The Gardener of Aria Manor Page 10

  Ilene grinned sheepishly and turned back toward the sea. “I hope your room is suitable.”

  Janie allowed the deflection. “Yes, it is. Thank you.” She strode over to the piano. Her fingers brushed against its smooth lines and danced softly in Debussy’s Prelude A L’Apres-Midi D’un Faune, quietly trickling like the rain that had begun to patter against the windowpanes.

  Taken unawares, Ilene dared not look, but hesitantly turned a head with stilled breath.

  Her heart leapt, buoyed by the radiant melody. Finally she exhaled. “My, we’re just full of surprises, aren’t we?”

  “More than you or I probably know,” Janie replied.

  Ilene barely had time to notice that the music had stopped before she felt Janie’s hot breath on her neck. Her closeness startled Ilene and she gasped. The blood rushed to her thighs and her breathing became sporadic in her embattlement. Only once had she allowed her heart to escape. That one blissful moment when a poem had initiated the merging of their souls, unannounced, uninvited. As the surge of sea it returned, a specter that touched her, lingered in the breath upon her skin. The long await. The longing. A forbidden pulse of passion, if only in her own mind, that rested within her breast, unceasing in its desire, yet untouched.

  “Do you know what you want?” Janie murmured softly.

  The words sent a shiver through Ilene. Breathlessly, she denied them. “No.”

  “Do you want to know what I want?”

  Now, more than before, the specter pulled her. The desire was there to grasp, to hold onto and to be lost in. Ilene closed her eyes and fought against it with all her will. She knew she couldn’t give in to such a need. But it was so strong, and Janie was so close.

  Ilene slowly shook her head. “No.”

  After a long moment’s silence, she heard the sound of a door closing softly. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that she was alone. She fell back against the piano, her hands grasping its hard edges. She stared through the window at the stormy sky.

  “Oh, why didn’t you tell me I was in love?”

  JANIE DESCENDED THE stairs and started to head toward the kitchen, when she saw Anna and Liz standing outside the closed library doors at the other end of the hall. They beckoned to her and she joined them. “What are you doing?” Janie asked when upon them.

  “Shhhh.” Anna whispered, “The doctor came over to talk to the Major and Teddy about Teddy’s x-rays.”

  “Teddy’s not taking it very well, whatever it is,” Liz added.

  “Bless his poor heart,” murmured Anna. “He’s been through so much.”

  “Doctor Collier ‘as an awful lot of experience, I ‘ear. Was at the battle of the Somme. Messy stories there ‘e’s told.” Liz pulled Janie down to the keyhole. “Come on. Take in an ear full.”

  With patients like Teddy, Janie was sure Collier had to have a grounding in mending the mind as well as the body, as there was only so much optimism one could maintain.

  “If we don’t operate, the infection will spread,” Collier said gravely.

  “You’re not taking my legs!”

  “Theodore,” the Major pleaded. “Please, son, listen to him. We’ve considered every other option. Trust that what he says is true.”

  Teddy’s face was swollen with tears. “Can’t you see I’m already half a man?” His resentment was replaced by hopelessness. “You take my legs, and I’ll be nothing! A living corpse!”

  Collier persisted. “If we don’t remove both legs, you’ll die!”

  “Then I will die with both legs intact, Doctor! A whole man!”

  Teddy’s ferocity drew a weighty sigh from the doctor. Collier shrugged as he met the Major’s gaze. After a moment, the Major nodded his permission for the doctor to leave them. Collier picked up his bag and hat, and slung his coat over an arm. He followed the Major to the door.

  “I understand it’s quite a shock to him, Denys,” Collier said sympathetically.

  “He just needs a little time for all this to sink in.”

  Collier drew an insistent breath. “I’m afraid time is one thing we haven’t got.”

  Janie and Liz had been taking turns looking through the keyhole when they saw the two men approaching. “Jiggers!” Liz hissed. “They’re comin’.”

  Anna grabbed Liz and Janie and scurried into the foyer.

  “This is ridiculous,” Janie objected.

  “We do this all the time.” Liz snatched a vase off a table and shoved it into Janie’s hands. “’Ere, act like you’re ‘elpin’.”

  “Helping what?”

  Liz whipped out a feather duster and grinned slyly just as the two men strode into the foyer. Janie eyed the piece intently, as if interested in its flowing design.

  “Well, would you look at that,” Janie commented. “It’s from China.”

  Liz elbowed her as the men passed. “’Ow did ya think we know everythin’ that’s goin’ on around ’ere? We’ve got this down to a fine art, we do.”

  Janie frowned and shoved the vase back into Liz’s arms before turning down the hall toward the kitchen.

  “ARE YOU SURE you won’t be staying, Doctor?” asked the Major. “The storm is bound to sustain itself through most of the night.”

  “Thank you, Denys,” Collier said, “but I’ve been invited over to Dr. Lot’s for supper. We’ve an ongoing discussion of the benefits of using research animals in progressive lymph node studies. It’s a most exhilarating exchange.”

  The Major smiled distractedly. “Yes. Well then.”

  “You can ring me there if you have need of me. I shall return in the morning. I’ll need Teddy’s answer by then, Denys,” he reminded him with portentous intent.

  A sigh withdrew from the Major’s proud chest. “Right. Thank you, Doctor.”

  A troubled frown formed on his face as he closed the door behind Collier. His heart heavy with indecision, the Major stared blankly at the black and white tiles beneath his feet. When he looked up, he called to Janie at the door to the kitchen. “If I may have a moment of your time, Miss Vaughn.”

  Janie turned around.“Of course,” she answered, gesturing into the kitchen.

  Denys watched as Janie ducked her head into the icebox. He cleared his throat, coughed and then said hesitantly, “I was wondering if you...could have a talk with my son.”

  Janie withdrew and plopped a length of kosher sausage on the counter with a jar of kosher pickles. “A talk?”

  “Yes. You seem to have the knack of being a good listener. And Theodore does enjoy speaking with you.”

  “This discussion sounds awfully familiar. Haven’t we had it once already?”

  He joined her at the island counter where she was cutting a slice from a chunk of cheese. “Well, it’s...different circumstances, I assure you,” he said uneasily.

  “Would you care for a plate?”

  “No. But, um, thank you.” He hesitated, then asked, “Are you by any chance Jewish?”

  “Me? Jewish?” Janie chuckled nervously. “No. No, no. Not Jewish.” She munched on the dill and then stopped at the questioning eyebrow he raised at her food choices. “Oh, this? It’s a...sort of care package from a friend in New York. He’s Jewish. To be honest, I rather miss eating kosher food. I grew up around it.”

  “I imagine one could easily succumb to the variety of cultural fare offered in America, it being the eclectic country that it is.”

  Janie laughed. “You have no idea.”

  Denys swept a bottle of Port wine off the counter and followed her to a small table. He sat down beside her and poured two glasses. The Major smiled. “Ah, when I was a child, we would sit around the fire and my father would tell us of his adventures in America’s wild country—shooting buffalo, elk, and all that. Six children later, family life revolved around my father’s tales of African hunts and American adventures. Needless to say, I fell in love with the idea of moving to America when I was grown. Texas, as I recall.”

  The wine had put a flush in Janie’
s cheeks. “So, what happened?”

  He gestured to the house. “Being the only male among six children, I inherited more than a bit of responsibility along with the estate.”

  “So, you never made it to Texas?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. But I have visited New York twice. I can understand your fondness for it.”

  Janie leaned back in the chair and propped her feet on the table, then quickly dropped them to the floor in the face of his disapproving frown. “New York is a city that would not give a second thought to swallowing up another immigrant to be lost in its tentacles, scarcely acknowledged by the sea of rich or poor, wage earners or homeless, alive or dead. The thing about life in New York is that if you come to New York, you either make it or you don’t. And if you don’t, you didn’t try.”

  The Major took a breath, then plunged forward. “I hope you’ve not found us at Aria Manor, well...boring.”

  “No. Absolutely not. As a matter of fact, I find all of Aria Manor quite...entertaining.”

  “Good.” The Major beamed. “Which brings us back to my original request.”

  Janie grimaced. “Denys, are you sure you want me to do this? I mean, amputation is a really personal issue.” She noted his eyebrow raised in question. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Thin walls.”

  He tipped his head in a minute shrug and grunted. “Yes, well. Quite the sensitive issue at that, I do agree. Which is all the more reason I am asking you. You see, his sister and I are...well, too close to Theodore really. With family, one isn’t as willing to ask for help or even admit they need help. The topic is best pursued by someone unbiased, unrelated to the issue all together. My son is in a very vulnerable period. I know. I’ve been there.”

  Janie sighed deeply and stood. “I know he is, Denys. I saw it in his eyes the moment we were introduced. I’ve seen people’s souls that way, with absolute abandonment of faith, in their god, in their government, and harboring a belief that there is no chance the horror in their life can be resolved.”

  The Major stood to his full height and looked into her sympathetic eyes. “So, you see reason for my concern?”

  She ran her fingers through her thick blonde hair. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. I’m not a priest.”

  “Just be yourself.”

  “Ah-h.” She coughed. “You don’t want that.”

  Ignoring her self-deprecating comment, he said, “Look. I don’t know what you did to bring Ilene out of her shell, but whatever it was, the results are nothing short of remarkable. All I ask is that you speak to my son. Maybe just spend some quiet time together in the library. I’m afraid for him, Carolyn.”

  “Ilene doesn’t know, does she?”

  “No. She and her brother are very close. News of this kind would crush her surely.”

  Janie sighed finally and with eyes closed, submitted.

  “All right.”

  THE DOOR TO the library creaked open and Janie slipped inside. Teddy sat in front of the fireplace, his drawn face lit by the orange red ballet of the fire. He acknowledged her presence with a slight turn of his head.

  “I’m not disturbing you, am I?” she asked.

  He snorted into his snifter of brandy. “Not at all. I was just leaving.”

  She did not have much patience for people who wallowed in self-pity and disillusionment. Only the thought of Ilene kept her response civil. “Don’t bother,” she said. “I’m just here to grab a book, if that’s alright with you.”

  Teddy flashed a cynical grin as he watched her ascend the spiral staircase. “Well, go on. Say it.”

  Janie eyed the books before her. “Say what?”

  He wheeled himself around in order to see her more easily. “Whatever it is Father sent you in to lecture me about.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Come on, Carolyn. For God’s sake, I’m not stupid.”

  She pulled a copy of Byron’s poems from the shelf. “No. Of course you’re not.”

  “Stop patronizing me.”

  “What’s the matter with you? I thought you wanted to be left alone.”

  “What I want is a straight answer.”

  “What’s the question?”

  Teddy slammed his snifter down on a nearby table. “Did he or didn’t he ask you to talk some sense into me?”

  He needs someone to slap some sense into him, she thought. Janie opened the book and rested a hip against the balustrade.

  “Answer me, dammit!”

  Janie lifted her head and closed the book with a sigh. “Yeah, he did. But I’m not going to. You’re not worth it.”

  “Just who the bloody hell do you think you are?”

  She descended the steps stiffly. “I can tell you who I’m not.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “What you want is someone to swoon over you and feel sorry for you, to bleed for you, to commiserate about your unjust plight. Well, I’m not that person, Teddy.”

  “What the hell do—”

  “You’re not worth a goddamn nickel to yourself,” she interrupted angrily. “Why the hell should I even bother? You’re a grown man, you’ve made your decision. Live with it, and leave others their peace.”

  Wide-eyed with astonishment, he blurted, “You don’t know me! You know nothing about me!”

  “Oh, I’ve seen plenty of people like you. They’re worthless, bitter, mistrustful bastards, throwing their tantrums and taking their ill fortunes out on their loved ones to such an extent that everyone ends up hateful and spiteful, killing one another. Or they end up as one of the homeless shells that walk the streets in a perpetual daze. Nothing in them, because they gave all they had, and it still wasn’t enough. They’re broken. Broken, miserable sots. So, they merely exist until some twisted fate of kindness runs them over in the street, or sickness or alcohol results in their death. Only then do they find peace.”

  She peered into his doubtful eyes, aware that something had sunk in. “Yeah, I’ve seen it all, everything life can dish out. It walks on city streets with more faces than you can imagine. And what you see in others, you hope to God you never see staring back in the mirror.” She glanced up at the tapestry of Jacob wrestling the angel. “It amazes me just how much our bodies, minds, and spirits can endure if we’re mule headed enough to want to fight to stay alive.”

  She abruptly turned toward the door.

  “Carolyn, wait.”

  Janie opened the door, startled to be staring at the Major with Anna and Liz, their faces full of differing expressions. Watching them shuffle down the hall, she quietly closed the door again.

  When she turned back to him, Teddy was visibly uneasy. His jaws were clenched and his hand nervously rubbed the arm of his wheelchair.

  “I wish you’d try to understand,” he muttered. “I am not like those other people. At least...I don’t want to be. But I can’t lose my legs, Carolyn. I just can’t.” He broke into tears.

  Janie relaxed her frigidity with a deep sigh, picked up his glass and took it over to the nearby tray of decanters. Setting the book aside, she poured both of them a brandy. She handed him his glass and then threw a log on the fire that was burning low.

  “I wish I had your strength,” he said, breaking the silence.

  She scoffed at the idea. “The trick to being rooted is not to be.” She sat on the limestone ledge and brushed the dirt from her hands. “The world is impulsive, Teddy,” she continued. “You’ll find there’s a pattern to everything. When you find the one you want, ride it for all its worth. It becomes predictable after a while. Oh, every now and again someone will throw a rod in your spoke and screw everything up, but that’s when I dig my roots in a little deeper.”

  “Carolyn, I’m dying.” Teddy spoke as if the thought had traversed his tongue a thousand times before. “There’s a great chance I’ll die even if my legs are removed.”

  She hadn’t heard that when she had been listening at the door. “What do you mean?”

&nb
sp; He inhaled deeply but did not speak. Janie pulled out her cigarette case and offered it to him.

  “I was in Vienna interviewing foreign students who had come to the British Embassy from Poland.” He reached for a cigarette. “One day when we were conducting our business at an outdoor café, a disturbance broke out in the square. I was told the rioters were known German Nazi sympathizers. I was well aware of their anti-Semitism.”

  “Where were the local authorities?”

  “Incompetent, though through no fault of their own. These attacks were so sporadic at times it would be over as soon as it started, with no one to arrest. And witnesses were afraid to testify for fear of their lives.”

  Janie shook her head and exhaled a smoke ring. “New York has ways of dealing with street gangs, by outnumbering them with a gang of your own.”

  That actually drew a smile. “Yes. I believe you call them Mafia.” He gulped some brandy. “As few in number as these Nazi youth are, they are a reputable danger to be reckoned with, I’m afraid.” He stared into the fire.

  “I knew by the group’s approach that their intentions were not good. Word must have leaked out these were Jewish students, because what ensued was nothing less than a clearly coordinated offensive.” He shuddered. “The screams of the students caused the citizens to scatter at once. We fled, trying to keep the students together, but with twenty-four of them, it was quite difficult to stay in a group as we ran along narrow streets. We were bound to lose a few.”

  His brow knotted with anguish. “The mob filled the alley and closed in on two students. Their cries hung in the air as they were struck with fists and sticks and metal pipes.” He took a deep draught of brandy.

  “I pushed the others toward the embassy, urging them not to stop, not to look back, but the students panicked and scattered. A few of us ducked into a nearby building. It was no use. We were surrounded. Shots were fired, and then a hand grenade was thrown into the building.”

  Janie winced. She had seen the street wars in New York waged by Italian dons, and they were no less gruesome. A heart filled with hatred had no room for reason, for humanity.