Chapter 2 Susan
TWO
Susan
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I AWOKE TO THE SOUNDS of my mother crying and groaning downstairs in her room. With the small elevator breaking down more and more, we’d moved her down to the main floor to make it easier to move her about, but it left her far from us during the night.
“Mother?” I called out into my empty room, sleep still clinging to my brain.
But as she cried out again, I jumped out of bed and ran down to her room. It was a frequent event these days, even more so than when my father died. She would wake up crying, often following a dream, and I’d console and reassure her. But the cries were different this time.
“Mother?” I said as I rushed to her bed. “What’s wrong? What’s going on? Did you have a bad dream? Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?” I patted her arms, down her legs trying to find the source of her discomfort.
“Oh, Susan,” she cried, caressing my cheek. “My lovely, responsible and resilient Susan. Tell me, how did it all come to this? How have I arrived at this time in my life where I’m about to lose everything? Everything!”
I helped her to sit up. “You still have me, Mother... and Holly. We’ll always be there for you.”
“I know, dear, and I appreciate it, but...”
“Let’s get you out of your nightgown and get you dressed for the day.”
She slapped my hands away. “I can do that,” she said as she pulled her nightgown up and over her head, then pulled on the sweater that was neatly folded on the night table by her bed.
“Now that it’s November...” She reached out to hold onto me.
“I’m going to wear the green skirt today. It’s thick and warm enough.”
I reached out to the skirt that was draped over the back of the nearby chair. “Here you go.” I helped her into the skirt, then brought her wheelchair up to the side of the bed.
“One...,” she said, bracing herself on my shoulder.
“Two...,” I added as I slipped my hands under her arms.
“And... three!” As she hopped off the bed, one weak foot barely touching the floor, I held her and transferred her to the chair.
“I’d like to have waffles for breakfast,” she said as I wheeled her out
“Waffles sound wonderful.”
“Where’s Holly?”
“Probably still in bed, Mother.”
“I’d really like to have breakfast with both of you this morning,” she said.
Her growing sense of insecurity troubled me. She’d never asked to have breakfast with either of us, not even since father’s death. I couldn’t imagine why she wanted to eat with us this time.
Nonetheless, I wheeled her to the breakfast room and prepared the morning coffee. For her convenience, we’d brought the coffee machine to the table so that she could refill her cup as much as she wanted. In addition, I brought cream, sugar and her favorite mug to the table.
“I’ll go wake Holly and then come back to prepare the waffles.”
I returned upstairs and knocked on Holly’s door.
“Go away,” she grumbled.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
“That’s not what I meant by ‘go away’, Susan. I want to sleep.”
“Well, mother would like to have breakfast with us.”
Her blonde
hair tousled and her eyes half open, she propped herself up on her elbow and looked at me. “What for?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. I think she just might need us a little more through this difficult time.”
“Do you think maybe she’s found a way for us to keep the house?
” Her eyes widened and she threw off the bedcovers to sit up.
“Oh. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Mother has connections.
She knows people here in Bath. Father was very well known and well liked.
Perhaps she’s found someone who will help us. ”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said. Judging by the expression on Mother’s face, she had not found a solution to our dilemma at all.
“Oh. You’re such a downer, Susan. Be optimistic for once in your life.”
Right. “Hurry up and come down if you want to find out one way or another.”
“What are we having for breakfast?” she called as I stepped out and closed the door.
“Waffles,” I shouted back as I made my way down the hall.
I returned to the breakfast room to find my mother pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Is she coming?”
“She’ll be down in a minute.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you girls.”
Smiling, I prepared the waffle mixture while the waffle iron heated up.
“Do we have fresh strawberries?” Mother said.
“There are a few left.”
“And cream?”
I nodded.
I brought the strawberries and cream to the table, as well as the necessary dishes, then returned to the waffle iron to pour the mixture in.
“Good morning, Mother dear,” Holly said as she sauntered in and sat down. “Are the waffles ready yet?”
I bit my tongue.
“What’s going on?” she asked Mother. “Why did you want to have breakfast with us this morning?”
“Oh, Holly, my beautiful angel.”
My breath caught in my throat. Why was I always the responsible and reasonable one, while Holly was the beautiful angel who was permitted anything she liked?
“Tell me, Mother,” Holly said again. “What do you have to tell us?”
“Oh, honey. It’s just so wonderful and reassuring to sit with you both and enjoy waffles with strawberries and cream and...”
“Is that all?” Holly said, clearly disappointed.
“You girls mean the world to me,” Mother went on.
“Well, I know that, but... I just thought that...” With a huff, she sat back.
“What did you think, dear?” Mother said.
“Oh... nothing.”
With two waffles ready, I got them out of the iron, and poured more mixture in.
“Here you go,” I said as I brought the piping hot waffles to the table.
Holly glanced up at me. “Could I have a touch of blueberry syrup on mine.”
I glared at her. “I believe you still know where the refrigerator and pantry are. You can have whatever you like. Just get up and get it yourself.”
“Gee. Why so testy this morning?”
“Susan,” Mother said. “Be a dear and get the blueberry syrup for your little sister.”
I stared at her for a prolonged moment. This isn’t the time to complain, I reminded myself. This isn’t the time to point out how little she has done since Father’s death. This isn’t the time to point out anything at all.
Ignoring my sister, I smiled at my mother, nodded and went to retrieve the much-desired syrup.
“Thank you, dear,” Mother said as I set the syrup on the table.
Holly simply smiled, pleased with herself.
I returned to the waffle iron to take out the next two waffles.
But before I could get to the table and sit down to enjoy my breakfast, a loud bang at the door startled us all.
“What in the world was that?” I turned to head out of the breakfast room and came face to face with a stranger.
“Well, good morning, young lady.”
The older man offered me a greasy smile, his uneven teeth making the smile even more unpleasant. The hat on his head hid what appeared to be a balding head, and while his suit seemed expensive, there was something unkept and disheveled in his appearance.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my home?”
He chuckled. “Your home? My dear, I should be asking you what you are doing here on my property.” He looked past me to Holly and Mother. “Good morning, ladies. So sorry to disrupt your breakfast. Waffles. Smells heavenly.”
The hawkish looking man grinned, his beady eyes filled with greed. He shoved his hand out to me. “I’m Jeremy Baker. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
I ignored his outheld hand. “We’ve received no word of your visit this morning,” I said, trying to understand how he’d obtained entry into our house. “We were told you’d be taking possession of the house in two weeks still.”
“My dear,” he said. He pulled off his hat, revealing a few sparse hairs over his shiny head, and held it before him. “You must be Susan, the level-headed eldest daughter. The one your father relied on and trusted. The one who was fully aware of the financial situation this sanctuary was facing.”
As I nodded, I tried to read him. Was he truly as ruthless as his acquisition of our home had led us to believe?
He leaned closer. “I am in no way obliged to give you advance notice of my visit, little lady. This property is mine and it is simply my goodwill that allows you to remain here at all. Don’t forget that.”
Beyond him, I heard movement in the hall. I looked past him to find another stranger standing in the hall, a tape measure in one hand and a notepad in the other.
“Oh, yes,” Jeremy said. “My assistant, Walker, and I have come to take a few notes. With the work we’re looking to do to this old place, we need a few measurements. You know how these things go.”
I pressed a tight and annoyed smile. “Actually, I’ve never kicked a family out of their home before, so, no. I don’t know how these things go.”
His eyes darkened and his obnoxious grin faded. “I would accept my hospitality with a little more gratitude, young lady,” he whispered. “I have every right to throw you off the property this instant, but my charitable nature has me affording you two weeks to find another residence.”
I bit my bottom lip, angry but unable to express it.
“Mr. Baker,” Holly cried out as she came to us. “Your charitable nature is not charitable at all. What type of gentleman intrudes on the early breakfast of three ladies? This is completely unacceptable, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“Oh, you must be Holly. Yes. Yes,” he said, his gaze traveling over her face and down over the simple white dress she wore. “The beautiful singer, are you not?”
“Do not try to butter me up, Mr. Baker. You are a crude, rude, heartless man and you know it.” She pointed at Mother. “Do you know what all of this is doing to our poor mother? We lost our father only a few weeks ago and now you want to so ruthlessly throw us out of our home.”
He leaned in closer to her, close enough for her to lean back.
He grinned, an ugly and nasty grin. “Perhaps you would like to sit down with me and discuss an alternative arrangement.” His gaze dipped into the decolletage of her dress.
“I’m a reasonable man and could be convinced to leave you another week. ”
More disgusted than I’d ever felt in my life, I grabbed Holly by the arm and pulled her away from Mr. Baker.
“We’ll be out of here in two weeks,” I said, not trying to hide my disgust.
“Pity,” he said with a sneer.