The First Gardener (14 page)

Sump’n be pressin’ hard in on me this mornin’. Ain’t had no clue what it was, like some ol’ dark cloud done settled hard in on top a me. I tried to pray through it. Tol’ the Lord if there be sump’n he need to tell me, then just go on and tell me. Then I prayed over ever’one I knowed.

I prayed hard. All day while I weedin’ and prunin’ and workin’, I be prayin’ too. When I hug Maddie Mae, I gone and hold on for a few more seconds. And when Miz Mackenzie come out and say hello, I hold her hand a li’l longer too.

Even saw Miz Eugenia this mornin’ and said a prayer for her. Took me a while, though, ’cause first I had to go and ax the Lord to forgive me for all the mean thoughts I already had ’bout her ’fore that clock even got to nine in the mornin’. ’Cause by then she already been nitpickin’ my garden to death.

But I did it. I pray for Eugenia too. Don’t ’member what I pray, but I pray sump’n.

Governor London and his daddy was on my mind too. Was rememberin’ how I used to see ol’ Mr. London come outta his room and sit up there on his balcony. That was back ’fore they had to take him to that home. Sometimes, he just sit there and stare out like he ain’t got no clue he livin’ in the world, and other times he act a fool, like he be shootin’ my boys or sump’n. But sometime he go and give me a smile. And I always used to wave at him, whether he wave back or not. Anyway, that was on my mind today too. I just felt this deep troublin’ down inside a me.

If I had a way to know what this day gon’ hold, I woulda buried my face in the dirt and not come up ’til God done changed his mind. I woulda torn my clothes like them ol’ prophets in the Good Book, not eat one bite a food all day and just keep beggin’ the Lord to change his mind.

I woulda done anything—but don’t know if it woulda worked. I’m thinkin’ God got his mind set. And I don’t know why. Just don’t know why. Alls I know is . . . it is. And it was. And it gon’ be. And we still here. And we all wishin’ we ain’t.

Chapter 14

Gray’s cordovan wing tips moved quietly across the diamond-patterned carpet of the Green Hills Nursing Center. After last night’s call, he felt like he needed to check on his dad before the day started. He turned the corner to his father’s room and was met with a new face. The young blonde looked up from tucking in the edges of his dad’s sheets.

Her blue eyes flashed acknowledgment.

Gray spoke first. “Good morning. I just wanted to drop in and see how he’s doing. Is Harriet off today?”

She wiped her hands against the sides of her print top and moved around from the far side of his dad’s bed. “She comes in later today.” She extended her hand. “I’m Tiffany Beecham. I just started—transferred from a nursing home in Franklin a couple of weeks ago. Harriet is showing me the ropes.”

Gray smiled and shook her hand. Her teeth were strikingly white. She should have been a dental hygienist. He moved toward his dad, who didn’t stir. “Harriet runs a tight ship. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

She laughed. “A tight ship is an understatement.” Her Tennessee accent was thick and kind. “That woman is the best at what she does. I’m sure that is why she is looking after your father.”

Gray turned toward her. “She has looked after Dad for five years now.”

“I know. She’s very fond of him.” She nodded toward the bed.

“How has he been today? I heard he had a rough night.”

She returned to the bed and adjusted the duvet. He noticed the French manicure on her fingernails—at least that was what Mack called it, he thought. Clean-looking and shiny, with white tips. “It takes a couple of days sometimes for new meds to get into the system. He has been sleeping heavily this morning, so I’m going to ask the doctor to look at them again. But you’re right—I heard last night was pretty hard.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m told.” Gray pulled a chair up next to the bed. “He keeps things lively around here.”

“I can assure you, we don’t hurt for entertainment in this place. I’m waiting for someone to write a book about a day in the life of a nursing home. Some author is missing amazing material.”

Their conversation was easy. He’d probably been a little hard on the other staff because he was so fond of Harriet. But this woman made him comfortable, and she seemed to know what she was doing. He reached out and took his dad’s hand. “Mind if I have a few minutes with him?”

“You go right ahead, Governor. Take all the time you need. Let me know if I can get you anything.”

“Thanks, Tiffany. Nice to meet you.”

She nodded and left them alone.

His father’s breathing was heavy and rhythmic. There were days he knew his father would be better off to just “go on to glory,” as his mother used to say. Truth be told, he had never been the same since Gray’s mother died. And when Gray’s brother pretty much disappeared after her funeral—as he had most of his adult life—Gray Senior just seemed to shut down.

But even on the days when Gray thought his dad was dying, at least he still had him here. He could see him. Touch him. He pulled his father’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it. He studied his dad’s face. He hadn’t moved since Gray came into the room. Maybe his medicine did need to be changed, but surely he didn’t need to be comatose. And that was what he seemed like this morning.

“I’ll check with the doctor today, Dad. This is no way to have to live. I promise I’ll do whatever I can.”

His father didn’t respond. Gray wasn’t sure he ever would again.

Chapter 15

If Mackenzie could stop the world on any day and time, it would be Friday afternoons. She and Gray had always loved that time of the week. Before Maddie came, Gray would take off early whenever he could, and they would sneak out to an early movie before high school kids took over the theater. Now they’d added Maddie to the equation and had to go early to avoid Gray’s constituents at the concession line. But this Friday was even more important. This was a celebration of Maddie’s first full week of school and Lola’s first full week as the first lady’s sidekick.

Mackenzie glanced at the doll as her car idled in the school line. She had been dreading this week, but it had turned into such a sweet time. Each season of motherhood had its own joys, and it was so important to savor every minute.

The sound of the door opening thrust her back into the present.

“Mommy, it’s Friday!” Maddie announced.

Mackenzie turned to see that Maddie’s white polo shirt was as dirty as a football player’s white pants after four quarters. “My word, baby girl, did you roll around in the dirt?”

Maddie leaned over the console between the front seats and retrieved Lola from the passenger’s side. “Nope.”

“No, ma’am,” Mackenzie corrected.

“No, ma’am.” Maddie settled back into her seat, holding Lola close. “I just fell chasing Charlie West around the playground.”

Mackenzie chuckled and pulled out from the pickup line. “Charlie West, huh? And who, may I ask, is Charlie West?” Traffic was moving slowly as she drove toward Harding on her way to I-65 and the theater.

“Charlie West is my boyfriend.”

Mackenzie’s eyes widened, but she kept her voice nonchalant as she glanced back. “You have a boyfriend?”

Maddie never looked up; she was fixing Lola’s hair. “Of course. I have lots of ’em.”

“What do you mean, you have lots of them?”

“Mommy, it’s school. There are lots of boys, and they’re all my friends.”

“Oh.” Mackenzie laughed at her own relief as she pulled into the northbound lane of I-65. The drivers around her were pushing the speed limit now, aware that in thirty more minutes the interstate would be a parking lot. Mackenzie fell into rhythm with them. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that Maddie still hadn’t buckled her seat belt. “Maddie, I have told you too many times that buckling your seat belt is the first thing you do when you get in the car. Now, I won’t tell you that again.” She kept her eyes on the rearview mirror.

Maddie gave a humph, tugging at her grubby top and reaching for the seat belt.

Mackenzie raised her right eyebrow. “Don’t get an attitude with me, Madeline. I don’t want to have to turn around and go home because you’re being disrespectful when this is a day worth celebrating.”

Mackenzie returned her attention to the road and gasped to see brake lights directly in front of her. She slammed on her own brakes and glanced in the rearview. An 18-wheeler was approaching her like a bullet.

She tried to swerve into the left-hand lane, but the impact was brutal. She felt the brunt of it on her side as it sent the car spinning. Everything else played in slow motion—the cars swerving to miss her, the trees spinning by on the side of the road, the impact as another car caught her front end and sent her into the concrete median. Her body braced on every side as if it could stop the car’s motion.

When everything finally stopped, she was facing south in a northbound lane. The interstate looked like a parking lot for salvaged scrap. Steam poured out of what remained of her car’s white hood.

She tasted blood but had no idea where it was coming from. The stench of an exploded air bag and the residue of its deployment left her feeling as if she were bathed in an inch of dust, but she felt no pain. She frantically pounded at the release button on her seat belt and noticed blood trickling down her fingers. When the restraint finally gave way, she turned toward the backseat, desperately desiring to see her baby girl’s face. But the seat was empty.

She dug her knees into the hot leather beneath her, threw her body over the console, and grasped at the floorboards in the back. She could feel the screams coming from the base of her throat, but she could no longer hear them. Her world had gone silent. And Maddie wasn’t there. She was nowhere.

Mackenzie looked up and saw the broken window on Maddie’s side. Panic dug its claws in even deeper. She threw her body back over her seat and pushed hard at her door. It wouldn’t move. She propelled her entire weight against it, but it mocked her. She jumped over the panel into the passenger’s seat and grabbed for the door handle. Her hands slipped because of the blood. But she paid no attention as she grabbed for it again and flung her weight against the door. Finally it gave way.

The sun burst into her sight as if it had just awoken. It pounded down on her, almost blinding her. Hands seemed to paw at her as she exited the car. She slapped at them wildly, her eyes frantically searching the sky, then the ground. People shouted, screamed, reached for her. But all she wanted was to find her baby. She tugged her way free, still screaming, and ran down the interstate.

The sun caught a reflection of white in the middle of the asphalt in front of her. The weight of her feet held her, her body unable to move. She lifted her right leg, but it felt heavy with lead. She pushed off on it anyway, forcing it to move, while hands once again tugged at her. She made her left leg follow. It took every ounce of her strength to get where she needed to go.

Lola lay facedown, her hand clutched inside Maddie’s. Mackenzie threw herself on the ground next to her baby’s tiny body. All her screams collided in the base of her throat.

Then there was nothing. The world went black.

And as she slipped away, she begged God to never let her return.

Chapter 16

Kurt’s face registered panic. Gray noticed.

“Gray, you need to come now.”

“What is it?”

“We’ve got to get you in the car now.”

Gray stood unmoving behind his desk. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what it is.”

Fletcher came through the door. The look on his face didn’t go unnoticed by Gray either.

“Tell me now. Are we under attack?”

Kurt’s face shifted. “No, Gray, it’s . . . Mack and Maddie. There’s been a bad accident. We have to get to Vanderbilt now.”

Gray felt a sense of dread rise up inside of him. He instinctively grabbed his suit coat from the back of his leather desk chair and strode toward the door. He noticed everything from that moment on as if each of his senses had been injected with an overdose of adrenaline. Sarah was standing behind her desk in a bright-orange jacket. The smell of coffee was strong in the air, and he even thought he smelled popcorn.

The room was silent. Deathly silent. He noticed that most of all. And Sarah’s eyes—the look in them was haunting. The sound of his shoes connecting with the marble floors as he walked through the door of his offices and headed down the hall thundered like explosions in his head. Sarah’s words bounced toward him. “We’ll be right behind you, Governor.”

The Escalade was running, and he could smell the fumes when they reached the underground parking garage, the air thick and humid in the concrete cave. The car door was already open, and Gray could feel the coolness of the air conditioner before he even got inside. Voices collided against each other from the walkie-talkies of his security detail. Fletcher’s and Kurt’s phones rang almost in unison.

Gray slid across the black leather to the window. Kurt got in beside him.

“Tell me what happened.”

Fletcher turned toward them from the front passenger seat. His words came out disjointed, his eyes darting wildly. “We’re not sure . . . the details . . . just not all in.” He stopped and then looked at Gray. “But it’s bad.”

“I need you to tell me how bad.”

Kurt touched his arm. Gray saw tears in his eyes. “It’s real bad, Gray.” The emotion in his voice was now undeniable. “Maddie . . .” He couldn’t get anything else out.

Gray felt the blood drain from his body. If he hadn’t been sitting, he was certain he would have collapsed. He turned his face toward the window. “Mack?”

“She’s in bad shape. They were taking her straight into surgery.”

Gray kept his gaze out the window as they drove. The sounds of a police siren escorting them to the hospital seemed miles away. People on the streets went by in blurs. But he heard everything inside that car—Fletcher’s sniffling, the vibration of the phone on the seat beside them, and the papers in Kurt’s hands rustling so loudly, it was as if he were crumpling them next to Gray’s ear.