The Last Original Wife (21 page)

“I love this country,” I said to myself and looked up to see an orderly staring at me.

“Mrs. Carter?”

I stood. “Yes?”

“You can follow me now.”

We went through several sets of swinging doors to the recovery area, and there was Wes, groggy and drifting in and out of sleep. I took his hand in mine.

“Wes? Wes? Can you hear me?”

He nodded his head and then drifted off to sleep again. I stood there for around twenty minutes until a nurse came and checked his blood pressure.

“We're going to move him to a room now. Room 129. We'll meet you there?”

Another nurse or orderly appeared, and the next thing I knew, Wesley was rolling down a hall again.

When I reached the cell-phone area, I called Charlotte and gave her Wes's room number. I found his room, and just as I arrived, so did he. They transferred him from his gurney to the bed and tucked him in neatly. I watched him as he slept and thought about all the trials and tribulations we'd been through together over the years. The truth was there was much more we'd gone through separately. He had not been a particularly attentive father or husband, traveling as he did for business and playing golf when he wasn't traveling. Maybe things might have turned out differently if he'd been around a little more. If he'd been more interested in us, our home might have been happier. But it wasn't fair to blame Wes for the children's performance in life any more than it was fair to blame myself. The
children
were no longer children. Maybe they had not enjoyed an idyllic childhood, but it wasn't so bad. They were well educated and well fed, they had excellent health, and I had always believed that they were good people at heart. Maybe they just needed to be sent to their rooms. Wait, they
were
in their rooms.

Wes slept for another hour, and then I saw his eyes flutter a little.

“Hey, there,” I said. “Everything's okay. You're gonna live.”

“Les? I love you, Les.”

Oh dear, I thought. He was drugged. If only he would say he loved me when he wasn't.

“You just rest now. I'll be right here until the kids come back. They just went home to get your pajamas.”

He didn't hear me. He was already sleeping again.

Soon Charlotte and Bertie came in with Wes's things and took a seat.

“Where's Holly?” I said.

“She's playing with the little girl who used to live next door to us. I told her mother I'd pick her up when we leave.”

“Well, that's good. She needs to be around other children,” I said. “Look, as long as both of you are here, I'm going to go home for a while. Dad's fine so far. Maybe I'll catch a nap.”

I could see that Charlotte was about to object, but then she looked at me, suddenly remembering I'd been up since the crack of dawn.

I guess my age must have been showing on my face because she said, “Don't worry, Mom. You look beat. If anything changes, I'll call you right away.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Bertie said. “Get some rest. We'll call you.”

“If he starts to moan or toss and turn, go get a nurse, okay? Oh, and here's the key to his locker? Maybe one of y'all could go collect his things.”

“No worries,” Bertie said.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at him and I smiled.

Walking down the halls of the hospital, I thought about them again, my two offspring. At the very least, they had some kind of camaraderie. There was the normal push-pull of siblings, but there also was a sweetness between them that I hoped they wouldn't let expire. Someday when I was gone and Wes was gone, they'd only have each other and maybe a spouse and another child or two. That was not exactly a life crawling with relatives and people who ought to love you. Before I returned to Charleston, I'd remind them to cherish each other. And I'd tell them if and when they married, to marry wisely.

When I got home, I couldn't help but be disheartened by the state of the house. How could I sleep? I decided to put in a load of sheets and whites and change Wes's bed. He didn't need to come home to anything but a spotless and completely sanitary bedroom and bathroom. Especially with an incision to heal in such a tender place, an infection was the last thing he needed. So I went to work, wiping down every surface with bleach. I wanted to flip the mattress, but I didn't think it was a good idea to try to do it with my arm, as it was still tender sometimes. I needed Martha. I called her and used my horrific Spanish.

“Martha? Señora Carter aquí. Por favor, Señor Carter es en el hospital.”

“Hospital? No está bien?”

“Sí, no muy bien. Y la casa es terrible. Por favor? You come?”

“Sí, sí. En una hora, okay?”

“Oh! Gracias! Gracias!”

Well, praise God and all his saints. I was so relieved that I put my bones on the guest room bed and fell into a deep sleep. I never even heard her arrive. When I woke up two hours later, I could smell the dryer and what I thought was a roasted chicken. I found her folding towels in the kitchen with Danette. Danette was speaking very animated and loud English. Martha was speaking animated and even louder Spanish or some version of it, and the two were having a wonderful time.

“Hey, you!” Danette said. “I brought supper!”

I gave my friend a hug.

“Oh, gosh! Thank you! And Martha? Thanks for coming.”

“Señora Carter loves Martha,” she said and laughed. “But Martha no love Señor Bertie and Señorita Charlotte and Señor Carter. Too much trabajo!”

“Sí! Es verdad!” I said. “They're too much work. What's cooking? Chicken?”

“Yep, chicken, stuffing, gravy, carrots, and a salad's in the fridge. And there's a chocolate cake for dessert.”

“You are the greatest friend in the world.” I said. “I'm exhausted. You want a cup of coffee?”

“Sure,” she said.

I set up the pot and clicked the start button to let the water drip. As best I could, I explained to Martha what I wanted to do to Wes's room and bathroom. She said
sí
and
no problema
about twenty times, gathered up what she needed to clean, and went upstairs. Soon I heard water running, toilets flushing, then the vacuum sucking the last bits of life out of our old carpet and I knew everything was going to be done exactly as it should.

“So, Wes is okay?”

“Yeah, there was some fluctuation in his blood pressure, so they just wanted to keep him to be sure he's stable. I'm bringing him home tomorrow after lunch.”

“That's great. And how long are you staying?”

“Until he's steady on his feet. End of the week, I think.” I poured two cups for us and put the half-and-half on the table. “Think we could sneak a slice of that cake?”

“You have to have cake with coffee.”

Danette got up and brought it to the table. I took two plates from the cabinet and forks from the drawer. My cake knife was miraculously right where I'd left it. I lifted the cover of her cake carrier. Her carb bomb was completely covered in pecan halves. It smelled so darned good.

“Danette! This is gorgeous! Are you sure we should cut it?”

“Oh, no,” she said, in a bad-girl voice with her hands on her cheeks. “Let's save it for the others.”

“Right,” I said and sliced two healthy pieces for us.

“When are Bertie and Charlotte coming home? I'd love to catch a glimpse of them.”

“Soon, I'd imagine. Charlotte has to pick up Holly from a playdate and give her supper. She's moved home again, you know.”

“Oh, dear. Wes can't be happy about that.”

“Who knows? He probably loves it. Anyway, I guess this real estate market is tougher than it looks. All their stuff is piled up in boxes in the garage and I'm sure that works his nerves. You know how territorial he is.” I sat down and put a forkful of cake in my mouth. It practically melted. “Jeez Louise! Where'd you learn to bake like this?”

“Duncan Hines.” She giggled. “But it's good, right?”

“Yeah, it is! It's delicious!”

“Ha-ha! And how long is Bertie staying?”

“Who knows? I just got here late last night. There hasn't really been any time to talk.”

“Well, I know you're glad to see him. Molly asked me to see if he might like to be a groomsman if he'll be here in September.”

I burst out laughing. “Wait till you see him. He's got dreadlocks down to here.”

“Good grief! Dreadlocks? Maybe he just needs to meet a nice girl.”

“Danette? What in the world would a nice girl want with a boy who looks like Bob Marley?”

“I don't know? A walk on the wild side?”

“Hmmm. I don't like to think about things like that. So what else is new?”

“Well, things are fabulous with Nader.”

“He's great, right?”

“Yeah, he's
really
great. He's smart like anything and he's a gentleman. He's wonderful company, and he tells me I'm pretty.”

“What else could you ask for? I can't wait to meet him.”

“You'll like him.”

“If you like him, I will too. Now, would you like to split another slice of this devilishly good mortal sin?”

“Oh, no. I've got to go home. He's coming at six for dance class tonight. We're learning to tango.”

“Tango? Has Molly met him?”

“She loves him! She invited him to the wedding herself!”

“Wonderful! I knew it! That's why you're taking tango lessons?”

“Why not? And cha-cha!” She stood up and picked up her purse. “Tell the kids I'll see them tomorrow.”

“You're too good!”

“Thanks, Les. So are you.”

I watched her car back out of the driveway. She tooted her horn twice and waved and then she was gone. I turned around and walked back inside my house. Every room was like a museum, every object some reminder of the past. When I returned to Charleston, was there anything I wanted to take with me? Maybe some pictures of the kids, taken when they were young, and the few pieces of my mother's silver I had inherited. Maybe clothes. And my car. Other than that? Wes could have it all. It was just stuff. The only antiques we had of any value were his desk and the rug on his office floor. That figures, I said to myself.

Martha appeared and said, “Finished, Señora.”

I gave her all the cash in my purse and a hug. “Señor Carter no es tu responsibility, Martha. Muchas gracias.”

“Sí, pero, sick? Diferente. If Señora Carter come back, I come back. No come back? I no come back.”

“Sí, sí. Comprendo. Gracias.”

Martha left and I thought I didn't blame her for one second. This house had been a pigsty, and now it smelled like lemon wax. Even Bertie's clothes didn't even smell too bad at all.

Soon everyone was home and ready to eat. I set the table and poured milk for Holly and tea for us.

“How's your father?” I said as we sat down.

“Sleeping like a baby,” Charlotte said.

“Did you wash your hands?” I said to Bertie, without really meaning to insult him.

He looked to the ceiling for guidance and patience.

“I washed mine,” Holly said. “Gammy says you
have
to wash your hands to come to the table.”

“They're clean enough,” Bertie said.

I didn't say one word.

“I'm gonna take a quick trip over there after supper just to check on him,” I said.

“No point in that,” Charlotte said. “They've got him so drugged he won't even know you were there.”

“Exactly,” Bertie said. “Can I have some more gravy?”

“Help yourself,” I said. Bertie gave me a funny look. Did he think I was going to hop like a bunny to serve him? “That's
precisely
why I'm going. Just for your future reference? You should never leave someone alone in the hospital when they've just had surgery. Anything can happen. Especially if they're still unconscious.” I made a mental note to never put my children in charge of my health care.

“Gee, I never thought of that,” Charlotte said.

I just looked at her and hoped she could read my telepathic message, which was,
There are so many things you've never given thought to.

“Dinner is really good, Mom,” Bertie said.

“Danette brought this chicken for us and everything else too, including a delicious chocolate cake.”

“Wow,” Charlotte said, “that was supernice. How's the wedding coming?”

“We need to send a gift, you know. And I want to give a brunch for her the day of the wedding.” I was going to say,
and I hope you'll help me arrange it,
but I didn't want to lay another expectation on her that wouldn't be met.

“When's the wedding? Maybe I'll stick around,” Bertie said. “Hard to believe Molly Stovall is getting married. I still remember her as a kid; you know, freckles and pigtails?”

“Well, for heaven's sake, she's nearly thirty. She's not too young,” I said.

“She's not a kid anymore. That's for sure,” Charlotte said.

“Listen, she's marrying a very talented doctor, and they're going to have a beautiful life.”

“Depends on what you think is beautiful, Mom,” Bertie said.

“Lately, Mom's all about money, little brother.”

“Money is the root of all evil,” Bertie said.

“Solvency is a
good
thing, son. Don't let your sister
ever
convince you otherwise,” I said.

“Can I have cake, please?” Holly said. “I cleaned my plate!”

“Of course you
may,
” I said. I took her plate to the sink to rinse it. “You're a very good girl!” I cut a piece of cake for her and put it on a small plate.

“And I'm not a good boy, Mom? Is that what you're saying?”

“Oooh! Somebody's sensitive,” Charlotte said.