Something Old, Something New (19 page)

“But it wasn't,” Trent said, sensing a sad story ahead.

“No. About ten years ago, a man there did something unspeakable to Rosalie.” She quieted for a few seconds, as if thinking back, and tears slowly filled her eyes. “Unspeakable,” she whispered. There was another long pause while she pulled herself together before she continued. “The state's investigation never found out if it was an orderly, or a doctor, a guard, or just a visitor who slipped into her room, but she was pregnant, and Devon is the child.”

“Oh, my God,” Lily whispered.

Trent's anger flamed.

“Of course, Rosalie couldn't be a mother to him, so Willa Mae brought him home, and from the moment she did, she started him on the Bible. I believe it was her way of trying to make sure he didn't grow up to be as godless as the man who'd fathered him.”

“Is Rosalie still alive?”

“Yes. Willa Mae sued the state for their neglect and won, and as part of the settlement they moved our sweet child to the best nursing facility in the state. She gets twenty-four-hour care, and the state pays the bill.”

Devon stepped out of the door and said clearly, “I want to see her.”

They stared, surprised. Lily wondered how long he'd been listening, but from the tight emotion evident in his posture and on his face, it must have been long enough. The adults were so caught off guard by his sudden appearance, he repeated the request louder and with more conviction. “I want to see her!”

Trent and Lily looked to Myrtle, who said gently, “I don't think that's wise, Devon. She doesn't know where she is or who you are.”

“I don't care! She's my mom! I want to see her!” He started to cry angry, frustrated tears.

Lily instantly perceived that this was not the bratty child making selfish demands, but a little boy lost in a world not of his own making. She was tempted to put in a call to Reverend Paula and ask her for her professional opinion on whether Devon seeing Rosalie would be a help or a hindrance to his future development, but instead, she thought about Crystal and Zoey and Preston and Amari, all children with frayed ties to their real families, and she thought about Marie, but mostly, she thought about the motherless man next to her that she planned to marry. When she looked into Trent's eyes and saw the pain there, her decision was made. “Okay, Devon. We'll go in the morning.”

He ran to her, and she held him tight while he cried.

Once Devon calmed down, Myrtle agreed to go with them, and so with a promise to be back to pick her up first thing the next morning, Trent, Lily, and Devon got into the car and were driven back to Jackson to find a hotel room for the night.

After saying good-bye to Harvey, they entered the hotel lobby. Seeing all the well-dressed people in tuxes and flowing gowns, Lily assumed there was a wedding reception somewhere in the building. “I'm starving,” she said. “Are you hungry, Devon?”

He nodded.

Trent said, “Let's see what the restaurant looks like.”

It was small and crowded with the noise and laughter of wedding revelers. The gaiety made Lily muse upon her own wedding and how festive it might be, and whether this situation with Devon would be resolved by then. She didn't want to begrudge the diners their good time, but after such a sobering visit she preferred to eat someplace quieter.

“Do you want to eat here, or would you rather eat upstairs in the room?” Trent asked.

“In the room.”

Devon hadn't said a word since leaving Myrtle's, and looking at the emotionless mask he was hiding his feelings behind, she wondered what tomorrow might bring.

They ordered from the room service menu, and after the food arrived sat together in Lily's room.

Devon ate silently. Lily sensed he was thinking about the day, but she didn't push him to speak. Finally, halfway through his burger and fries, he asked, “How do you get brain damage?”

“The doctors aren't always sure, but sometimes it can come from an injury or bad medicine.”

“Ms. Myrtle said my mom won't know who I am. Was she telling the truth?”

“I'm sure she was. I doubt she'd lie to us about something that serious. Do you still want to go and see her?”

He didn't hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then that's what we'll do.”

He finished his burger. “Can I go to my room now?”

“Yes. Your punishment's lifted for the weekend, so turn on the TV if you like.” He'd be sleeping in the adjoining room. Trent was in a room across the hall.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Trent and Lily watched him make his exit. They both wanted to save him from the pain he was sure to suffer tomorrow, but it wasn't in their hands. Life had to go forward.

Chapter 18

T
he following morning, Harvey drove them back to Ibo to pick up Ms. Myrtle, who came out to the car dressed like she was on her way to church. Her blue flower-print dress was topped off with a big blue hat, and a matching blue pocketbook hung from her wrist. In her hand were a pair of round-toed, short-heeled pumps, and on her feet the red house slippers she'd had on yesterday. Once she was settled into the seat next to the solemn Devon and carefully removed her hat, she greeted them, and Harvey drove them away.

It was a two-hour drive to the facility Rosalie now called home, and it was a beautiful place; from the well-kept grounds with their flowers and shrubs, to the stone statues of children playing, to the beautiful fountains, the complex gave off an air of wealth and calm. Wide walkways made of snow-white concrete crisscrossed the grounds, and patients in wheelchairs were being pushed slowly along by staff members in green scrubs.

Lily said, “Looks like a very nice place.”

“Used to be a mansion. State took it over when the owner went broke. Most of the patients here come from families with money.”

Lily sent a discreet glance Devon's way and saw him staring silently at all he could see, and she wondered what he was thinking. She saw that Trent was watching Devon, too.

Inside, they followed Myrtle to the reception desk. They were met with a smile by a nice young man who looked like a grown-up Preston and were asked to sign in. As they did so, he gave them visitors passes that were meant to be stuck onto their clothing, and a warning: “Those passes have to be worn and visible at all times.”

Lily was pleased by the security protocol and watched Devon stick the pass onto the front pocket of his suit coat. Once that was done, they were allowed to move on.

As they entered the elevator, Myrtle said to Devon, “Press four, please.”

He did.

“She's on the top floor, and in the fanciest wing.”

Trent asked, “Do you visit her often?”

“Not as much as I used to when Willa Mae was living, but I try to make it at least once a month. Hard to find somebody who'll drive me way up here.”

The elevators opened onto an area holding another desk. The smiling woman sitting behind it checked their passes and then stood and gave Myrtle a hug.

Myrtle introduced the woman as Gladys, Rosalie's primary aide.

“How's she doing?” Myrtle asked as they walked down a quiet hall.

“She's fine. Rocking and humming as always.”

Lily wondered if Rosalie had the entire floor to herself, because they didn't pass any other patients' rooms that she'd seen.

It was a sunny day, and Rosalie's room was filled with light. It looked like a child's room, with a banner of teddy bears on the wall below the ceiling. There was a huge four-poster bed topped by a white scalloped canopy, and around the room four white rocking chairs were all filled with bears and dolls and a ton of other stuffed toys. In a rocker, facing the sun-filled windows, sat a dark-skinned woman with long, snow-white hair. She had her back to them, but they could see her rocking in the chair and hear her soft humming. Lily looked around for Devon and found him standing beside Trent. His face was a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Gladys walked over to Rosalie and said gently, “Hey, Rosie. You have visitors. Myrtle's here, and she's brought some friends.”

Myrtle walked over. “Hey there, Ms. Rosalie. How are you?”

For a moment the rocking and humming didn't stop, but after a few more coaxing words from Gladys, Rosalie looked up at Myrtle and held her eyes. Myrtle bent slowly and placed a kiss on her forehead. Only then did Rosalie glance around at the other visitors. For the first time Lily got a good look at her face. She appeared surprisingly young for a woman they'd been told was past forty, but more than that, to see Rosalie was to see Devon, because he favored his mother in every way. Same dark skin tone, same eyes, nose, and shape of the lips. Lily also noticed for the first time the little brown baby doll wrapped in a blue blanket Rosalie cradled in her arms. She tightened her lip at the implication of that.

Still rocking and humming, Rosalie studied Trent for a moment, but at the sight of Devon she stopped and went silent. Lily wasn't sure if it was her own imagination, but there seemed to be a distinct confusion in Rosalie's stare. It was almost as if she was trying to figure out if he was someone she knew, but a moment later she turned her gaze back to the window, and the rocking and humming recommenced.

Devon looked torn between hurt, confusion, and concern. It was as if he couldn't decide how he was supposed to feel, and Lily's heart went out to him.

He asked softly, “Can we go now?”

“Sure,” Lily replied.

But to her surprise he didn't walk to the doorway. He instead walked over to his mother's side. He watched her for a long moment and then placed a kiss on her cheek. She didn't acknowledge him in any way. He had tears in his eyes as they left the room.

On the drive back to Ibo, Lily felt as if her heart had been sent through a shredder, but she was certain Devon felt worse. He was seated flush against Trent's side, and Trent had a fatherly arm around his shoulder. He hadn't spoken a word since getting in the car, and neither had Myrtle, but Lily could see her watching Devon with love and concern.

Lily said, “Thank you for telling us about Rosalie and taking us to visit her. Means a lot.”

“You're welcome. We should stop by Willa Mae's grave before going to my place, and then you folks can fly back home.”

Lily nodded. She saw Devon close his eyes for a moment as if the words brought pain. She looked over at Trent's eyes, and all she could think was how blessed she was to have him by her side. She knew she was strong enough to have handled this alone, but she was glad she hadn't had to.

The cemetery was nothing more than an overgrown field separated from the surroundings by a high, rusty wrought-iron fence. They entered the space solemnly.

Myrtle said, “Black folks have been using this cemetery since slavery.”

As they followed the slow-moving Myrtle, Lily wondered about all the souls interred there. As at the Henry Adams cemetery, there were headstones so weathered and withered by time that the names they once held were gone.

Myrtle stopped and pointed to a mound of cleared earth. “I'm still trying to save up for a stone, but I get out at least once a week to keep the weeds away.”

Trent was holding Devon's hand. “We'll take care of the stone. I'll give you a call when I get home, and we can make the arrangements.”

“God bless you,” she replied emotionally.

Devon walked over to the grave. After a moment of standing silently over it, he dropped to his knees and then spread his body out over the earth that separated him from his beloved grandmother. As he lay there in the thick silence with his arms outstretched, his sobbing was loud and heart-wrenching. Lily moved to go to his side, but Trent stopped her with a gentle hand and an even gentler voice. “Let him say good-bye.”

He was right, of course, so through her tears, she watched the little boy in the black suit lying on top of the mound of rich black dirt and listened to him weep.

Finally, after what seemed like a year of tears, he stood. He took off his tie and placed it tenderly atop the grave. When he turned to face them, he said in a hoarse voice, “I'm ready to go home now.”

I
t was late when they arrived back in Henry Adams. Blessedly, Devon slept the entire flight. Lily knew he had to be exhausted, because she certainly was. Once at home, however, he went up to his room. Lily let him go, and she and Trent went to the kitchen. While Trent called Amari to let him know they were back, Lily looked around in the fridge for something quick to eat. She was still looking when Devon, now dressed in his pajamas, walked in.

Lily glanced his way and froze at what she saw. Neatly folded across his arm appeared to be every little black suit in his closet. Atop the pile of suits were five little clip-on ties. She straightened and closed the fridge door. In response to the quick questioning look she shot Trent, he shrugged in silent reply.

Devon asked, “Where should I put these? I won't be needing them anymore. Should I put them in the basement?”

“Um. Just leave them on the chair. I'll take care of them. You sure you won't need them? You might want to save a couple for church with Reverend Paula.”

“I left two in my room.”

Lily wanted to jump for joy at the metamorphosis, but knowing the painful road he'd had to travel in order to get to where he was now negated that. “I'll have Tamar take them to the Salvation Army next time she goes.”

“Okay.” He looked at the two of them and said, “I'm going to bed now.”

Lily said, “Come give me a hug.”

He walked over, and they hugged each other tightly. Lily whispered, “I love you, Devon.”

“I love you, too.”

When she finally turned him loose, he gave Trent a big hug as well. And when Trent finally turned him loose, Trent said, “I know how hard this weekend was for you, and I'm real proud of you, son. Real proud.”

Devon nodded and said softly, “Night, Mom and Dad.”

They wished him good night and watched him until he was out of sight.

After he left, Lily wiped at her eyes and said, “If I do any more crying, my eyeballs are going to turn into raisins.”

“Mine are already there.”

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. They held each other silently. “You're a great dad.”

“And you are a great mom.”

“Think the fates can deal us some fun cards for a change? I'm tired of all these sad ones.”

“So am I.”

The fates heard them, but as the old saying goes: Be careful what you ask for.

L
ater, after Trent went home, a weary Lily doused all the lights and climbed the stairs. Her destination—bed, but she wanted to check on Devon first. He was asleep and snoring softly. The sight of his peaceful features filled her heart with love. He'd endured so much over the past two days, and she wondered just how much more sorrow a little boy could hold. His bringing down the suits had been a surprise. She took the offering as a signal that he'd finally made peace with his past and was ready to move on with his life, but she had no idea if that was the truth. Moving quietly to his side, she bent and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, then touched his head affectionately. After watching him for a few minutes more, she exited the room and left him to his dreams.

L
ily, Trent, and the boys, along with everyone else in town, spent Sunday morning at Reverend Paula's first service. It was held in the kiva at the school, and they were all impressed with how serious and professional Zoey looked slowly walking down the center aisle wearing a long black robe with a short-waisted, long-sleeved white top over it as she carried the tall pole topped by a shiny gold cross. Behind her walked Reverend Paula in a voluminous green robe that was tastefully accented with a fancy gold cross appliqued on the front. She held a large red book reverently above her head as she solemnly followed in Zoey's wake.

Lily glanced down at Devon, who was watching all this with close interest. When the reverend and Zoey reached the foot of the stage, Zoey leaned the cross against it so that it would remain upright, and then Paula led the people in the auditorium in the prayers that were printed on the bulletins they'd all been handed by Zoey before the service began. Paula took a few minutes to explain how the service would be conducted and what part the congregation would play. After that, everything got under way. There were readings, done by Sheila; a sermon by the reverend that made them laugh and think; and then there was a part where they all were encouraged to get up and greet their neighbors. Paula called it the Peace. Lily thought that part was different and nice. After everyone took their seats again, Paula explained that church announcements usually followed the Peace, but since there weren't any, they went right into the offertory. Sheila and the colonel, both of whom were Episcopalians, passed the plates around and took them back to Paula, who blessed the plates by saying a short prayer. A short while later, it was time for communion, or the Eucharist as she called it, and anyone who'd been baptized could come up for the bread and wine that was meant to symbolize Christ's last supper. She'd explained earlier that communion was given every Sunday, not just on the first Sunday of the month as in some other denominations, and that they would be taking a sip of real wine from the silver chalice.

“Jesus changed water into wine. Not water into grape juice,” she told them, and they knew it was okay to laugh after the humorous sermon she'd given. They were also shown what to do if they had an aversion to alcohol and didn't wish to sip from the chalice.

When the service was over, Zoey picked up the cross and silently led Reverend Paula in the recession. Lily looked over at Reg and Roni. Both were beaming.

All in all, everyone enjoyed the service. Mal in particular took a look at his watch and saw that they'd only been there an hour and fifteen minutes. “I like this,” he declared. “I can go to church and be back home in plenty of time for the kickoff of the game.”

Tamar smacked him lightly with her bulletin. “Behave yourself.”

But many of the people in the line waiting to greet Paula heartily agreed with him.

When the time came for Trent, Lily, and the boys to shake Paula's hand, Devon looked at Zoey standing so proudly at the reverend's side and asked Paula, “Can I help with your church, too?”

Paula smiled. “You most certainly can. Usually there are three acolytes. One to carry in the cross and two to carry the candles. What about you, Amari? I could use a few more people.”

He shook his head. “I don't look good in a dress.”