The House (30 page)

“But why did you take the job,” Anna had insisted on knowing.

“Because she asked me. It’s what I do.” Inman then confessed, “Helena McGrath is my aunt. She was my mother’s sister, my only living relative beyond Dancia.” That Inman had chosen family over friendship softened the blow. Yet, he remained committed to his position. “Believe me, I never knew that Manning Ventures was Edward’s company.”

Confused and frustrated, Anna said, “I wished you had at least called and given me forewarning.” Hurt and anger had mangled Anna’s hearing.

“I didn’t know it was your company,” Inman repeated.

“You’ve never heard the name
Manning
as in
Edward
Manning.”

“Of course I knew the name. I just never put the two together. You said he was in real estate. And you never told me that Edward had given you the company, that he had even formed one. Why didn’t you call me?” Inman said.

Anna hadn’t spoken with Inman since their night at Scott’s and their time afterwards. Three weeks had passed, nearly a month, since lying in Inman’s bed, her body satiated in warm, and yet tranquil, passion. Her mind had absorbed so much during the last twenty-one days, wherein Edward, who despite growing weaker by what sometimes seemed the hour, had prepped her for the board meeting followed by the late night sessions with Bryce downstairs in the kitchen. Anna recalled her intimacies with Edward, the reconciliation of their hearts and souls.

“Forgive me,” she said, “But my husband is dying.”

“So now he’s your husband?”

“Like Mrs. McGrath is your aunt,” Anna retorted.

“Seems like we’ve both been duped.” Inman’s closing words toiled their way through Anna’s mind.

Anna watched Helena carefully snip buds from her Ecuadorian rose bushes and lay them in the basket by her feet. They were the last ones that would sprout this season. Anna concluded others would return with Edward long gone.

She said, “Why did you choose Inman Hayes to represent you on the board of Manning Ventures?”

“It’s my prerogative.” Helena made a snip. “I also felt my holdings needed looking into.” Once more she gazed over the rim of her glasses. “All I have is invested in your husband’s company. It’ll be Inman’s when I die.” From all appearances Helena McGrath might outlive them all.

“The company’s mine now,” Anna said.

“I have no problem with that.” The old woman said. “In fact, I’ve been thinking for some time Manning Ventures needed new blood.”

And just what did she mean by that? Anna folded her arms.

The old woman said, “I like your husband, I mean your former husband. Or have you divorced yet?” She cut another stem bringing with it a beautifully formed pink rose.

“No.” Anna was torn between her frustration in the other trustees and board members and Helena’s prying into her private life. Yet as her parents had taught, she honored the elderly, of which the trustees were, of which Helena was the most senior.

“I hear he’s dying,” said Mrs. McGrath. The presence of what felt like the spirit of Anna’s mother in Helena McGrath intensified. “He is.”

“How long does he have?”

“Three to six months, or less.” Anna’s will to battle with the old woman left. Tears encroached upon her eyes. She wiped them.

“You’ll need help with your company,” Helena said. Diligently attending her rose bushes, she was yet to look back.

“I have Bryce.”

“Bryce is loyal. But he’s young.”

“So what do you suggest? Have Inman Hayes take over running the company?”

“That wouldn’t be such a bad idea. But he’s my nephew.” Helena McGrath turned to Anna from her rose bushes. “And that would present a conflict of interest.” Helena stood straight. Laying aside the clippers, she let her arms hang. “Let’s have some tea, shall we?”

Minutes later and at Helena’s kitchen table, Anna gathered her self. Helena returned the teapot to the stove and sat beside her at the kitchen table.

“I never liked the way Edward ran around,” said Helena.

Anna observed the basket of buds at the center of the table. Helena McGrath poured tea, gave Anna a cup.

“Canning always urged him to stop his philandering, warned Edward he would come to no good engaging in it.” Mrs. McGrath poured her cup of tea. “Then again, some men suffer so.”

The shock of how much the investors knew of Edward’s life grew thick and heavy. Then again, black folks were always in the know. It’s how they survived. Anna chastised herself for being such an idiot.

Helena sipped from her cup then returned it to its saucer. “You’re not like most wives of today, particularly not the black ones.”

“How is that? I’m more
stupid
?”

“You bided your time.” Helena gave a knowing smile.

“I never wanted Edward to die.”

“No. You wanted
him
. And when it became obvious that might never happen, you set out to create a new life for yourself. And you did it with no fuss.”

“What was I supposed to do?” On considering how much Helena McGrath knew about her, Anna reminded herself that Canning had been Edward’s mentor.

“You have a lot of alternatives,” Helena said. “Your children are grown. All doing well, I hear.”

“That’s debatable.” Anna lamented David and Theo’s marriages stitched together by a thread unraveling. And then there was Serine who couldn’t make up her mind about who she loved, or whether she was even capable of affection and commitment.

“They’ve completed college, graduate school, I’m told” , Helena said. “Some are married.”

An image of Linda and Brad rose in Anna’s mind. Her heart slowed. “My eldest daughter is expecting her first child, my third grandchild.”

“That’s a blessing,” Helena said.

Anna settled deeper into herself. “How much has Inman told you about me?”

“Enough to know that you’re not eager to rush into another marriage.”

“And is he?” A rush of relief filled Anna. Although she still felt exposed.

“I’m not going to lie.” The old woman returned her cup to the table then interwove her fingers. “My nephew loves you. I should also say he had no idea that the company I held stock in was Ed ward Manning’s, or what do we call it now?
Manning Ventures.
Only after I asked him to look over the proxies and spreadsheets, did I add that I also wanted him to represent me on the board. He didn’t learn about the meeting until the night before.”

“So why did you do this? Why did you set me up?” Anna said. “Why do you presume that I’m trying to take over your company, that I set you up? Inman could say the same of me concerning him.”

“Has he?” Anna said.

“Not to me. You might want to speak to him about that. His mother was my elder sister,” said Helena McGrath. Anna wondered how much she could or should trust this woman. Helena said, “You’ll probably be seeing him before me.” Again she brought the cup to her thin lips and sipped her tea, then added, “He’s pretty angry with me right now.”

Helena placed her cup of tea in the saucer, set both palms upon the table then pushed her slight body to stand. No more than five feet and perhaps a few inches in height, the woman wore a house dress that Anna wanted to wash. Anna detected an air of sadness as she observed the old woman wiping down her range. Perhaps Helena McGrath posed no problems.

Anna lifted her purse. “Thank you for seeing me.” She walked to Mrs. McGrath and extended her hand.

Helena smiled on accepting it. “I hate when people presume to know everything and don’t seek evidence of their fears. I’m glad we talked.”

She led Anna to the door. It was a small house, a few rooms that sat at the end of the block on a street in Berkeley not too far from San Pablo Avenue. Few would recognize it as the home of the owner of over one hundred million dollars. Anna felt ashamed of her prejudices.

Anna stepped outside and turned back to Helena standing in the doorway, one hand holding open the screen door. The other steadied her small frame against the entryway. Helena reiterated her appreciation of the visit. “I’m glad you took the time to come by. It gets pretty lonely around here. I miss my husband.”

“I’m told that his boxes were unique and well-designed,” Anna said.

“They were a hobby that Edward was instrumental in transforming into a successful business. Sales from those boxes keep me afloat in Canning’s absence.” Helena McGrath was doing more than remaining afloat. Yet Anna sensed that she had been speaking about matters that lay beyond money. The demure little woman lifted her hand and added, “Canning’s boxes are to me what Manning Ventures is to you,” then pointed to Anna. “Perhaps we can do for each other what our husbands accomplished between themselves.” Anna frowned at the perplexity so obvious in the old woman’s statement. From the pocket of her housedress Helena lifted a small rosebud and presented it to Anna. “I never liked all those women with whom Edward was involved. But then Canning would always remind me how well Edward saw to you and the children.” Anna shuddered in contemplation of how many discussions of her and Edward’s marriage Helena and Canning McGrath had carried out.

“Thank you.” Tears filled her eyes on accepting the orange-pink bud.

Helena said, “Canning always said that men hurt just like women. ‘We men don’t know how to heal. We’re not like the women we bring pain to. Nowhere as strong.’ Those were his words. Since Canning’s death, I’ve come to see that Edward was hurting.” Anna took a long, stiff swallow. Helena said, “It’s hard watching your mother struggle day-in and day-out. Violet was trying to make ends meet and never able to catch her breath.”

Anna was about to ask about how she knew Violet when Helena McGrath said, “Canning found hope in his boxes. The money they brought was just extra. It was what he wished to have given his mother.”

Again she looked to the bud now appearing more orange than pink. More tears came.?

Chapter 43

Anna left Helena McGrath’s house and started to Bryce’s office in downtown Oakland. The Ecuadorian rosebud lay on the front passenger seat. As she exited onto Highway 24, her cell phone rang. It was Bertrice. “You need to come home.”

Anna dialed Bryce. “Bertrice called,” she explained. “Said I needed to come home. It’s Edward.”

“Okay. Let me know what’s up,” Bryce said, then added, “If I don’t hear from you in a half hour, I’ll be over.”

Anna turned the car around, and headed home.

Anna met Bertrice midway up the stairs. The look on Bertrice’s face pulled at Anna. Bertrice said, “He’s moaning and calling for you.”

“Can’t you give him something? I won’t have him in pain and suffering.”

Anna didn’t want to see Edward, not like this. She needed time to sort things out. Life was crowding in. Manning Ventures. Inman. Helena McGrath. Anna’s discovery of Canning McGrath’s relation ship with Edward. Though twenty years apart in ages, Canning and Edward had shared similar childhoods, perhaps even a penchant for extramarital relations. And then, there was Helena McGrath, Inman’s aunt.

Bertrice said of Edward. “I’ve given him the morphine. It’s you he now needs.”

Anna bit her lip, angry that Edward couldn’t have asked for her in the years prior. She made her way up the steps, pushed open the door to the bedroom, and walked to Edward asleep upon bed. He lay curled like a baby in a crib. The Ecuadorian rosebud Anna had received from Helena McGrath was in the pocket of Anna’s sweater. Beside it was Anna’s wedding band that she had kept in her pocket ever since visiting her father’s gravestone.

Like all other changes and transformation wrought by life, the dying of her husband went against everything in Anna; it defied the laws of physics stabilizing her mind. Edward, and people like him, by Anna’s estimation were to have outlived those like her. Anna had felt the same about her mother compared to her father. Elena had been stern and strong; Elijah, deeply emotional and feeling weak, in Anna’s estimation, frail, and unable to cope and succeed like herself. Anna and her father had been uncertain and fearful, and not quite sure of life or themselves. They had felt uncertain of their power and ability to survive the world, and weather storms and losses.

Despite being a man who distributed the word of God, Reverend Elijah Chason had made plain the doubts he held. It was the one thing Anna’s mother had hated about him. One Sunday after church she had pressured Anna’s father concerning his fierce questioning of life.

She said, “If you don’t trust the Lord, you can’t expect the congregation to trust you.” Earlier that morning Elijah had spoken, during his sermon, of the venomous gray areas that plagued life and living.

“I never said I didn’t trust God,” Elijah defended. “I’m just not going to lie about the questions I hold.”

All three had sat eating dinner, the Reverend Elijah at one end of the oval, dark pine table; Elena at the other and facing him. Anna sat in the middle, an empty chair across from her. Fifteen years old and finding a narrow way through high school, Anna yearned for Elena’s counsel to guide and comfort her.

Elena said to Elijah, “Your questions show a lack of faith, and raise doubts about you.”