Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (113 page)

“There is nothing you need to say,” I said
abruptly and released his hand. “I will get you a bowl of Hazel’s
healing soup and be right back.”

“Lillian,” he called out in a short, wispy
breath.

“No arguing. I know what you are worried
about, but I am well enough to look after you.”

He again allowed his tired lids to close over
his somnolent eyes and tried to smile, but his lips were so dry
they instantly cracked.

As soon as I was outside, I took a long
awaited breath. I didn’t want Heath to see my concern; he didn’t
need be to made aware of how troubled I truly was.

Hazel was elated when I came into the kitchen
for soup. “I knew you would make all the difference,” she said,
dipping the spoon into the giant pot. “Through his feverish state
he has been calling for you,” she added, without looking my
way.

“I know this isn’t an easy time for you; I’m
sorry about your loss,” I said solemnly, without addressing her
remark about Heath.

She carefully handed me the bowl of hot soup.
“There isn’t a thing I can do to change what happened. A new life
will come when God sees fit. There are things in life we can’t do
anything about, and then there are things we can do everything
about. Take this to him and make him well. He has held out long
enough, the foolish man that he is. He will wait a lifetime for
you,” she whispered secretively into my ear. I timidly turned and
locked eyes with hers. Hazel wasn’t exactly book smart, and there
were times when her forthrightness shocked and appalled me.
However, this time her candidness was spoken out of sincere
thoughtfulness and consideration and laced with acute
significance.

“It’s not what you think. I would do the same
for any of you,” I replied softly, hoping she wasn’t aware of how
fast my heart raced.

She placed her hand on my wrist as we both
gazed down at the soup that was about to spill over. “Steady. Don’t
want to spill the soup before you get it to him.”

I laughed nervously, and then took small,
steady steps until I turned the corner, where I was blocked by the
side of the house and out of her view. Then I took a few minutes to
recover from what she’d revealed, and composed myself, putting the
vision of Heath tossing and turning, crying out for me, out of my
mind. I didn’t want to know any of that. I was only going to make
him well. I would do that for anyone, even Sylvia. We were all
family, as Ayden said.

With my composure in place, I brought myself
back into Heath’s quarters and gently woke him. It was difficult to
watch him struggle. I helped prop him up just enough so the soup
would glide down his throat and not dribble down his chin. I kept a
cloth tucked in the collar of his nightshirt, which he insisted I
remove. “I’m not a baby,” he muttered and went to pull it out.

“You certainly are acting like one,” I said
sharply and tucked it back in even further.

“This is silly,” he groaned.

“Just stop fighting me, Heath. The sooner you
resign yourself to the fact you are sick - very sick - and need
help, the sooner you will get better.”

“You are still just as stubborn as when you
were a young girl,” he said weakly.

I smiled, happy to know he remembered.
“That’s right, Heath. You know what I’m like if I don’t get my
way,” I said playfully. That caused him chuckle, which in turn
caused more and more coughing. I soothed him by rubbing his back,
the way Ayden had briefly done for me.

“In a few days you will be feeling better.
Hazel’s soup must have magic powders in it,” I said. I sat down for
a moment in the small chair beside the bed and poured a small glass
of water and dipped my finger far enough in to gather a few
droplets, then gently placed them along his dry lips. Heath stared
up at me, drinking me in. His breathing was slow and shallow and so
tight it only moved a few strands of hair that lingered near his
face as I leaned over. “There, that’s a bit better,” I said, and
awkwardly pulled back.

“Lillian?”

“Yes?” I replied, sitting back down. He took
my hand in his and I instantly noticed the momentous concern on his
weary face.

“I have something I need to tell you. I was
going to tell you when we returned from the mainland on the night
of the storm.” He was struggling too much to speak, and I worried
he would start choking.

“Tell me when you feel better.”

“It’s important,” he said with pleading eyes.
“I need you to listen.”

“Not now.” I anxiously stood up. “I’m going
to gather books, and I will read to you until you fall asleep. And,
even after you fall asleep, I will still read.”

Just then, to my relief, Mary appeared. It
wasn’t unusual for any of the Cooper children to be hidden around a
corner. As long as it wasn’t Sylvia, I was delighted to see
them.

“Mary, sweet Mary. Come in and sit with
Doctor Heath while I go find him a few of his favorite books.” I
pulled her into the room and sat her down, not allowing myself to
look at Heath. “Recite one of your rhymes, Mary.”

Mary loved to sing songs and recite nursery
rhymes. Her face lit up at my suggestion and after properly
adjusting her dress so it fanned out around her dangling little
legs, she went right into it. “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall . .
.”

I was quiet so as not to wake Ayden when I
passed his bedroom, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when the
door flew open.

“Ayden!”

“There you are. I had just stopped in to see
you, but you were gone and your bed was made. I didn’t realize you
were up and about,” he said, greeting me with a light kiss on the
cheek after closing the door quickly behind him.

“If you would have come to see me more
regularly . . .”

Ayden threw his hands up in surrender.
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m here to make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me?”

“I remember how you wanted me to take a few
days off, and now your wish has been granted,” he said with a
handsome grin and came to hold me.

I was stunned. I couldn’t have ever guessed
Ayden would come around and take time off from his duties.

“We can go on a short honeymoon. I have put
some money aside, just for the occasion. I know I have been a fool
lately. Give me a chance to make it up to you. We can go anywhere.
Name the place. It doesn‘t matter where we go, as long as I get you
all to myself,” he murmured into my ear. Ayden’s actions and
emotions were as unpredictable as the weather, and left me
confused. He sensed my uncertainty as I pulled back. “You do feel
well enough to travel, don’t you?”

“Heath.”

“What about him?” he said with subtle
annoyance.

“Someone has to look after him. He is very
sick. If you weren’t always so wrapped up with your duties . .
.”

“I’ve been over that with you already. Hazel
told me about Heath. He’s in good hands. She and the other girls
are taking good care of him. I don’t want to argue again,” he said
softly. He pulled me back to him. “I love you.”

I gulped hard, knowing he was going to be
angry with me when I rejected his invitation.

“I can’t go with you now. I promised Heath I
would look after him,” I uneasily confessed, refusing to meet his
eyes.

Ayden abruptly dropped his hands to his side
and backed up against the door. “I see.” He had his arms folded
across his chest and his dark blue eyes narrowed suspiciously down
onto me.

“Don’t you want him to get better?” I
asked.

“Of course I do!” he snapped back.

“He wasn’t taking his medicine or eating the
soup Hazel offered!”

“And he will for you, of course,” Ayden said
with such bitterness it caused the hairs on the back of my neck
stand up on end.

“I’m just helping. He is your brother after
all.”

Ayden and I stood uncomfortably silent; then
he broke his penetrating stare by placing his cap over his freshly
groomed hair. He strode briskly past me, leaving me standing alone
in the hallway.

I tried not to submit to my fear of Ayden‘s
disapproval and continued to seek out a few books for Heath to
enjoy while he recovered. One book I came across was Mark Twain’s
novel,
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
. It had been in my
extensive pile of books since I was little, yet I’d never got
around to reading it.

I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong and
resented Ayden for making me feel otherwise. He should have been
grateful I cared to tend to his own brother, that we were family.
Instead, he selfishly begrudged my kindhearted deed.

With some difficulty, I put my trepidation
aside and hurried back to Heath. When I walked in, I instantly felt
welcomed. It was a much different feeling being with Heath.

“You’re awake,” I commented. He even looked a
little better. Now he had some color back in his hollow cheeks. “Is
there anything you need before I get started? Hungry, thirsty?”

“No, I’m fine. I wasn’t sure you would come
back,” he said, seemingly relieved.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, as I
opened the book to the first page.

“Sylvia stopped in.”

My head lifted. “What did she want?”

“She said Ayden was going to take you away on
a honeymoon,” he said softly.

My stomach began to flutter. Just the mention
of Sylvia gave me a headache. She had only come by to see Heath in
order to start trouble.

“He did ask me, but when I told him I was
taking care of you, he agreed to take leave at another time.” I
refused to look at him when I said this. I couldn’t let him see how
upset I was over what happened between Ayden and me.

“You should go. He is your husband.” Heath
said this with little eagerness.

“Perhaps if you would have been a good
patient, I could have,” I replied disdainfully, then began
reading.

“What if I promise to behave, to take my
medicine, and eat my soup?” Heath interrupted, taking much time to
make a complete sentence between coughing spells.

“Don’t interrupt me, Heath,” I ordered,
without lifting my eyes from the book.

“So stubborn,” he mumbled.

I read aloud to Heath that late morning until
he grew tired and fell into a deep sleep. I slipped out for a short
while to assist Hazel with the supper preparations. Most of the
children were at school, and though Sylvia was left to help with
the baby, she was nowhere to be found. Willard was attached to
Hazel’s hip when I came in.

“Would you take him for me? I have been
screaming for Sylvia for the past half hour. I’m rethinking school
for her. What‘s the point of keeping her from school when she isn‘t
learning a thing about working a lighthouse or lifting a finger to
help me, for that matter,” she said in a dither.

I took hold of Willard, who clasped onto me
with his chubby, soft, baby hands. He was cute - looked very much
like Mary.

“He needs a nap,” Hazel informed me when I
was uncertain what to do with him.

“All right, then. Let’s go upstairs and go
night-night,” I said in a light, sweet voice, which made him
smile.

“Here, take his bottle,” she said, while
liberally sprinkling salt into her stew. “Beside his cradle on the
table is a bottle of rum. Put some on the nipple, then on his gums.
If you forget, he won’t get to sleep. He‘s been teething for the
past two weeks.”

I didn’t recall Opal using rum to help baby
Elizabeth go to sleep.

Willard tugged on the strands of my loose
hair as I carried him upstairs. He was surprisingly heavy, and I
was relieved when I placed him on the pile of blankets in his
cradle.

“Now your ma says you need a little rum.” I
turned to reach for the bottle, and as I lifted it, I realized it
was empty. So I gave Willard his bottle and laid him back, then
searched the room for a new bottle.

I had only been up in the room once before,
and this time it was even messier. I had to maneuver around piles
of dirty clothes, mattresses, toys, and such. I looked for a liquor
bottle. As I scanned the room, for some reason, I was drawn to
Sylvia’s mattress that she shared with Polly.

I had noticed just a hint of the beautiful
chestnut brown hair and the tiny porcelain hand and pulled Jane
out. To my disbelief and horror, her hair had been chopped up! The
doll was left nearly bald. Only one thick strand remained. Her dark
glass eyes had been smashed, and torn out; there was nothing left
but hollow, empty sockets. Her ivory face was painted with streaks
of a wine-colored lipstick making her appear clown-like. Next to
the doll under Sylvia’s pillow was the full bottle of rum I was
searching for. My blood boiled. My beautiful doll that resembled my
young mother had been deliberately destroyed!

I remained calm enough to see Willard to
sleep. The alcohol took effect quickly and I stood over him and
watched him drift off, clinging to his bottle. He appeared so
peaceful, his breathing calm and effortless. I wished I could have
such luxury. That baby didn’t have a care in the world. He didn’t
know what kind of monster his oldest sister was. Willard had
nothing to fear. He wasn’t plagued with tribulations, overwhelmed
by grown-up responsibilities, burdened with horrors of a
reprehensible past and present day turmoil. I envied the baby to
the point where I was nearly jealous. Anger overtook me and filled
every part of my being. Visions of choking Sylvia came to mind,
followed by thoughts of pushing her off the highest point of the
island and watching her fall helplessly into the sea.

I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs
and instantly snapped back into reality. In just a second, I had
the doll placed back in the exact same spot - hidden under the
pillow - and passed over the dozens of obstacles get to the small
closet to hide. I crouched inside, leaving the door just a crack
open so that I could see whoever came in without being
undetected.