Secrets of the Tea Room Ch. 04

I met Mr. Emerly in the hallway as I came down the stairs as he walked out of his office and we made our way to the veranda together. "Good morning, Miss Prentiss. I'm anxious for us to get started, so why don't we do a little brainstorming over lunch and see if we can come up with some sort of an outline to follow ...", he had pulled my chair out so that I could be seated. Already on the table were two generous platters laden with wild rice, marinated flank steak, and fresh steamed vegetables.

"Mr. Emerly," I began, "I've done a little bit of thinking about your offer to work with you on your memoirs, and frankly I have some serious mis givings." I noticed that his expression didn't change but his eyebrows knitted slightly, so I continued, "You told me that your career was based on some sort of academic endeavor and, quite frankly, I'm not entirely sure we could make it interesting enough to submit to a publisher, much less see it in print. Americans now seem to be enthralled with authors like Stephen King and Danielle Steele ... their books are full of excitement and adventure ... I imagined yours would be rather like a primer for an MBA ... not a very wide audience ..."

I stopped at his expression. Those blue eyes again were dancing, he had begun to nod, and chuckled softly, "Miss Prentiss, I assure you that the story we will be working on is not as dull as all that, and that if we do decide to submit it to a publisher, I'll virtually guarantee it will make it to the Times Best Seller's List. Indulge me for a few days. If the material you gather offers no promise then you are under no obligation to continue if I'm right, then we'll both benefit from our partnership ... what do you say?"

There was no ignoring his charm ... or the charm of Tanglewood. For whatever reasons, I nodded my head in agreement, "Well, alright. What kind of schedule would you like to work? I'm afraid I'm not the best morning person, but a 10:00 a.m. start would be comfortable to me."

He tilted his head, thought for a minute, then replied, "Sounds good. We'll start then and work until we feel like stopping. If it's an hour or eight hours a day, as long as we work while we are enjoying the process, I'm sure it will be productive. Now then, how shall we start?"

"We'll start this afternoon then, if you'd like. I can go up to my room now and get my tape recorder ..."

I was surprised to see him shake his head, "No. I would rather you listen, ask questions, make notes ... it's much more personal that way ... and I just don't like the idea of taping everything ... it seems so robotic, I think writing ought to be a spontaneous endeavor. Can you accommo date me on this little quirk?"

"You're the boss. We can do it however you'd like. So, why don't you start telling me about yourself."

As we lingered through lunch Mr. Emerly began, "Well, I told you the story of my initiation to love making through my father and Millie, so I won't go back over that," he glanced at me just in time to see the color rise in my face, "But, I'll begin there.

My father and Millie married in 1945 and I struggled through high school. I hung around that little town for a year ... I wasn't able to find anything there that interested me so I left home in 1950 and spent the next few years wandering about the country taking on odd jobs. I loaded trucks off a dock in St. Louis until winter set in and then I headed further south ... I hated the cold and damp. I hitchhiked to Florida where the post World War II construction boom was in full swing. Rows of neat little houses were springing up everywhere thanks to the new VA benefits and work was easy to find. The money was good and so was the weather, so I hung around for about three years.

I turned 22 in the spring and became involved with the foreman's daughter, Susan ... the age old tale. We were both young, frisky, tan, and fun-loving but that was the extent of the depth of our relationship. Her Daddy found us in a most carnally compromising situation and I was expected to make things right. He escorted us down town, making sure we picked up the marriage license. A quick ceremony in front of a J.P. was scheduled before I knew it. Susan's father wouldn't hardly let me out of his sight, so as we walked from the Clerk of the Court's office down the hall to the Justice of the Peace, I excused myself to go to the restroom.

One look at Susan's less than happy face told me what I had to do ... I ducked in the bathroom and immediately locked the door. Panic had set in and I felt like a mouse that had just been put in the cage with a very pretty snake ... my future was certain, but it certainly was not one that I wanted. I climbed through the window, jumped the few feet to the ground and didn't stop running for blocks. I only had the clothes on my back and a few dollars in my pockets, but I knew I had to get out of Tampa and Florida all together, so I hit the highways again with my thumb stuck out. I never got in touch with Susan again, but neither one of us was ready to settle down and I'm sure she as relieved as I was.

I caught rides, walked and hitchhiked some more until I found myself in Kansas City. The easiest place to get work around there was the stock- yards. It was awful, dirty, it stunk ... I didn't last there very long before wander lust took me on the road again. I ended up in Detroit working on an assembly line for a while until the monotony almost drove me crazy, so I started looking west. Just outside Flagstaff I met an old man at a truck stop, after sharing a couple of cups of coffee and a piece of pie, he asked me if I had ever worked with cattle ... I told a lie and said I had ... I justified knocking cows in the head with mallet 'working with cattle' ... so, he hired me to work for the season on his ranch. I bluffed my way through it and the next spring headed to California. San Diego reminded me very much of Florida and I was lucky enough to land a job with Lockheed working in their plant.

I settled in to a pretty comfortable routine and would have probably stayed there for a while except that I got a call, 'Your father has had a heart attack and we're afraid he's not going to make it' was all Millie could say. I threw a few things in a bag, called my boss, and boarded a plane for home.

When I walked in the hospital room I couldn't believe it was Dad lying there. It's funny how those white walls, white sheets and antiseptic smell can make a grown man look like a frail, half grown boy. He was sleeping when I arrived, so I quietly walked to the side of the bed. Millie and Sarah, my half-sister, were sitting on the other side of the bed ... neither one of them more than an arm's length from Dad. I half smiled at them. Millie was in her 30's now but was a beautiful as ever ... perhaps even more so now that she had matured. Sarah was twelve years old and held the promise of beauty inherited from her mother. She and I were virtually strangers since she was born shortly before I graduated from high school and left home.

Millie stood up, "William ... wake up darling ... Jackson is here." Dad's eyes fluttered and then opened, it seemed to take a while for them to focus, but once they had his face lit up. "Jackson ... son ... you're home. Thank God." His hand grasped mine, "I'm so glad to see you."

Without warning my throat strangled any words trying to escape and my eyes were blurred by tears. I fought to regain my composure and smiled down at him, "Hi, Dad. I was away a lot longer that I had counted on ... but, you didn't need to go fake a heart attack to get me to visit ... you could have just called." I tried to make light of the situation not knowing what else to do, but the pale transparency of his skin was witness to the seriousness of his health.

God bless him, he smiled back at me, "Yep ... I can get out of this bed now and get on back home in a couple of days." He was smiling as he looked over at Millie and his half-grown daughter, but the humor did not carry to his eyes. As families do, we all knew the truth but would not admit it to ourselves or each other.

"William, you rest now. I'm going to get Jackson settled in and we'll all be back right after supper.", Millie caressed his hair and bent down to kiss him, "We'll be back about 7:00 so you have time for a nice nap."

Dad nodded and closed his eyes. Sarah kissed his cheek then followed Millie out of the room. I stood there for a moment more, not knowing what to do. For an instant I was a little boy again and frightened beyond belief. I also wanted to kiss his forehead, but instead, just squeezed his hand and left the room.

Downstairs Millie showed me to her car and we all rode silently for a long time. As we got out of town Millie was the first to speak, "Jackson ... the farm's not like you remember it ... don't be too shocked. Your Dad's health has been steadily and gradually getting worse ... it came on so slowly I don't think either one of us realized how much he had slowed down. I never cared about the farm ... just William ... and I never really saw it the way it is now until I drove home the first day after his heart attack. It was almost like driving up on some strange place ... not home at all ..."

When she turned down the dirt road to the house I saw what she meant. Less than half of the fields had been planted, the barn and house were in sore need of repair. More than the sight shocked me, knowing how much my father loved this place, the realization of how sick he must have been jolted me. "Millie, he could have called me ... you could have called me ... I would have come back to help ..."

"I know you would have," Millie pulled up in front of the house and shut off the motor and handed Sarah a key asking her to unlock the front door. She then faced me, "Jackson, William and I knew how difficult it was for you when we married. Oh, you didn't do anything wrong or make me feel like an intruder ... but you two were a pair for such a long time before I came along. You were too old for me to be your mother, so we just got along as best we could. When Sarah was born, you were nearly grown ... and then you left. We both knew you didn't leave with any hard feelings ... you needed to go out and make a life for yourself ... this place couldn't be your home any longer.

Your Dad knew that and accepted it. Whenever he spoke of you it was always with love and he relished every post card and telephone call. You should have heard him bragging about your escapades to his friends. He was always very proud of you. So, I don't want you to feel bad and neither would your Father, and that's that. Now, come inside the house and while you unpack, I'll see what I can pull together for supper."

I followed Millie on to the front porch as Sarah opened the door. Sarah quietly followed us into the house and it struck me for the first time that I hadn't heard Sarah say a word.

Millie sat down her purse on the hall tree, walked into the kitchen and immediately tied on her apron, "Sarah darling, would you please show Jackson ... ah, your brother to your room. He can stay there and you can sleep with me until Daddy comes home."

Sarah almost startled me when she finally spoke, "Okay, Mama" and headed up the stairs. What she thought of as her room had been my room while I was growing up and it seemed strange to see it filled with stuffed animals and pictures of Elvis.

"Sarah," I said, "I appreciate your letting me use your room ... are you sure you don't mind?" It was awkward trying to think of something to say to an adolescent stranger who also happened to be your sister.

"No, it's okay", she flopped on the bed. "Jackson, can I ask you a ques tion?"

"Sure", I said.

"Well, Mama's been crying a lot at night. She tries to be quiet and doesn't think I can hear her, but I do. Jackson, it scares me because I think Mama is scared even more than me. Is Daddy going to die?"

The breath was wrenched from my lungs as though someone had just hit me in the stomach. I looked at her sitting there, and she so reminded me of Millie ... only a few years older than Sarah was right now when I first met her. In her eyes I could see concern and worry ... but I think mostly worry for her mother ... a child that young doesn't really comprehend the finality of death ... and I wasn't sure what to say to her. After a moment I said the only thing I knew to say, "Sarah, I don't know whether Dad ... Daddy ... is going to die or not ... I sure hope not. But, no matter what happens, I promise that you and your mother are going to be alright ... I'll make sure of that, okay?"

Millie called from the bottom of the stairs, "Supper's ready!" and Sarah got up from the bed and rushed over to hug me, "Okay Jackson, I'm glad I've got you for a big brother." Just as quickly she released me and skipped down the stairs to follow Millie into the kitchen.

I wish I could have prayed ... I know Millie and Sarah did ... but I've never had too much confidence in that sort of thing ... so I just took a couple of deep breaths, cleared my head, and started down the stairs to join them.

We ate without much talking and I began to clear away the table as Sarah started to wash the dishes. The phone rang and Millie crossed the kitchen to pick it up, "Hello" ... and there was only a minute of silence then a thud. Millie had fainted. Sarah screamed, "Mama!" and ran to her, I picked up the phone to hear, "Mrs. Emerly, Mrs. Emerly ... are you there?"

I swallowed hard and said, "No, this is Jackson Emerly, her step-son."

"Jackson, this is Dr. Carter. I'm sorry Jackson, your father died just a few minute ago. We did everything we could. It was peaceful ... he was sleeping ... there was no pain ... in fact, there is still a slight smile on his face."

I couldn't say anything, I simply hung up the phone and turned my attention to Millie and Sarah.

We buried Dad three days later in the cemetery by the little church where he and Millie were married. More than half the town was there ... including Millie's father and mother. Evidentially Dad's devotion to their daughter and granddaughter had won them over.

The next morning I sat in the kitchen with Millie over coffee. "Do you have any plans?", I asked.

Her pale face emphasized the red puffiness of her eyes, eyes that must have cried thousands of tears over the last few days. She looked up at me as though I were insane, "Jackson, I have no plans. William and Sarah have been my whole life for the past 13 years. I can't imagine what I'll do without him. I know I can't run this farm ... but it's in such sad shape it will be almost impossible to sell it. I don't know ... I just haven't had time to think."

I understood how she felt, I never could imagine a world without Dad's strength in it ... "Millie, if it's okay with you and Sarah, I'd like to stay around for a little while. It won't take long to get the barn and the house back into shape. Then perhaps you could sell it for a fair price and it would provide you and Sarah with some security."

"Jackson ... are you sure? Don't you need to be getting back to California? You have your own life now ...", there was a resignation in her face that was totally alien to her character.

"I'm sure Millie. I want to do this for you and Sarah ... and Dad. I think he died peacefully after he saw that I had come home ... he knew I would make sure you two were okay. Now then, in reality, I know Dad had a little bit of insurance money, and with the sale of the farm, you two will be just fine ... but Millie, you've got to face the fact that you'll have to work to supplement what the farm brings in.

Is there anything you've ever wanted to do?", I was trying to put it as gently as I could without scaring her. I knew she was facing a difficult future and did not want to add to her burdens ... but I also felt that getting her away from the farm would help her ... getting a job would get her back into the real world and that, too, would be good for her.

"Lord, I haven't thought about that in years. The only thing I've ever done was help out at my father's store ... maybe I could do that again ... it would help him and let Mother have more time off ... yes, I'll drive into town and talk to my father this afternoon."

"Good. That's settled," I slid back my chair and stood up, "I think I'll start with the barn ... after I inspect it, I'll let you know what I think and we can discuss what you want me to do."

There was a wan smile on her lips but she nodded and I heard her push back her chair and walk upstairs as I was crossing the back porch.

When I came back in for lunch, Millie had dressed, fixed her hair, and put on her make up, "William wouldn't have wanted to see me like I was. I won't disappoint him." Her spunk came back that quickly, if not that easily. She did talk to her father that afternoon and began helping out at the mercantile within a few days.

I worked on the barn, then the house, and within a few months had the place ready to put on the market. I hung around until a buyer made an offer and Millie accepted it. She and Sarah would be okay now. Dad would be pleased and I could leave with a clear conscious.

The next morning I came downstairs with my suitcase. Millie and Sarah were surprised to see it, but I explained that it was time for me to go ...

Millie asked, "What are your plans?"

I chuckled, "I've never really had any plans for anything ... I just head out and end up where I end up ... it always seems to turn out okay. Don't worry, I'll be in touch, you'll know where I am if you need me."

Millie crossed the kitchen to stand in front of me, she put her hands on each of my elbows and looked up at me, "Jackson, your father and I talked many times about his hopes for you. We both believed that you're bright and have potential ... he always wished you had gone to college. Now, we were able to set aside a little bit of money and I want you to take it ... don't shake your head at me! I'm the closest thing you ever had to a mother and you will do this. It's not much ... but it's enough to get you into college. Go. At least go for a while and see if there's something you'd like to do ... it will make me AND your father very happy. Will you do that for us?"

I was shocked, I never expected anything like this and I felt myself far too old to be starting college, but a lot of fellows were going after they got out of service, so I finally agreed.

I headed west to Ann Arbor and enrolled, after a few struggles, in the University of Michigan. I had no clue in which direction I wanted to go, so I studied liberal arts. Like pretty much everything else up to that point in my life, it didn't last long. After a couple of years I was bored and wanted to get out in the world again. I dropped out, found myself in Davenport, Iowa where I signed on to a grain barge traveling down the Mississippi to New Orleans.

And it was there, Miss Prentiss, where I met my destiny and built a fulfilling life, gathered a fortune, and found the love of my life."

His story telling had spun me into a web of imagination ... I could plainly see Jackson Emerly at 18 years old ... at 30 years old ... I saw William and Millie in a photograph in my mind ... and now he just stopped and the silence brought me back to Savannah present day. "Mr. Emerly ... what ever happened to Millie and Sarah?"

He smiled, "I'm in touch with each of them on a regular basis. Millie ended up owning the mercantile after her parents retired, she never re married ... she said that there would never be another man for her after Dad. Sarah grew up to be as beautiful as her mother, married happily, and has bequeathed that special beauty to three daughters of her own. They all call me 'Uncle Jack' and are growing up to be fine young women in their own right ..."

"I'm glad ... I always like stories with happy endings" I said as I slid my chair back. The afternoon had been wiled away on the veranda listening to Mr. Emerly and there was a chill in the air, "If you don't mind, I think I'll go to my room now and make some notes about what you've told me."