Thing With Feathers (9781616634704) (38 page)

“Yes, Sean. You told me. Dearest, I think your lunch is about ready. Why don’t I go fetch it for you? We’ll talk some more.”

“Thank you,” he wheezed, setting off another coughing fit.

He’d suffered several more heart attacks since the first one three years before. The last time, pneumonia had set in his good lung whilst he was recuperating. And as predicted, Sean had not the strength to fight it. Antibiotics like penicillin were the medical miracles of the 1940s, but they could only do so much.

Sean could hear Rebecca’s light step approaching across the planked floor. He felt truly blessed that she was by his side, and was thankful beyond words. As if Cinders could read his thoughts, she jumped onto the bed and pushed her head under the palm of Sean’s hand.

“Yes, Cinders. I’m mighty thankful for you too, girl.” He massaged her soft fur.

It seemed fitting to Sean that he should be dying when circumstances were incredibly wrong with the world, when night turned in to day and fire ravaged the countryside. It was as if hatred and evil had decided to rage at Sean’s pending ascent to heaven, for Sean had little doubt he had earned a place in His kingdom. He knew it because he’d had so few rewards in this life, so very few victories. Yet he’d lived as a righteous man. Sean Marshall knew where he was going after this life, so he had no fear of dying; instead, he drew comfort from his due. He drew comfort, too, from being able to tell Rebecca everything.

Sean thought that she should probably be told by him, rather than Charles, of the specifics in his will. Rebecca carried a tray to his bedside, placed it on the stand that swiveled over his bed at just the right height, and helped him sit up higher on his pillows. Lunch was the same as breakfast, which was the same as the day before and the days before that. It was the only thing he could keep down: crisp-fried French potatoes with black olives and a chocolate milkshake.

“I phoned Wendell as you asked, Sean. He will talk to Victor post-haste. He said to tell you they would be on the very next train out of Chicago.”

“Thanks, Beck-wheat. Please sit by me. I want to tell you about my bequests.”

“Sean—”

“No. Now, come on, Rebecca. We both know I haven’t got many days left. Let’s not play like we don’t.” He cleared his throat. “This house, the farm, everything I own, it’s to be sold. I listed you as administrator. It should fetch a handsome sum. I left some of the proceeds to Lorette. I know that if Will were still with us, he would have married her. I thought she should be looked after. She has Charles now, and I know he will take good care of her, but…well…I owe her for so much. I want her to have something.”

“She’s been awful good to you, Sean.” Rebecca smiled.

“I left ten percent of the net to the church in Tillamook, with some restrictions. Charles knows all about it (cough). They’re going to use the money to build a new pastor’s quarters onto our little church and expand the existing chapel. But they must thoroughly vet the pastor, and I stipulated he must be church-ordained. I figured it best to know exactly what kind of pastor the church is getting next time around—now that I know how hard it is to get rid of a bad one.” For the small chuckle which he allowed himself, he endured another painful, racking cough.

“I left fifty percent to Victor. He won’t need it. The boy was a millionaire at age fourteen. But, I wanted him to know I loved him and considered him my family, my heir. And as such, I wanted to take care of him. I failed so miserably at it in life, Beck-wheat. I hope I can show him, you know, after I’m gone.

“The rest is yours, Rebecca, for you and Evan. I wanted to give you myself twenty years ago, but fate had other plans. When you gave yourself to me, in grief over Will, I know I had no right to let you, but I had no will to refuse you. I want you to know I will take that sweetest of memories to my grave with me, Beck-wheat. I didn’t know how to tell you how I’ve loved you all these years. I guess that’s why I never did tell you. But I do, Beck-wheat. With all my heart, I do. And I want you to be happy.”

Her eyes overflowed, and a stream issued down her soft cheek. “Sean, I love you too. Always. Dear me, I don’t know what to say.” She dabbed at her tears. “Thank you, Sean.”

He waved it off. “Would you consider taking care of my girl here, when I’m gone?” He scratched Cinders’s head affectionately. The dog looked up at him with pure adoration.

“Of course. I would be very pleased to have Cinders by my side, Sean. She’s lovely, and a part of you, your family. I would…(she choked back a sob) I would be very pleased.”

She could see his tiny reserve of strength was ebbing. “Maybe we’ve overdone it, Sean. If you don’t think you can finish your lunch, I can take the tray away for now so’s you can rest some.” She helped him with his pillows and bedclothes.

He smiled and lay his head down on the pillow. “Yes, thank you Beck-wheat. Now I can rest easy.”

She stared at the sleeping man thoughtfully and then turned to take leave with his lunch tray. She never saw Sean’s eyes suddenly open wide, or the smile that took shape. He weakly uttered a single word: “Pa?” Then, just as quickly, his eyes closed. The slight smile that crossed his lips remained.

Partly because Rebecca thought she heard Sean say something, but also because it occurred to her that his, “Now I can rest easy,” sounded an awful lot like a good-bye, she turned around and watched his nightshirt anxiously. It no longer rose and fell in the irregular rhythm she’d grown accustomed to. She dropped the tray and rushed to his bedside. Rebecca reached tentatively and touched his heart. There was no beat. She felt his neck. No pulse. She choked back a sob. She knew that it was inevitable, but she was caught unprepared nonetheless. He would not get to see his son after all. Victor would never hear those words from Sean—words he had wanted to share with his son so badly. A great man, her best friend, was gone. He left this life the same way he lived it: quietly, yet full of purpose and good, always good. She would miss him so much. Rebecca hung her head and cried.

Chapter 84

S
he needed help. She didn’t have an inkling of what some of Sean’s personal effects were worth. She called up Charles and Lorette. “I’ve only got today to decide. Oh, Charles, say you’ll help me!”

“Just let me clear my appointments for the afternoon, dear. We can be there in…oh, say two hours?”

“Bless you, Charles. You’re a gem.”

“So are you, dear Mrs. Tjaden. So are you. You know, I believe, in spite of everything, in many ways, Sean was a very fortunate man.”

“Yes,” she answered simply.

Evan was trying to price the radios and parts. It wasn’t as easy as it sounds. There were boxes of parts, antiques mostly. After being run in the paper only yesterday, Sean’s radio parts collection had the phone ringing all morning with anxious buyers. They were coming from as far as Montana and California for some of Sean’s pieces. Then there were the cameras and photography collection; and the farm machinery; and Mavis’s exquisite furnishings, some of which had been shipped from Europe, around the Horn, and still had the tags tied to the table legs. And then there was his grand Victorian farmhouse and property. What should she let those go for? Sean must have suffered some mental incapacity when he thought to name her executor. What could he have been thinking?

“Say, Rebecca, I’ve got most of those parts cataloged and priced, but some of ‘em…whew! I don’t have a clue. What’s say the stuff we don’t know about we just stick a note on ‘em for folks to make us an offer?”

“You think that’d be all right?” she fretted.

“Hey, Beck, I don’t think Sean would have wanted you to strain so over his estate sale. He’s givin’ a healthy portion of everything to you. And he don’t…I mean, he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. If you don’t mind handlin’ those things the way I said, I’m certain Sean would be just fine with it.”

“Okay. But Charles is really good with antiques. He collects them. And he said he could be here in a couple hours. I think I should do whatever Charles says to do when it comes to Mavis’s furniture.”

“That’s fine with me, Beck.” He used his pet name for her and hugged his wife good and long. “Say, maybe he’ll bring Lorette and she’ll make us a swell dinner.”

Rebecca knuckled him playfully and smiled. She didn’t really take offense. She knew full well that she could not cook a whit. “I’m fairly certain you can count on it.”

“Well, I’m gonna start in on the camera stuff then. Sean used to take me around with him before he, well, had his accident. I think I know his inventory pretty well. By the way, Ellie talked to Johnny Arthur and Henry Kellerich at the service. You remember the Marshall’s old farmhands, Johnny and Henry. They said they would come over early in the morning to milk and whatnot with Ellie and Charlie and the two oldest children, and then they’ll all stick around and handle the machinery and livestock part of the auction for us. Boy, am I glad they offered to do it.”

Evan knew that his wife thought Sean had gone off the deep end giving her that job to do. But there was a method to Sean’s madness that Evan both understood and appreciated. Rebecca was too busy to really think about Sean’s passing. When things settled and Becky had time to mourn properly, it would be that much easier for her, bittersweet but not bitter. Sean was a thoughtful gentleman to the very end. He looked up at the ceiling.

“Thanks, Sean. I miss you already, buddy.”

Dinner was a festivity of sorts. Lorette brought with her a half a ham and a large roasted capon. She asked Rebecca to help her in the kitchen. Charles priced the furniture, and Lorette instructed Rebecca on the finer points in preparing walnut stuffing. With mashed potatoes and fresh corn, garden peas, cranberry sauce, and homemade biscuits, it was like a holiday meal. Best of all, Rebecca and Evan would eat delectable leftovers for days. Charles had also brought along two bottles of very nice white wine to round out the evening. Poor Rebecca, unaccustomed to drinking wine and exhausted from strain and grief, drank perhaps a bit too much. But it did her a world of good. The four friends sat amid the stripped carcasses and dinner scraps, feeding Cinders and swapping stories about Sean. It reminded Charles of a good, old-fashioned Irish wake, albeit with a smaller turnout. Some stories made them laugh uproariously. Quite a few made them cry. All in all, it was soul-cleansing and helped ease the pain. Perhaps the most poignant moment was when Lorette exclaimed about the number of people present at Sean’s service.

Each, in turn, thought,
Yes, an abundant number, but not unexpected considering the man.

Ten in the morning came mighty early for Rebecca and Evan, since both were nursing slight hangovers. To make matters worse, by the time they arrived to unlock the door, there was a wall of potential buyers around the place at least ten feet deep.

“Sweet Jesus,” Evan exclaimed.

“Oh, Evan, what are we in for?”

“Did Charles say he would be here this morning?”

“He said he would be, Ev, but that was before all the wine and reminiscing. He might just decide to sleep in on his Saturday morning.”

But she no sooner uttered the words when Charles Reynolds’s convertible scooted into the driveway. Both she and her husband voiced audible sighs of relief. She managed to get the door open and turn on lights before the first wave of seekers hit the door.

“I’m sorry, folks, but I’m bound by state law to wait until the official start of this auction. You’re going to have to wait until ten a.m.,” Rebecca informed the crowd.

“C’mon, lady! It’s raining out here!”

“I’m sorry. I really am.” She closed the door quickly, shutting out the grumbling and complaints.

Charles and Lorette came in stomping their feet on the rug and shaking their coats.

“What an awful day!” Lorette shouted over the downpour.

“Seems it hasn’t discouraged too many folks,” Charles gestured toward the crowds. “Rebecca, I believe everything was in order last night, so let us not delay the good people. Why don’t we step on out to the veranda and instruct folks on how this will work?”

“After you, Charles. Geez, I’m so glad you showed.”