The Vigil (24 page)

Carlton's gaze never left me. His pleading eyes begged for understanding.

Something I didn't want to give, but I knew he had suffered all these years.

He hadn't understood the severity of his illness, and it had condemned him to a life of pain and torment. One without joy or happiness. He'd paid an enormous price. He hadn't hurt her intentionally. He'd suffered all these years and been denied the necessary help to make him better. His illness then was no different than what he suffered now. But the consequences had been severe. Lives had been ruined. Changed. It was no different than what Mama had done.

As the warmth of understanding washed through me, forgiveness bathed my heart. For him and for Mama.

Thank You, Lord.

I lifted my shaking fingers and tenderly laid them on the top of his liver-spotted hand. When I braved a glance toward his face, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly and a trail of tears ran along the creases of his eyes. I caressed the wrinkles of his hand.

At that moment, I knew. He needed the truth. All of it. So did my mother.

“Carlton, Clarice, your Sherri, is...” His doorbell rang.

Both Carlton and I started from the intrusion. No one ever visited.

I patted his hand and stood. “I'll be right back.”

When I peered out the window of the living room to see who stood at the front door, my breath caught.

Mama stood on the front porch, her violet-blue eyes, eerily similar to Carlton's, were set in a determined stare at the letters on the doorframe. Her five-foot-seven-inch frame seemed to be made of steel as she held her head erect with her arms folded across her chest. How had she found this place?

For the second time today, I dreaded doing something I knew was the right thing to do.

She would never forgive me for not telling her about Carlton. I trudged to the door, knowing the encounter would be difficult at best.

My hand rested on the doorknob.
Help Lord, I need Your words.
I turned the knob and opened the door about four inches. I braced myself for the coming attack.

Mama's eyes widened. “Cheryl, I want to see him.”

I pursed my lips then exhaled. “How did you find this place?”

“I followed you.”

“You what?”

“He's your patient. No wonder you wouldn't tell me who he was.” She tried to push the door open fully. “I want to see him.”

I held my ground. “Mama, I'm not sure that's a good idea. First, let me check with him to see if he wants to see you. He's not doing very well.”

“I don't care. I want to know if he's my father. Mawmaw can't answer my questions, and I need answers. Now.” She glared, her laser-like gaze searing right through me. She would not give up. The mighty Vivian was on a mission, and she wouldn't leave until she got what she came for.

Unfortunately, Carlton had control over whether she got answers or not.

“Wait here.” I closed and locked the door. As I approached Carlton's bed, my chest tightened. I didn't want to wake him, but hadn't I been determined just minutes ago that the truth be known? I laid my hand on his shoulder and shook gently. “Carlton.”

He awoke. “Whaa...”

“Carlton, there's someone here to see you. It's Vivian Broussard. Clarice's oldest daughter.”

I knew the moment he made the connection. His pupils dilated slightly, and his brows lifted. “Here?” He pointed to the floor next to his bed.

“She's out on the porch. Should I let her in?”

His gaze searched mine as though he wanted me to answer for him.

“Carlton, there's something else you should know.” I paused. I hated dumping this on him so abruptly. “She's my mother.”

His brows lifted higher. “Your mother?” He ran his tongue along his chapped lower lip. “Hmmm. I see.”

“I didn't know she was coming here.”

He smiled and reached for the damp washcloth I'd left on his nightstand. “Need to clean...up first.”

I took a step closer and reached for the towel. With gentle swipes, I wiped his eyes and mouth. I ran the wet washcloth over his hair and then a dry one. He allowed me to wrap my arms around his shoulders and tilt him forward. I held him up and propped a couple of pillows behind him. The effort took a lot from him, but he inhaled as deeply as he could and smiled.

Once we'd completed his grooming, he held tightly to my hand. “Thank you,” he whispered and then nodded.

As I walked back to the door, the incessant ringing of the doorbell charged through the house. I couldn't help but smile. Vivian.

Once again, I opened the door to meet the glare of my incensed mother.

“How dare you keep me waiting like this.” Her voice pierced. How dare I? Warmth spread through my scalp.

I pointed to kitchen. “In there. Now.”

She brushed past me and headed toward the table.

“Sit.” I pointed to the chair at the far end. My anger brewed dangerously close to erupting. “We need to talk before you see him. Or you don't see him.” I crossed my arms. “Understand?”

Her brows furrowed, and then she exhaled while she reluctantly descended into the chrome and vinyl chair.

I sat opposite her. “Mama, Carlton is very ill. He wants to see you, but you cannot upset him. If at any time in your visit, I feel you are upsetting him, I will ask you to leave. He is my patient, and I am responsible for his well-being right now. Agreed?”

She nodded and slumped into the back of the chair. She seemed to deflate like a blown-up doll that lost its air. “Cheryl, I just want answers.” Tears misted her eyes.

I caressed her hand. “I know you do. Give Carlton, time. I'm sure he'll give them to you.” I stood and linked her fingers through mine. She followed me to his bedroom.

Mama stood at the doorway a moment before allowing me to guide her toward Carlton's bed. Once we were next to him, his beautiful eyes glistened as he met Mama's. He lifted his hand to her. “Vivian.”

I stepped back and placed her hand in his. “Mama, meet Carlton.”

“It's n-n-nice to meet you.” Her voice wavered. I edged the side chair behind her and encouraged her to sit. Then I walked around to the other side of his bed and sat in the lounge chair. She stared at him in silence.

He shifted in the bed and sat a bit higher. Carlton removed his hand from Vivian's grip and tenderly traced the side of her face. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You have...my eyes.”

She glanced toward me and then back at Carlton. “I do.”

He smiled. “I dreamed of...this day.” He turned to me, winked, and tilted his head toward Mama. “She's beauti…ful. My daughter.”

I locked gazes with Mama. “She is, Carlton. She is beautiful.”

Mama returned my gaze with tear-filled eyes. “Why?”

He reached once again for Mama's hand and then closed his eyes and opened them again. His head lolled to the right, and I saw the effect of the emotional turbulence from this morning. He parted his lips but no words bellowed forth. I knew how much the effort cost him. He wanted to answer Mama, but fatigue conquered.

“Carlton, secrets have been kept for a long time. Do you mind if I share them and your medical history with Mama?”

“Share.” He lifted his left hand, reached for mine, closed his eyes again, and then lowered his head onto the pillow behind him. I removed one of the pillows and lowered the head of his bed. Once I arranged his bedding and ensured he was comfortable, Mama eased her hand out of his, stood, and headed toward the door. I followed with the ribbon-tied bundles of Mawmaw's letters.

Mama sat in the same kitchen chair as earlier, staring out the window. Her rosy cheeks were now a lighter shade of pink. I sat next to her again and handed her the bundles. “You've read the letters from Carlton to Mawmaw. These are Mawmaw's letters to Carlton.”

With shaking hands, she reached for the letters. “He's my father, Cheryl. I can see so clearly that he is.”

“I think he is. You have the same features and, of course, the eyes.” I placed both my hands on hers and looked into her eyes. “Mama, there's something you should know. He takes the same type of medication you do.”

As the words sank in and realization dawned, her eyes softened, and she pressed her lips together. I reached across the table and hugged her neck. “I'll come over tonight after my shift. I'll tell you what I know. But it won't be much more than you'll know after you read the letters. Will you be at the hospital?”

She continued to stare out the window. “All this time, Mama kept him from me. Why would she do that?”

“Read the letters. Some of the answers are there.”

She simply nodded and stood as though she were a marionette controlled by invisible strings.

“Will you be all right to drive or should I call Anthony?”

As though a hand pulled her strings, she straightened to her tallest, pushed her shoulders back, and smiled. “Cheryl, I'll be fine. Maybe for the first time in my life. I'll be just fine.” She reached for my hand. “I want to come back and visit him. Would you ask him if that's OK?”

“Sure, Mama. I'll ask, but I'm pretty sure he'll be fine with you visiting. I believe he would like that very much.”

She strolled to the door and turned back toward me. “Cheryl, thank you for taking such good care of my father.” She smiled. “Your grandfather.”

I nodded and pushed back the tide of emotion threatening to take over.

Her car kicked up dust plumes as she drove down the long driveway.

Oh Mama, will you still feel the same once you read that last letter?

 

 

 

 

Vingt-Sept

 

Darcy arrived early for her shift. We spent a few minutes exchanging information. I shared the events of the day with her and told her the truth about my relationship with Carlton. She'd been as surprised as all of us, but responded differently than I expected. As I drove home, her words lolled through my brain.

“Cheryl, there is a reason for everything. God has a way of putting us just where we need to be.” With that, she'd given me a hug and ushered me out the door.

Carlton had not awakened after Mama left, and I didn't want to wake him to tell him good night.

Had God placed me in Carlton's care so the truth could be revealed? The chain of events that happened with me in the middle brought us to where we were today. It began with Jarrod and coming back home. When I thought of all that'd been revealed and how I understood so much more than when I arrived, I had to thank God.

I thought of Beau and remembered Annie passed away yesterday. My heavy heart sagged when I thought of his loss. And Steven's.

Chuck's church loomed ahead, and I took the exit. Hopefully, he'd be in his office. I sat in the parking lot staring at the large cross affixed to the front of the building. That cross symbolized so much. It represented the ultimate sacrifice and redemption.
Lord, thank You for what You've shown me. Guide me through all that's happened. Let me be strong for Carlton, for Mama, and for Mawmaw.

The silence in the car allowed me to focus on thoughts of Christian love and forgiveness. I felt, for the first time, that I had let go of the resentment and anger toward Mama and toward Carlton. Would I have been as charitable had he not had his illness? Had Mama not had hers? Guess that didn't matter. What mattered was the freedom from the burden I'd carried for so many years. When I remembered the brief light that sparkled in Carlton's eyes when he saw Mama, I suspected he'd been released from the prison he'd condemned himself to all those years.

I leaned back onto the headrest and closed my eyes. The air conditioner blew cold air on my face.
Lord, please don't take Mawmaw or Carlton until they've had an opportunity to forgive each other.
A calming serenity replaced the jittery nervousness I harbored since Mama knocked on Carlton's door.

I drove to the hospital enveloped in peace. One that I couldn't understand until I remembered the verse Beau had told me about. The hospital parking lot sported fewer cars tonight than last night, which meant a closer parking space.

When I entered the intensive care waiting room, Mama and Aunt Melanie sat next to one another in the far corner of the room.

Aunt Melanie knitted the turquoise afghan she'd been working on, and Mama thumbed through a magazine. There was little resemblance between them. They shared the shape of Mawmaw's nose, but that was it. The more I looked at Mama as Carlton's daughter, the more I saw the similarities they shared.

They both looked up as I approached.

“How is she? Any change?” I slid into an opposite chair.

Mama rested the magazine on her lap. “She woke up this afternoon and went right back to sleep.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall near the nurse's station. A few more minutes before visiting hours. A leather satchel rested at Mama's feet. The ribbon previously tied around the bundle of letters stuck out the top.

I didn't know if Mama had shared this afternoon's events with Aunt Melanie, so I didn't say anything. Mama's stoic posture and graceful stance seemed dreadfully off kilter. Last time we were here she was a mess. Today her demeanor exuded strength and poise.

I didn't understand the changes. Yet, maybe I did. This time she'd been consistent with taking her medication and her new faith sustained her.

“Cheryl, would you like to see Mawmaw first this evening?” Aunt Melanie asked.

“No. You and Mama go, I'll see her after.”

Mama turned toward me and smiled. “Honey, you and Aunt Melanie can visit with her. I'll wait for Anthony. He should be here in a bit, and we'll visit her together.”

“Sure, Mama.” I sat next to her. “Would you like to go out for coffee after visiting hours?”

Her lips spread into a smile that reached her beautiful eyes. “Yes, I would like that. We have some things to discuss. Don't we?”