Chapter Eighteen #2
When Daddy came out to eat, he paused when he saw Jamie. Then he smiled coolly. “You know,” he said, “maybe it’s a good idea you’ve become attached to Lisa again. She could be a good fisherman’s wife and learn to enjoy it.”
“My mother does,” Jamie responded.
Daddy grunted and sat at the table. We sat, and Anna began serving.
“Did you hear about Aunt Frances and what she did?” I asked Daddy.
He shrugged. “None of that stuff is as valuable as she thinks.” He smiled. “Wait until she tries to sell it.”
“Did you ever think of yourselves as brother and sister?” I asked.
“To tell you the truth,” Daddy said, thinking, “no. She never understood what it means to be a Baxter.”
“What does it mean?” I asked him, thinking about the documents Grandfather had given me.
“It means havin’ self-respect and never lettin’ anyone make a fool of you or get the better of you.
We are privileged people. We have a responsibility to be successful for ourselves and those who are dependent on us.
It’s sort of America’s version of royalty,” he added, liking what he’d said.
“Yes, that’s it. The king is dead. Long live the king. ”
He laughed and ate with more enthusiasm. I had never really liked my father, but I wouldn’t admit it to myself because I thought it was too unnatural, my fault, but at this moment, I felt myself slipping into hating him.
“I’ll be at work tomorrow,” I said.
“Sure. But I’ll warn you now so you won’t be shocked. I’ve moved into my father’s office.”
I put down my fork.
“He’s not coming back, Lisa, and I need the room. We’ve got to face reality and deal with it like Baxters do.”
I fumed inside but just continued to eat.
The silence was deafening. I could see how uncomfortable Jamie was.
After dinner, he and I went for our usual walk around the Crest. He could sense how deeply annoyed and sad I was.
We didn’t speak much until we paused at the oak tree where he had once proposed that we spend our lives together.
“What are you going to do, Lisa? I know you. You’re thinking about a major decision.”
“You do know me. Yes. I’ll remain working at the company for Grandfather’s sake, but I can see where I would not want to be working full-time with my father. I’m still interested in art school.”
“Yeah, I thought you were going in that direction,” Jamie said.
“It won’t change anything between us.”
“Hopefully not, but the mainland has a way of swallowing up people.”
“You think Birdlane will never be enough for me now?”
“Let’s just say I fear it. And don’t make any promises,” he added quickly. “It makes it all worse. Just let’s see how things go.”
I hugged him. “We’ve known each other all our lives,” I said, “and until now, I really never knew you or appreciated who you really are.”
I kissed him. He paused, smiled, and kissed me. It was almost as if we were back to the very day we had talked about a future together.
“Just hold me,” I said. “For a little while.”
“No,” he said. “Forever.”
We kissed again, and he left.
My days seemed to run into each other. I went to work in the morning and then returned to sit with Grandfather, who was having trouble with therapy, mainly because he was too angry to cooperate.
I had the day nurse wheel him around to watch me working on the landscape.
It was easy to see when he was pleased and when he would drift off, probably reliving the moment he had collapsed.
Daddy strutted about with his new sense of authority, talking more sharply to Anna and even to me. At dinner, he would brag about something else he had done brilliantly at the company. There were nights when he didn’t come home. I never asked him about it; frankly, I didn’t care.
I did look into more classes at the college’s art school and registered to start them in the fall.
In late July, Grandfather had another seizure, which resulted in his being totally bedridden. Whenever I looked at him, I could see his wish to go to sleep permanently. I tried talking to him constantly, but even that became depressing for us both.
Jamie constantly worked at cheering me up, buying me funny things and taking me places.
“Funny,” I told him. “When I lost my mother, I thought the world wouldn’t go on. How could it? She was so important to me, so she had to be that important to everyone else. But the days went on, and I realized I had to go on as well. Grandfather has been such a powerful force on Birdlane.”
“Yes, people talk about him every day. He’s one of those men who are destined to become legends. That’s what my mother says.”
“Probably true,” I said.
One day about a week later, Eddie Doyle called me, very excited.
“I have an offer on your painting,” he said. “Substantial. Twenty-five hundred dollars.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you had put it up for sale.”
“I didn’t. The offer came on its own. It’s from an attorney in Ireland. I don’t know who’s buying it. Everything goes through him.”
“Ireland?”
“People come and go through here from all over. Whoever it is just didn’t say anything to me at the time.”
“I’m so surprised.”
“It’s good. I’ll get you the money less my commission when it comes.”
“Thank you, Eddie.”
I waited to see if he would say anything about Kyle, since he had chosen my painting, but he didn’t. Actually, I was glad he didn’t.
I hurried to tell Anna, of course, and even told Grandfather, whose eyes brightened. When I told Jamie, he was very happy, but there was always that holdback, that fear that my art would take me away from Birdlane.
When I mentioned it to Daddy at work, he looked stunned for a moment. Yes, I thought, art can make money, but that didn’t seem to be his thought.
“Ireland?”
“Yes.” I explained what Eddie Doyle had said and told him about the attorney.
“Let me know if you learn anything else,” he said cryptically.
What else was there to learn? I shrugged and walked away
About a week later, the money came with a note from Eddie saying he had shipped the painting.
He included the name of the lawyer in Galway, Ireland.
I thought about writing to him to ask who the buyer was but decided to leave it anonymous, as that was what the buyer wanted.
It just thrilled me to know that my work would be hanging on someone’s wall as far away as Ireland.
I kept thinking about Mommy and how proud she would have been.
One day, I made a private trip to Bar Harbor and returned to the cemetery to sit next to her grave and talk to her as if she were still alive and could hear everything I was saying, telling her what had happened to me and how I had dealt with it.
She had given me the strength. I wanted so to believe that.
Afterward, I went right back to Birdlane.
I didn’t want to walk through Bar Harbor and revive any of my memories of Kyle.
Despite what had happened to Grandfather and how both my father and Aunt Frances were behaving, I wanted to be at the Crest more than ever.
I had never felt the sense of home more strongly than I did now.
The lazy days of summer were slowly slipping behind me. I was close to finishing the landscape. Whenever Grandfather was wheeled out to watch, I could see the pleasure in his face despite all the physical changes due to the stroke. Strong emotions could not be denied.
“It’s very difficult to make any sense of what he tries to say,” his daytime nurse told me, “but I would swear he is telling me his wife would be very pleased with your picture.”
“I hope so,” I said.
It was impossible under the circumstances to be very happy any day since Grandfather’s stroke, but I did try to look at what was positive.
I thought I was settling into some sense of peace when, early in August, I had gone to sleep and was in a deep dream, so deep that I thought the knocking on my bedroom door was part of the dream.
It wasn’t.
I put on my table lamp and called, “Come in.”
Mrs. Cohen stood in the doorway.
“I’m afraid your grandfather has expired,” she said.
For a moment, I had no idea what she meant. Expired?
“Dr. Bush is still here confirming arrangements. I called him about an hour ago. Anna is beside herself, and apparently your father is on a business trip?”
I sat up, her words finally having meaning to me.
“I’m not sure. He comes and goes without explaining anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be with Dr. Bush.”
“Okay,” I said, choking back my tears.
I rose slowly and began to dress.
Dr. Bush was on the phone in Grandfather’s room. Anna was in the chair at the foot of the bed, bent over, her hands over her eyes. Grandfather’s eyes were closed and the blanket was pulled up to his neck.
Dr. Bush hung up and turned to me. “I’m sorry, Lisa. The stroke did too much damage. Your grandfather made all his arrangements a while back. The funeral director is sending his hearse up here and should be here in twenty minutes. He’ll discuss it all with you later in the day.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Anna and I will leave you to have your private moments with your grandfather,” he said.
Anna looked up quickly and then stood.
“Thank you. Thank you both.”
They left, and I sat in the chair beside Grandfather.
I slipped my hand under the blanket to find his. It was cold, but it was his hand.
“Grandpa, you became my whole family. You were more of a father to me than my own father was, and I will always cherish your love and wisdom. Nothing will be the same without you, but because of you, we have so much, and I will be able to go on to make you and Mommy proud. I know, as you always said, Grandmother is waiting for you. She has a smile on her face, and now you can smile forever, too.”
I leaned over and kissed his forehead, and then, not really knowing how my legs were holding up, I walked out, hugged Anna, and returned to my room. I didn’t want to see him being taken out.
I didn’t go back to sleep. I did doze on and off and was awoken when my phone rang at about seven thirty in the morning.
It was Grandfather’s attorney, Mr. Orseck.
I wasn’t surprised that the news of Grandfather’s passing had spread with electric speed throughout Birdlane Island.
“Lisa, I’m sorry. This is a terrible time for you, but I need you in my office as soon as possible. There’s going to be a lot of trouble,” he said.
“I’ll come right away,” I told him.
I headed out and didn’t even stop to tell Anna.
I knew in my heart of hearts that “trouble” was really an understatement.