The House (3 page)

Three weeks after they met on that cold, damp winter night in San Francisco, she and Edward began sleeping together. Anna had barely entered the spring semester of her junior year when she had placed her breast in his hands. Edward had settled his lips to hers, she supping, and he drinking to his fill from the river of unmet needs rising between them.

“I’m pulling out,” he had said between kisses. He’d been refer ring to his decision to quit working for a San Francisco real estate company that had employed him since graduating college. The owner of the firm, a Jewish man who had escaped Germany during World War II, had mentored Edward during the last twelve months. Three weeks earlier Edward had received his license to sell real estate under his own name.

“Don’t,” Anna had not been speaking of the company. Edward plunged deeper into her, his life source feeding her desires and sealing their moment of closeness.

In the aftermath of their lovemaking, he explained. “I grew up not knowing what meal would be my last, and afraid that we wouldn’t survive. Every day Mama came home with almost as little as she had when she left that morning. Seems like the rent was always due. She was always handing over her checks to the landlord. We had no bank account. What little money, if any was left, went for food.” The icy stoicism that had caught Anna’s attention and drawn her to Edward overtook him. His body appeared to go hard like an arrow. He clinched his jaw. “She worked for a doctor, cleaned his office, and the offices of the other doctors.” Edward seemed sad. Then a bitter anger arose. “She was also his mistress, the doctor who hired her. He gave her drugs, prescriptions, to keep her going. She loved him.”

The stimulants and relaxants Violet Manning received from the doctor delivered a semblance of balance in a world that was strewn with poverty, disrespect, and overwork, yet it never allowed her to reach a plateau of freedom.

“He got her other cleaning jobs. That’s how we made it.” The light that had burned in Edward’s amber pupils from moments earlier when discussing plans for his real estate business drained from his eyes. Anna felt death sliding over her body. Craving to escape her mother, she reached for Edward’s hand, drew up the covers, and nudged into his chest. She kissed him. He entered her again. The more Anna received of Edward, the more she wanted. And so it continued until Anna’s graduation.

Anna and Edward had been seeing each other for a nearly a year and a half when Anna graduated college. Anna’s parents had headed back to their car once the commencement services were finished. It was Mother’s Day 1972 and Anna’s heart was full of determination not to return to where she had started. An ache spread through her chest as she walked with Edward. He had sat in a different section of the stadium away from Elena and Reverend Elijah during the graduation services. He would be driving her home to meet them in an hour.

Anna had given herself to this man and revealed her vulnerability. With no job prospects, she would be dependent on her parents, something she hadn’t thought of when committing to art history as her major. Still wearing her graduation gown, and with cap in hand, she said, “Where do we go from here?”

“There’s not much I can offer you.” Edward pocketed his hands and angled the heel of his right shoe toward the pavement. “I’m not what you think.”

“I can’t go back there,” Anna said, speaking of home. “I won’t.”

“With this degree,” Edward opened her diploma and perused it, “You could do a lot with a house.”

Like turn it into a museum? Anna silently mused. Or make it a home. She had loved studying the art treasures of Rome, Greece, and Northern Africa and the masterpieces housed in the Louvre of Paris and other museums around Europe.

“I’m not your father,” Edward said. “I’m immunized against poverty. I may die poor, but it won’t be because I haven’t tried.” Anna quelled the cautious excitement pouring into her stomach. “I’ll give you a home,” he said. “No matter what it takes.”

We all need a show of affection, devotion, a home
. Elena’s words would remain alive long after Anna introduced Edward to her parents. Throughout her marriage, with Edward away on long business trips, she would recall her determination not to return to living with her parents.

Chapter 4

A young man with the name Dr. Grimes embroidered above the pocket of his white coat entered the hospital room.

“This is my oncologist,” Edward said.

Anna stood and extended her hand. “Anna Manning. Edward’s wife.”

“Paul Grimes. Pleased to meet you.” The young physician’s eyes glittered with surprise. He glanced down upon Edward lying in bed, and then back to Anna. “Will you be helping Edward in the coming weeks?”

“It’s time for you to go, Grimes,” Edward barked.

“As your physician, Mr. Manning, I have to ask these questions.”

“Don’t try that shit with me.
Mr. Manning
is for an old man. I’m not dead yet.” Edward threw back the covers, swung his legs around, and placed both feet on the floor. “You’ll get the answers when I give them.” The contradiction Edward exhibited toward being called Mr. Manning surprised Anna.

“Okay, Edward, let’s talk about what the next couple of months are going to be like in that—”

Edward stood. “You may be knowledgeable in what you’re doing, but one thing you seemed to have forgotten, Dr. Grimes, is that this is still
my life
.” Edward poked his forefinger on his chest pointing to himself. “These next few months are
mine.
”

“I don’t think he meant it that way,” Anna chided Edward.

“The only way he can help me is to continue my chemo. And since he won’t do that—” Edward brushed past Grimes and headed for the closet.

“Where will you go?” the young oncologist asked.

“I sure as hell won’t die here.” Edward began pulling his clothes from the hangers.

“Contrary to what you may think,” Grimes said on approaching Edward, “I care about my patients, each and every one of them. I want to know what’s going to happen to them once they leave the hospital.”

“You mean you feel guilty for having failed at your job, giving me the death slip,” Edward said.

“Mr. Manning,
Edward
, the chemo is not working.” The oncologist spoke to Edward’s back.

“I said I’d pay for more.” Edward turned from dressing; fear shadowed the amber hue of his eyes. Edward was fighting a battle that neither his money nor his craftiness or expertise could help him win. “I can’t give the order for more chemo,” Grimes said. “I won’t.” Edward clinched his fist.

“Your system can’t tolerate another round,” Grimes said. “The chemotherapy is robbing you of valuable time. You may have already lost weeks. It’s killing you.” The oncologist’s shoulders slumped.

A solemn silence overtook the room. Like Bryce and all young men who worked under Edward Manning, Dr. Grimes had submitted himself as one of Edward’s followers. He revered Edward as a god. Now life had summoned the deity from his pedestal to enter the world of mortals.

What can I ever say to David and Theo?
Anna pondered
.
Outside Edward’s hospital room, Grimes explained the prognosis. “Mrs. Manning, your husband—”

“Please call me Anna.”

A faint smile stole upon Grimes’ lips. The name tag above the pocket covering his heart seemed to pulsate. “Anna, your husband is dying from advanced stage gall bladder cancer.”

“How much time does he have?”

“Five months at the most, six if we’re lucky,” Grimes said.

It was then late August. Anna took in a deep breath. Her heart settled.

“In my estimation, three is your safest bet for clearing up all financial and emotional matters.”

Anna’s hands grew cold. She felt even more nauseated. She looked at the nameplate beside the doorway,
Edward Manning,
then glimpsed at Edward back in the hospital room. He was fully dressed and ready to leave.

“This is hard work you do,” she said to Grimes.

“Patients like your husband are the worst.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I was married to him for over thirty years.” Anna fought back tears with a bitter smile.

“I thought you were still married.” Grimes frowned. “You said you were his wife.”

“Technically, I am. We’ve been undergoing divorce proceedings for the last year.” Anna glanced at her watch. Two-thirty. Henderson would be filing the papers at 3 P.M. She needed to call him.

“I appreciate your honesty.” Anna ended the conversation and started back to Edward’s room.

“Anna,” the young oncologist called after her, “what I said about Edward being the most difficult of patients—I didn’t mean that in a negative way.” He walked toward her. “People like your husband have fight, spirit, and gumption. They’re willing to work with their doctor.” A misty sheen slid over Grimes’ dark eyes. His brown face took on a sad glow. “But despite everything, I can’t save them.”

“I know.” Anna touched Dr. Grimes’ hand and left.

Nurses whisked past Anna as she moved in stride with the family members of other patients and continued toward the end of the corridor. Reaching an alcove, she sat on the couch and dialed Henderson.

“I was worried,” he answered when Anna spoke.

“I’m here at the hospital with Edward.”

“Hospital?”

“It’s a long story. No, in fact, it’s quite short. Edward is dying of cancer.”

Henderson’s silence revealed his shock.

“I don’t want you to file the divorce papers,” she said.

“Are you sure about this?”

“No. But I don’t want you to fight me. You still have the papers?”

“I do.”

“And you can file them any time?”

“Whenever you ask, but Anna—”

“Then, that’s the way I want it. Don’t tell Bryce. Don’t tell Edward. Not even the children.”

Bryce stood as Anna reentered Edward’s room. Edward was sitting on the bed. Bryce and Edward were eyeing each other, waiting for the other to speak the next words in this futile battle.

“I should be on my way,” Edward’s young apprentice said. He appeared more frustrated than ever. “I have a couple of papers to file at the courthouse.”

“Would that be Edward’s will and trust?” Anna said. Bryce glanced over at Edward who had begun fumbling with his tie. Receiving no response, Anna said, “There’ll be time for that later I suppose.” Anna shuddered. A chill overtook her as she considered her words.

Bryce sighed and left. Edward unzipped the black duffel holding his clothes.

Anna closed the door, slid a chair to the bed, and sat. “Well, what do you want to do?” She interwove her fingers.

“For now, leave this place.” He let go of the zipper of his duffel. “No one here seems to be willing or able to help me.” He turned to the window across the room.

Joining him, Anna looked through the window to the garden beyond. A ring of stones encircled a bed of violets. Their bright purple petals shimmered in the Northern California sun now past its zenith.

“They’re beautiful,” Anna said.

“Hmmm.”

“Looks like the garden that was outside my room at Hammond. It held geraniums,” Anna said. “I promised myself after the birth of each one of the children that when I got home I’d plant some flowers, geraniums, roses, irises, pansies, whatever.” She knew nothing about flowers or planting other than how to adore them. “A bed of flowers for each of the children, each with its own type.”

“What stopped you?”

“Time. Never had enough. Someone always needed their braces tightened. There was a soccer match I needed to drive them to. Or a violin recital.” Anna cringed at the thought of pain her children would feel when learning their father was dying. “I committed to giving,” she said.

“It’s your nature.”

And yours was to take. Anna’s heart pounded with the thought, old angers fuming to the surface. A wash of memories flooded her. I was a fool. I endured sleepless nights alone at home with the kids while Edward was in South America wining and dining the women he’d romped and played with. He was their greatest monarch.

Edward zipped his bag closed.

“What are you going to do?” She rephrased the question.

“I won’t die here. Not in this hospital.” The look in Edward’s eyes became that of a little boy, not unlike David on the many occasions when Edward had been away and he asked, “Mommy, why are you crying? Do you miss Daddy? Why isn’t he here? When I grow up, I’m never going to let you cry.”

Minutes later Dr. Grimes returned. A young woman in a long, white coat accompanied him.

“Edward, Anna. This is Mrs. Reid, the hospice liaison,” Grimes said. “She’s going to talk to Edward about his plans at home.”

“That’s easy,” Edward said. “I live in a two-bedroom apartment. I figure I’ll pay someone to come in when I ...”

“It’s not that simple, Mr. ...” she thumbed through the papers in her hand.

“Manning,” Edward said. “Edward Manning.”

Anna stood and offered the hospice worker her chair. She went outside. Grimes followed.