The Quaker Café (22 page)

             
“Of course, what?”

             
“For starters, there are some bills that will come in mid-month. I’ve gone ahead

and signed the checks
. If you would just fill the amount in when they arrive, and stick them in the mail for me?”

             
“That’s no problem. Where are the checks?”

             
“Upstairs, in my third desk drawer on the right.”

             
“Can do.”

             
“I’ve also taken out about four thousand in cash and put it in the safe to cover the four weeks I’m gone. LuAnne and the farmhands get paid on Fridays at noon. I’ve made out envelopes for each one with their names on them and put the cash inside.”

             
“There’s a safe?” Liz asked.

             
“Of course there’s a safe. You don’t think I’d leave thousands of dollars in a drawer, do you?”

             
“So where’s the safe?”

             
Maggie straightened and stood up. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

             
They climbed the back stairs. Liz noticed Maggie moved more slowly than usual. On the fifth step Maggie stopped briefly, closed her eyes and took a long slow breath. At the top, she paused again, held onto the railing, and again, bent forward slightly and took another breath. This was a new development in Maggie that Liz hadn’t noticed before.

Then, just like in the movies, Maggie approached the portrait of her grandfather, Marshall C. Kendall, Jr., and removed it from the hook to reveal a safe flush with the wall
.

             
“He was a Scrooge, you know?” Maggie said as she tilted her head towards the picture.

             
“So you’ve told me.”

             
“We thought we’d let him protect the money since he thought so highly of it. I guess one day I’ll need to give it away, set up a scholarship fund or something.”

Maggie stepped back and let Liz mov
e in front of the safe. Maggie recited the combination and let her open it. The safe was about two feet wide, two feet high and a foot deep. A stack of envelopes sat on the right side with a rubber band around them. Several documents were arranged across the back and a number of small jewelry boxes were stacked in front. On top of everything was a cloth sack with oil stains on it.

             
“What’s in the bag?” Liz asked.

             
“A gun,” Maggie said.

             
“Your father’s?”

             
“Of course.” She took the bag and pulled out a Smith and Wesson with the letter K engraved into the handle. “The bullets are in this separate bag, if you ever need them.”

             
“Not me. I don’t want anything to do with a gun. Quaker. We’re those conscientious objectors, remember?”

             
“I remember.” Maggie set the gun on the credenza. “It belonged to Daddy, but I don’t know when he ever used it.” She shuffled through the contents. “Daddy’s will is in here. I’ll put mine with it.”

Maggie pulled out several small jewelry boxes and handed them to Liz one at a time.

“What’s in these?” Liz asked.

“Necklaces, rings, and things
. Don’t know what I’ll do with it all. No relatives. You want any of them?”

             
“No, Maggie, I don’t.” Liz scolded her, “For God’s sake. Who knows in five to ten years what you might want to do with them.”

             
“Let me show you something,” Maggie said as she opened one box. Inside was a necklace with a blue sapphire that shone from an antique silver setting attached to a delicate rope chain. She walked over to the portrait of her mother and held up the necklace next to the painting, and there rested the necklace around her mother’s slender neck. “That’s the only thing I have from her; that and her wedding ring. Daddy gave it to her on their wedding day. Told me it was a Kashmir Sapphire.”

             
“That’s special,” Liz said.

Maggie glan
ced at the necklace and then back at the portrait. “I’ve always wondered what really happened between them.” She twisted the necklace in her hands as she looked at both sides. “I sort of thought he might marry again. There were lots of women.”

             
“I think he had too good a deal going between Miss Ellie cooking his food and LuAnne cleaning the house. Why mess it up with a marriage?”

             
“He did adore Miss Ellie.” 

             
“So why didn’t he marry her?”

             
“I kidded Daddy about that after Walter died… her being available finally. He just waved his hand and shook his head.”

  Maggie walked back to the safe to replace the necklace and then stopped
. “Here,” she said. “You take the necklace and wear it at Nat’s wedding. The necklace will be a reminder that I wish I were there.”

Liz hesitated
. “If you put it like that, I’d like that.” 

The check-in and prep at Duke made both Maggie and Liz tense. Only when Dr. Rao walked in did Maggie brighten. He appeared confident and wore his UNC cap and a Tar Heel T-shirt visible under his lab coat. Liz wanted to kiss the man.

             
“Liz, Liz Hoole,” she reintroduced herself when she realized that he didn’t recognize her without her hair.

             
“Ah, yes, or course, Miss Hoole. “I see you got matching hairdos.” His eyes darted from the top of Liz’s head to Maggie’s. His eyes were the thing, followed by the tone of his voice. They would become Liz’s instant clue as to how well Maggie handled each treatment.

             
Dr. Rao sat down opposite Liz and pulled his chair up close to Maggie’s bed. Liz loved the way he did this. In lieu of standing, he put his chart down, put one hand over the other in his lap and leaned forward. It spoke volumes about his commitment to a conversation. “May I call you Maggie?”

             
“Yes, please do,” Maggie responded.

             
“And you may call me Sreenivas,” he replied.

             
Maggie chuckled, “Dr. Rao is easier.”

             
“Whichever you prefer.” After a pause, he continued, “You’ve got a nicely shaped head, you know.”

What a funny thing to say,
Liz thought, but the remark seemed to please Maggie.

             
“I’m getting used to it,” Maggie replied.

             
“I think to cut your hair was a good choice. A lot of patients do so before treatment begins and say they were glad that they did. And Miss Hoole?” he said as he redirected his attention. “You’ve got your head all covered up with that hat. Have you got a lumpy head?”

Liz took off her cap
. “I just don’t want to look like Ben Kingsley.”

“Ah, yes, our Gandhi,” he said as he surveyed her head in a glance
. “Beautiful head, too. Rest assured you do not look like Ben Kingsley.”  Unconsciously, he ran his long fingers through his own thick hair.

             
Dr. Rao leaned in a bit closer to Maggie and fixed his eyes directly on hers. “I want you to know that I have gone ahead and put out a request for a donor match for a bone marrow transplant.”

             
Maggie appeared startled. “I didn’t think that would be necessary.”

             
“It’s just a precaution, because sometimes it takes a while to find a match. It is better to begin the process now and have it available should we want that option.”

             
Maggie glanced over at Liz as if she wanted advice.

“It sounds like a wise thing to do,” Liz said
. Liz had known all along this was a strong possibility: the main reason she wanted to be sure there was an adequate blood supply in Maggie’s type. Not until now did she realize that Maggie viewed the procedure only as an outside chance.

             
“Maggie, am I correct, you are not married?”

             
“That’s right.”

             
“No children?”

             
“No children,” Maggie replied. Liz knew exactly where Dr. Rao was headed. She assumed Maggie did, too.

             
“And your mother and father?”

             
“Both dead.”

             
“… any  brothers or sisters, maybe half brothers or sisters?”

             
“Not to my knowledge,” Maggie looked at Liz a second time. Liz was becoming very uncomfortable at what might be going through Maggie’s mind. She should have better prepared her.

“It is rare that we get a close match with a half brother or sister anyway
. The best matches are always with a direct sibling,” Dr. Rao said. “Not to worry. You’d be surprised how often we do find a donor match.” He casually brushed the topic aside and brightened. “So are we ready to get started and add the good stuff to that IV?”

             
“Well, this isn’t exactly where I had planned to spend the month of August, but given my options, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

             
“Remember what I told you, Maggie. This is going to get harder before it gets better.” He placed his hand over hers and continued, “I have a pager. The nurses can get me any time of the day or night. Have them call me if you need me.”

             
Liz could see the lines softened in Maggie’s face. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that.”

             
  With that, Dr. Rao stood up and did what would become his signature exit after each visit. He tipped his UNC baseball hat, winked and said, “You can do this, Tar Heel.”  Then he left.

             
Maggie looked over at Liz. “I like him.”

             
“Even if he’s a Dukie?”

             
“In name only. His heart’s in the right place.”  Maggie ran her hand over the sheet and watched as Dr. Rao spoke with a nurse in the hall. Then she said more tentatively, “Would you go talk to Miss Ellie for me?”

             
“About what?”

             
“You know. I want to know about the possibility of any half brothers or sisters.”

             
Liz’s mind shifted into reverse. Such a conversation wouldn’t make any difference. The Judge was not her biological father, but Maggie didn’t know that. She stammered trying to come up with an appropriate excuse. “Oh, Maggie, I’d be embarrassed to ask her.”

             
“Listen, no one knew my father better than Miss Ellie. If there is the slightest possibility that he had an illegitimate child, she would know.”

             
“Are you sure you want to know?”

             
“If it could save my life, I sure as hell do.”

*****

              Liz rotated between work and Duke the rest of the week agonizing constantly over how to deal with Maggie’s request. At times she considered a simple lie. She’d tell her she had, even if she hadn’t. But what if Maggie later found out she’d never followed through?  Chase championed the home front, making sure the boys got to school and softball practice. They agreed that this would just be one of those periods in their lives when they’d have to make some sacrifices to help out a loved one. Life happens—you adjust.

        Maggie seemed more fatigued on each visit and Liz knew the worst was yet to come, but she asked each time whether or not Liz had spoken to Miss Ellie
. Over and over again, “Did you talk to Miss Ellie, yet?”

             
“Maggie, I haven’t been in town this week when the café isn’t busy,” Liz would beg off, but finally she capitulated. “I’ll go by on Sunday after the church crowd leaves.”

             
“Promise?” Maggie said.

             
“I promise.”

             
And so as they cleaned up after lunch at Grandpa and Grandma Hoole’s following meeting for worship, Liz mentioned that she had promised Maggie she would speak to Miss Ellie that afternoon. The boys had deserted the table with Grandpa to play a game of Chinese checkers in the den.

             
“What does she need from Miss Ellie?” Grandma Hoole asked, thinking perhaps if Maggie had a special food request, she could send something.

             
“Maggie may need a bone marrow transplant,” Liz said without softening the news.

             
“Oh,” Grandma stopped washing the dishes and looked at her. “Tell me what that means.”