter one little bit to his heart. You’ve been ignoring him for years.”

“I… ignoring him? Miss Howard, I assure you my son does not want me at his bedside. He’s gone to school practically year round, claimed work through holidays, to avoid me.”

“That’s almost exactly what he says about you.”

“Look,” Maxwell’s father said with a weary note in his voice, “I made mistakes with Max when he was little. Losing his mother was very difficult for me. As a child, he looked a great deal like her. It was hard to see him and be reminded of what I had lost. I shoulder the blame for the distance that grew between us, but it’s too late to fix it now.”

“He felt more than distance,” Alice said. “Being shuffled off to camps every summer gave him little opportunity to develop any kind of relationship with you.”

“I traveled a great deal. I didn’t want to leave him alone with a nanny all summer. I thought he’d enjoy being with other children.” There was genuine shock and regret in the man’s voice now. “Was that a mistake?”

“Sir,” said Alice quietly. “My sisters and I have spent time over the past two weeks with your son. He is a lovely young man, but he is very lonely. Please reconsider coming to see him. I know it would mean a great deal.”

“I—I will.” He sounded subdued now.

Alice gave him the hospital’s location, said good-bye and gently hung up the telephone. Her heart was racing. She’d never chastised anyone over the telephone before. It felt as if she’d done something very wrong. And yet, she had not known any other way to approach the man.
You did the best you could, Alice
. Whether or not her words would have any effect remained to be seen.

She took a seat in a corner of the waiting room. Before she went down for lunch, she thought perhaps it would be good for her to pray.