The Vigil (19 page)

“I missed the game today. Dad said I could go, but it didn't seem right to be having fun when Mama wasn't.”

“Steven, I may not know a lot, but I know one thing, your Mama would want you to have fun playing the game you love any chance you get. That's just how she was.”

“I'll play again. Just not today.”

“I understand.”

I brought Steven to Beau. It was a time for family and after Beau assured me that there was nothing I could get for either him or Steven, I said good-bye and slipped from the room. As I walked out, the dreadful realization stung that my good-bye to Annie would be my last.

 

****

 

That evening the dining room of Charlie's Seafood bustled as usual for a Saturday night. Two smaller tables pushed together formed our table for six, but we had a corner in one of the quieter rooms. Mama and the owner's wife had been best friends since grade school so I suspected the short wait and quiet corner were not coincidences.

Mawmaw sat at the end of the table with Mama and Aunt Melanie flanking each side. We chatted over appetizers of bacon wrapped oysters, cheese stuffed jalapenos, and shrimp cocktails.

My sadness from earlier still hung heavy, but tonight I appreciated more than ever being with my family no matter how dysfunctional. I leaned over toward Angelle who sat across from me. “How are you enjoying spending so much time at home again?”

She smiled. “It's much easier now that I don't live here. How about you?”

“It's not bad. I've had the chance to clear out some of the cobwebs of the past.”

She nodded. “I know what you mean. I'm really enjoying my time with your brother. I'm glad to say that's one thing from my past that's good to have around. I'm not letting him get away again.”

I laughed. “I'm sure Anthony feels the same.”

Anthony returned to the table. As he sat in his chair, he asked, “I feel the same about what?”

Angelle arched her eyebrow and a mischievous grin twitched her lips before she turned to him. “I'll tell you later.”

Boiled crabs filled a tray in the middle of the table and individual dishes of fried shrimp, blackened redfish, and for Mama, a broiled flounder.

The waitress brought the check, and Mama stealthily placed her credit card inside the folder. When Anthony and I protested, she raised her hands. “My treat. I don't get to do this often, so let me enjoy it.”

Once the tab was settled, we stood out on the wooden porch of the restaurant and said our good-byes.

“Oh, Anthony, could you stop by Mama's house tomorrow and get Mawmaw's trunks out of the attic for me?”

“Sure. No problem, but it'll have to be very early in the morning. Angelle and I are going fishing tomorrow. Leavin' at the crack of dawn.”

Angelle groaned. “I still can't believe I let him talk me into this.”

Mawmaw stood from the bench. “Wait a minute. What trunks are you talkin' about?”

“You know, the ones with the clothes you said I could look through for a costume.”

Her face contorted into a sea of wrinkles and her brow furrowed. “I never gave my permission for anyone to go browsing through my trunks.”

I swallowed and stared. What? Her words pierced. “Mawmaw, don't you remember we talked about going together to the
fais do do
, and I would be dressed as a younger version of you?”

She shook her head—defiance gleamed in her eyes. “Nope. Never said nothin' of the sort.”

Mama and I exchanged glances. Her brow furrowed and a frown replaced her brilliant smile from earlier. She placed her hand on Mawmaw's shoulder. “Mama, you told Cheryl she could look through the trunks several weeks ago. Have you changed your mind?”

“Nope, didn't change my mind.” Her voice grew louder and more determined. “Because I never said she could go through my stuff.”

I reached for my grandmother's hand. “It's OK. I won't go through the trunks if you don't want me to. No harm done.”

She pulled away from my touch and glared with vacant eyes—a stranger's eyes. “Yes, there is harm done. It's not right for people to assume they can invade other people's privacy.”

Anthony stepped closer. If anyone could calm her, he could. “C'mon, Mawmaw, you can ride home with me and Angelle.”

“Nope, I think I'll walk. My house is jus' around the curve.”

Concern flashed in Anthony's eyes. “Your house is five miles from here. You can't walk. Besides the mosquitoes will eat you up.” He swatted at a bug hovering around his face.

“I'm about tired of being told what I can and can't do.” Mawmaw crossed her arms and sat on the bench. “Now you all go about your business and leave me alone.”

Aunt Melanie whispered into Mama's ear and then sat next to Mawmaw. “Mama, we can walk to my house if you want.”

“Nope. Honey, I'll be jus' fine.” She patted Aunt Melanie's leg, and then crossed her arms and leaned back on the wooden bench.

Mama sat on the other side of Mawmaw. “Mama, I'll sit here with you. My legs are a bit tired.”

“OK, baby girl. You rest right here next to me. I think these fine people were leaving, anyway.”

“Yes, I think they are.”

Anthony guided me and Angelle off the porch and out of hearing distance. “Have you noticed anything like this before?”

I shook my head. “Never.”

“Do you think she's having another stroke?”

My heart raced.
Please, Lord, no.

We stood at the edge of the parking lot, glancing back to see Mama and Aunt Melanie with heads bowed sitting next to Mawmaw. Were they praying?

Lord, keep her safe and healthy.
The prayer flowed through my heart

Anthony touched my arm. “I'll go check on her. Maybe we should bring her to the hospital.” He closed the distance to the porch in a few long strides. After a few minutes, Mama, Aunt Melanie, and Mawmaw, with the help of Anthony, walked toward the parking lot.

“Cheryl, are you giving me a ride home?” Mawmaw asked.

I shot a quick glance toward Mama, and then to Anthony. “If you're feeling OK?”

“Why wouldn't I be feeling OK? We had a great meal and good company. Nothin' finer. But it is getting late, and it's past my bedtime.”

“It's only eight thirty,” Anthony chimed in.

“Yep, thirty minutes past. You young people forget. I go to bed at the same time as the chickens.”

“Cheryl, once you get Mama settled in your car, could you come see me?” Mama said.

I raced to my car, started the engine, turned on the air conditioner, and then helped Mawmaw get settled into the front seat. “Mawmaw, I have to talk to Mama for a second. I'll be right back.”

“Sure, honey. I'll be right here waitin' for you.”

Mama, Aunt Melanie, Anthony, and Angelle stood a few yards away next to Anthony's car. When I approached, they turned toward me.

“Is she OK to spend the night alone?” I asked.

Mama's face held an unusual shade, much paler than her normal color. “I can't convince her to go to the hospital. She doesn't remember saying those things. Mel will take me home to get my car and clothes. I'll come up with some reason to spend tonight at her house.”

“It might be easier for me to do that. I'll stay with her tonight. Don't worry. Mama, Aunt Mel, I'll call you if anything happens.”

Anthony reached for my arm. “Me, too. OK?”

I nodded. “That was the strangest thing I've ever seen with her.”

“Me, too,” Mama said.

Anthony chuckled. “Guess we should not be poking around in those trunks, eh, Sis?”

“I guess not.”

We hugged good night and as I walked to my car a small part of me wondered if my very astute grandmother had just put on a show for her family. Had she changed her mind about me going through the trunks and didn't want to admit it? Surely, she wouldn't have gone through such an elaborate display just to keep me from opening those trunks.

 

 

 

 

Vingt Et Un

 

Once she'd gone to bed, I'd slipped back to her house and made myself as comfortable as possible on her sofa—an antique torture device I'd renamed the Duncan Phyfe Rack. A few times during the night I sneaked into her bedroom to check on her. Her snoring remained steady. Sunday morning, the incessant
beep, beep
of my phone alarm roused me from my fitful sleep.

I folded the blankets and returned them to her closet. After waking Mawmaw, as I'd done most mornings for the past few weeks, with a fresh cup of her rich coffee, I sat at her kitchen table with a large cup of the aromatic brew. Once she'd finished her cup in bed and joined me in the kitchen, I examined her face. Deeper wrinkles circled her eyes and forehead while the corners of her eyes drooped.

“Mawmaw, are you feeling OK this morning?”

She nodded. “Just a bit tired.”

“Do you remember anything unusual last night at the restaurant?”

She shrugged. “No. I don't. Did something happen?”

“Yes, you got pretty upset when I asked Anthony to remove your trunks from Mama's attic. Do you remember anything about that?”

“No. Why do you have to remove them?”

“It's too hot to go through them in the attic.”

“Oh, I see.” She stared out the kitchen window. I followed her gaze and enjoyed the sunrise breaking over the pasture behind her house. “Don't know why I'd be upset about that. Just a bunch of old dresses and stuff in there.”

“Well, you were pretty upset about me going through those trunks.”

“Cheryl, I don't remember that.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think I may have had another stroke?”

“I don't know Mawmaw, but I think it might be best to let Mama take you in for a checkup.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “OK.” Her gaze met mine head-on while tears formed along the corners of her eyes. “Cheryl, it's OK for you to go through those trunks.” She patted the top of my hand, but fear continued to steal the softness of her warm blue eyes.

I swallowed hard and paused.

“Mawmaw, I'll come by after church to pick you up, and we'll go through the trunks together. OK?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

I fixed breakfast and lingered a while longer. After our second cup of coffee, I rose to leave.

Mawmaw was back to her old self again. She looped her arm through mine and walked me to the door. “I'm glad to see you're going to church. I've failed in my Christian walk and therefore failed your mother, also.”

I patted her hand. “It's never too late, you know. You're welcome to come to church with me today. And I wouldn't worry too much about Mama. I believe answered prayer has guided Mama where she needs to be.”

“Really? Whose?”

“Aunt Melanie's.”

She smiled for the first time since last night and it warmed my heart to see her eyes sparkle again. “I'm glad to hear that. Glad to hear it. That girl always took after her father more than her mother.” She winked at me. “I think I'll pass on church today, but maybe another time. Maybe another time.”

“OK, but anytime, you're welcome to come with me.”

 

****

 

I slipped into the back row of Grace Community Church just as the praise band began the morning worship. The lyrics to the popular song stirred my spirit as I followed the rhythm. The time in church flew by, and I became immersed in Chuck's message. He spoke on knowing God so I could know His will for my life. It made sense. What didn't make sense was why I couldn't do it. I wanted to know God more. I wanted to know His will for me.

As I walked out of church after the service, Beau fell in step next to me.

“Cheryl, it's good to see you in church.” His voice lacked his usual enthusiastic tone.

“You, too, Beau. I'm glad to be here. Any change with Annie?” We walked toward my car.

He shook his head. “Gerald and his wife are there with Steven. I had to come to church. I needed something to recharge me. I'm heading to be with her now.”

His sad eyes pierced a hole through me. What could I possibly say to relieve his pain? Nothing. I knew that. But I could do something. I stopped. He stopped. I placed my hand on his arm and bowed my head. “Heavenly Father, I lift Beau up to You. Place Your hand on his heart, and give him Your peace. Ease his pain Lord with the bounty of Your love. Amen.” Warmth spread through my face, not contributed to the high midday temperatures. I had never prayed out loud or in public for anyone before. I didn't understand what had prompted me to do so, but it felt right.

Before he turned to leave, our eyes met.

In them, I saw gratitude. “Cheryl, thanks so much for the prayer. It means a lot. Keep praying will you?”

“I will.” I reached for the handle of my car door. “Good-bye, Beau.”

“Good-bye, Cheryl.” He walked away with slumped shoulders and looked very much like an adult version of how his son had looked yesterday.

I slid into the driver's seat and took a deep breath, pushing back a flood of tears. His grief drilled through me. And when I thought of his Steven, my heart twisted.
Lord, be with them. Be with the whole family. Give them peace.

 

****

 

“Mawmaw.” I opened the screened door on my grandmother's porch and walked into her kitchen. A teakettle was on the stove with the burner at full flame. “Mawmaw.”

As I passed her bedroom, I noticed the bed was unmade. Not at all like my grandmother. She usually made the bed the minute she bounced out of it. I increased my pace as I continued through the house looking for her. While in the living room, the teakettle's high-pitched whistle broke through the uncanny silence. Surely, if she was anywhere in the house, that would bring her out.