The Artisans (35 page)

Cole shifts against his pillows. “I go home. Wait for your call.” His grin melts my heart. “As far as my absence? The story is apparently, shortly after I came to visit Gideon, I went for a ride on his motorbike, and crashed. I suffered blunt trauma to the head. That’s the last thing I remember. The blow resulted in amnesia. I must have wandered off and gotten lost. Doctors say I have no memory of the incident or what happened in the four-year interim, post-traumatic stress or some such. What
is
known is that another injury triggered the return of my long-term memory. I’m to be reunited with my family in a few days”

“Clever. Who thought that story up, you?”

“Pfft. Who do you think?” His lips curve. “Gideon’s giving me plane fare home, new clothes, whatever I want.”

“Wow. That’s awesome. How nice.”

His smile turns wry. “It’s not that nice, Raven. The guy wants me out of the way.”

“I do.” I twist on the bed and find Gideon leaning on the doorframe. He straightens and meanders over to the bed, cane clicking on the tile floor.

“How long have you been eavesdropping?” I face Cole again, a blush stinging both my cheeks. “Did you know he was back there?”

His smile is his answer. “There were some things Gideon needed to hear. He’s not your only option, Raven.” I’m not enjoying the push-pull game with me in the middle. Cole lifts his chin to Gideon. “Do you want to hit me?”

“Frankly, yes.” Gideon’s hand fists and he draws his elbow back. Cole’s eyes widen to capacity.

“Gideon!” With one hand, I lunge for his wrist while I clutch my gown together with the other.

His arm lowers and he grins like a madman. A total psyche. “I think I’ll pass on punching you, Wynter. Your time at Maddox mansion has more than served its purpose. I’m satisfied.”

Cole’s body relaxes and he eases into his pillow. “Sounds good.”

***

Jamis drives us to the house as the sun breaks over the horizon. We’re no sooner out of the car than Jenny throws the front door open and scurries down the sidewalk. “Mr. Maddox! I’ve been calling and calling.”

Gideon frowns. He pulls his cell from his back pocket. “I had it turned off at the doctor’s. What’s the matter?”

Jenny’s gaze flits from her employer to me. “It’s Mr. Weathersby, sir. He’s taken a turn for the worse.” My knees falter. Gideon’s hand rests on my lower back, and I press into him. “The young miss is wanted in Savannah immediately. Please, you must hurry. It’s quite serious.”

“No,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage.

“Jamis!” Gideon barks, but the old man is already getting into the driver’s seat. Gideon yanks the back door of the Lexus open for me.

As I make for the car, Jenny’s plump arms wrap my neck. “I’m so sorry, dearie. So very sorry.”

I pat her back. “I know you are, Jenny. Thank you.”

In seconds, we’re back in the car and heading to Savannah. The scenery blurs as I will the miles to go faster. They’ve called me to say goodbye. No matter how long a person’s been sick, or how prepared you think you are for this moment, you’re never ready. All my plans for moving Ben into Maddox mansion, getting him well, being a healthy family are past. He won’t see me go to college, or launch my first collection. I won’t buy that little flat in New York for the two of us now.

We are but dust and shadow.

As Jamis drives to the front door of the rehab center, I don’t wait for the car to fully stop before I’m out and running up the steps. Gideon calls to me, but I rush forward, burst through the door and shout, “Where is Benjamin Weathersby!”

A woman behind the desk wears a disgruntled expression. I’m about to tell her where to shove it, when a tiny, dark-haired woman in a white coat walks in from an adjoining hallway. I met her on my first visit here, Dr. Lee.

“Thank you, Doris,” Dr. Lee says. “Miss Weathersby, will you follow me, please?”

She doesn’t have to ask twice, I’m on her heels like white on rice. “What’s wrong with Ben?”

“He’s in advanced stages of cirrhosis. Portal hypertension, accumulated scar tissue has caused internal bleeding. He’s hemorrhaging. We believe he is hanging on to see you.”

Every word stabs. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“I am sorry, Miss Weathersby. I know this is an extremely difficult situation. I in no way am making light of your pain, but we act on the sole wishes of the patient until such time as he is unable to make decisions for himself. We called when he asked us to contact you.”

Frustration builds in me like a geyser. Her explanation makes zero sense. Ben is needy, helpless, and dependent. I’m always the first one he calls when he’s in trouble, and I know he wanted to leave this place, like, a dozen times.

Dr. Lee guides me down a section of the facility I’ve never seen before. I fight the urge to shove the little doctor aside if it will get me to Ben faster. The antiseptic smell, nurse’s desk, and machinery suggest a hospital ward. She leads me to a small room. Inside is a single bed with steel rails. Since Ben is asleep, I take the opportunity to look him over. His multicolored skin is covered in brighter tangles of purple veins. Dark brown circles underline both eyes, and his flesh is downright bronze in color.

“Ben?” His eyes crack open.

“There’s my sweetest girl.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” The moment the words are out, I want to reel them back. I don’t want our last minutes together spent fussing at each other.

“Time I grew up, don’t you think? I had to let you go, Rae, and I have.” Only now, at the end, does my stepfather decide to become independent and unselfish when all I want is to be with him. “Knew it was the end for me pretty soon after they brought me in here, but I couldn’t say so. I wanted you to have a chance at a new life. Let the Maddox boy help you. Don’t be stubborn like your old man.” He draws a labored breath, and I glance behind me for a nurse, just in case. “Rae?”

My head snaps around. “Yeah, I’m here.” I lean over and run my hand over his forehead. The skin is clammy, and I wonder again if I should call someone.

“You needed to learn to live without taking care of me. I needed to stand on my own.” His hand covers mine. It’s so cold, I startle.

“Does it hurt?” I grip his frail fingers. The knuckles protrude under parchment-thin skin.

“It’s not so bad.”

Tears stream down my face. “I love you, Pops. You know that, right?” There’s a catch in my voice that I don’t bother hiding.

“I’ve always known it, darlin’. Don’t matter where you come from. You’re
my
girl, and you always will be. Thank you for all you done for me.” His voice grows fainter. I have to lean over to hear him. “Make me proud. I’m going to see your mama, now, Rae. Going up to heaven. But I’ll see you again one day.”

His eyes close, but there’s a smile. The monitor goes from a steady beat to flatline. “Nurse!” I shriek, eyeing the open door. When no one appears, I throw myself on top of Ben. “Don’t you leave me, damn it. Oh, God. Don’t go!” Several hands grab me by the arms, pulling me off Ben. I fight, but there are too many of them. I’m deposited in a nearby chair as the staff attends my stepfather, but a sixth sense tells me it’s useless. He’s gone. The images of doctors and nurses blur, as I weep for my Ben.

And the flatline screams on …

I don’t know how much time passes while they work on him. My weeping fades to quiet hiccups. Sitting numbly by, I watch detached, as if they’re filming an episode of
Grey’s Anatomy
. After a while, a doctor comes to me with an offer of condolence. I can hardly process his words: made him as comfortable as possible, severe toxins, too late, very sorry for your loss.

The doctors and nurses exit. They’ve left me here with Ben for ‘closure.’ Whatever the hell that means. Because the truth is part of me knew we would end here from the time I was twelve years old. Another piece of me understands I will miss him for the rest of my life.

Ben lies still and peaceful. Will I see his spirit rise? I both desire and dread to at the same time.

A nurse placed his hands together over his stomach, such a thoughtful gesture on her part. As I sit there watching his face, it looks as though he’s resting. He could wake up any minute. Maybe his death is another bad dream, and when I wake up, he’ll be here, snoring in his chair. I just need to wake up, or wake Ben up, whichever.

Nothing happens as I watch my stepfather’s body. My mother doesn’t come to meet him, nor do I view his spirit departing. Did I see Cole because he was neither alive nor dead? I decide that must be so, as I’ve never seen anyone’s ghost before coming to the Maddox mansion.

Gideon appears in the doorway. He leans on his cane, giving me time. For what I don’t know.

“Gideon,” I say, as a tumble of thoughts spin in my brain. “You can fix this. Bring him back.” My tone flirts with an underlying hysteria.

His eyes widen, “What?”

“How hard can it be? You know magicians, your house is magic.” My voice rises as I stand. I move around the end of the bed. “Fix the camera and take his picture. Bring Ben back.”

“Raven … don’t.” His tone is a mix of fear and pity. A signal I’m over the edge, but I don’t care. I can’t be alone. I need Ben. Gideon reaches for me, but I whirl away.

“Do it, Gideon. You’re powerful, magic. I know you are! You can do anything if you want to.”

He lets out a heavy breath. Not one of anger. I sense determination and strength. “No, Raven, the camera is broken, but even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t do it. Not even for you. It’s wrong. You taught me that.”

“No!” I fly at him, pounding his chest with my fists. He stands there letting me hit him. “Your family trapped the souls of others for crimes they committed. This is
Ben,
for heaven’s sake. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” I gasp for breath between ranting and crying. “Do it. Do it for me!” The strength leaves my hands as I beat on him. His arms wrap me like iron bands. He curses softly, crushing me to him until I give way. Falling against him, I let the tears come freely.

“He’s gone,” Gideon whispers against the top of my head. “You’ll never trust me if I can’t be honest now.” He kisses my forehead, strokes my hair. “I’m sorry, Raven.” His voice catches. “My God, girl, I’d give anything for you but this. I cannot bring him back, nor would I. You were right. This is the way life is supposed to be. He’s with your mother. They’re together.” His hand runs the length of my back. “He’s with her right now.”

My desperation melts. He’s right. Let them go, I tell myself. “I can’t breathe.”

“I know.” He gathers me into his arms and carries me from the room. Down the hall, out of the sick ward we go to a porch on the other side of two, heavy glass doors. Outside, the air is clean and smells of freshly mown grass. The sun is shining and I wonder how it dares to show its face on such a sad day. A chilly breeze cools the tears on my cheeks, and I shiver.

He holds me closer, as if I’ll bolt if he puts me down. He’s half-right. Gideon limps over to a set of rattan couches in a little cove beside the door. I lean away, but he secures me on his lap. I give up resisting, curl into a ball, and nestle against his chest. He’s warm and comforting. His skin smells like salt and iron. I allow myself to feel close to him in this moment. He’s different, changed somehow, and I’m proud to say I know him. My love for him swells, threatening to engulf my aching heart, but I know it can’t last. Love lasts, but people don’t stay, and all that’s left are empty spaces in between.

Silhouettes and shadows with a chalk outline of someone that you used to love.

And what I know, what Gideon can’t understand, is that hardship and pain may be what knocks you down, but it’s survivable. It’s the threat of hope that truly kills. Daring to stretch your fingers toward your heart’s truest desire and then missing the mark—that’s what finishes you off for good.

I make a vow as the door to my heart slams shut. I’m never going to feel loss like this again.

Seventy-two hours after Ben’s passing, I finish my collection for Raedoxx Apparel. Curtain rods, doorframes, hooks, and vents all over my room and workspace are draped with the garments I created. I worked my little Goth butt off. Faster than I ever have before, but I was doubly inspired. The designs are a tribute to Ben, my farewell gift to Gideon, and the best work I have ever done.

Showered, packed, and organized, I sit on the end of the magnificent, winged bed Gideon loaned me and survey what I’ve created. Edgar jumps up on the comforter with a chirp and wanders onto my lap. “You and me, pal,” I say. The confidence in my tone is meant to bolster my courage. I’m leaving. Decided the night Ben died, but that doesn’t make going any easier.

I asked Jamis to bring my VW around to the front of the house. He didn’t ask why, and I didn’t offer an explanation. He and I have come to an understanding since the night he tattled to Gideon after finding Jenny and me in the pantry. She forgave him, and so did I. That doesn’t mean he’s my new BFF, though. He’s old-school, and he serves Gideon faithfully. We all do what we think is right. I can’t fault the guy for that, even if he is an old cranky-butt.