Jan Karon - In the Company of Others

‘The cost of around-the-clock nursing must be affordable here,’ he said to Liam, making conversation.

‘Some of the cost is paid by the state-the better part of it’s paid by Seamus. The oul’ fellow he worked for in New York left a trust to last Seamus his life. No staggering sum, but something to keep him in old age. Paddy was after it pretty hard in th’ beginning, but Seamus got wise and put a stop to it.’

‘A very fine fellow, your Seamus.’

‘He says we’re the only real family he ever had, poor devil, as if’t was a family worth havin’.’ Liam caught his breath. ‘Look, Rev’rend-there’s no way I can ever thank you.’

‘Don’t try. It isn’t necessary.’

‘We’ve never before put anything on a guest.’

‘I don’t feel put-upon. Going up to your mother-it’s what I do.’

‘’t isn’t as if we were your own parish.’

‘Wherever I am, he supplies a parish.’

‘I don’t understand that, you know.’

‘I hardly understand it myself. But it’s okay. Let it be.’

‘Corrigan called. He paid a visit to Slade in prison. Got nothing out of him. No surprise.’

‘Will they continue the investigation?’

‘Corrigan says they’ll keep it open, but…’ Liam shrugged.

He stood back, surveyed his work. Done.

Liam’s mobile gave its odd ring. ‘Conor. Yes. Standin’ right here.’ He passed the phone over. ‘Th’ nurse.’

‘Fletcher?’

‘What’s left of me, Rev’rend.’

‘How is she?’

‘Sleeping since we saw you, and at it again all mornin’ ’til a half hour ago. Seein’ spiders on the wall, snakes in the drapes-all real enough to convince Eileen they were there, poor dote. Dr. Feeney’s increasing her dosage of lorazepam, you’d think she was a draft horse th’ way we must pump it into her. But she’s quiet now an’ had a bite of oatmeal without givin’ it back.’

‘Good. Great.’

‘Says to send up th’ Protestant.’

He went to their room for his prayer book, realizing again how much he liked the feel of it in his hand, the wear along the spine.

William sat by the fire, anxious, a manila envelope on his lap.

‘Will she make it, d’ye think, Rev’rend?’

‘I don’t know. She’s brave and stubborn, William. Perhaps-with God’s help.’

‘Ye’re askin’ his help, are ye?

‘Yes. Are you?

‘He wouldn’t be after hearin’ from me.’

‘Why so?’

‘What have I done for him, or for anybody, to tell th’ truth? ’t is best to ask for nothin’.’

‘Yet he gives us everything. For you, a wonderful home. People who love you. Good health.’

‘If I was to get his attention, he might be reminded to take it all away.’

He laughed. ‘Pray for her, William. I guarantee that God would like you to give him a shout.’

William thrust the envelope into his hand. ‘Will you carry it up to her?’

‘The portrait?’

‘’t is.’

‘You’re making a gift of it?’

‘Ah, no, I’ll need it back. I wanted her to see…’ William choked up, cleared his throat. ‘I wanted her to see me oul’ face… one more time.’ He took out his handkerchief, wiped his eyes. ‘My compliments to her, if you’d be so kind.’

‘You want her to see that you’re still a handsome man, is that it?’

‘No, no, Rev’rend, you’re slaggin’ me now.’

He was going out to the Vauxhall when Liam came around from his work on the addition and spied the envelope.

‘His portrait?’

‘It is.’

‘He’s sending it up to Mother?’

‘Yes.’

‘God above, and him eighty-some. Does it never end?’

‘She’s in a bad way, Liam. Any chance you might go up?’

‘Don’t ask me to do it, Reverend. I don’t want to tally th’ many reasons, but she’s been no mother to me.’

He nodded, walked away. Liam called after him.

‘Rev’rend.’

‘Yes?’

‘Sorry to disappoint you.’ Liam tried to say something more, but could not. He turned and stepped quickly around the side of the lodge.

‘Hold up, Rev’rend!’

William came toward him on the cane.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I don’t suppose I’d be welcome to ride up with ye.’

‘That’s outside my jurisdiction.’

‘I wouldn’t trouble her a’tall, wouldn’t even see her. I’d sit quiet as any mouse in her reception hall, not sayin’ a word.’

‘What would be the point, do you think?’

‘Just to be there, Rev’rend, just to be there.’

‘She’s in no shape for company, William.’

‘No, no, I would wait in th’ hall, which I’ve never laid eyes on these many years. You mustn’t tell her I’m there, no, I wouldn’t do that; ’t would add to her troubles. Just let her see th’ portrait, just hold it where she can look on it a bit, that’s all I’m askin.’

Should he be party to mixing it up with the long darkness between Catharmore and Broughadoon? What could be gained by it? On the other hand, what could be lost?

‘When I was here before, you had a question.’

In only a few hours, her cheeks had grown more hollow, her eyes more sunken.

‘What was that peace… that visited me?’ she whispered.

‘I believe it was God.’

‘We have so little time, Reverend, there’s none available for the ridiculous.’

He said nothing. The old dog snored in his corner bed.

The hematoma was not on view today, but hidden beneath a kind of tent in the bed linen. Her fingers picked at the coverlet. ‘If what you say is true, why would he do such a thing?’

‘Because he loves you.’

‘No one loves me, Reverend. I’ve made certain of it.’

‘I beg to differ. Seamus loves you.’

‘Seamus,’ she said, dispassionate.

‘Liam loves you.’

‘There’s no reason for him to love me, I failed him utterly as a mother. I withdrew from him and let his father enjoy his affections.’

‘Right or wrong,’ he said, ‘I believe I can speak for Liam in saying he loves you. Not in the way we think of love, but in the way of blood to blood, bone to bone. My father was a broken man who treated me brokenly-the same way he treated my mother, and her housekeeper who bore his son. Yet in that bond of flesh which is more powerful than any pain, I loved him with a reckless love that was regularly wounded but never killed. God puts it there, this love we often don’t want, that we war against-yet there it is, all the same.’

The room was being aired; behind the draperies, a breeze shifted the heavy fabric, pushed it out, sucked it back.

‘Why do you come when I call?’ she whispered. ‘What am I to you?’

‘One day you may call and I won’t come. There will be an ocean between us. But call on God and he will come. That’s his job-if called, he shows up.

‘As for what you are to me, I don’t know, exactly. All I know is that you have a need and I’m appointed to fill it however I can. That’s true for me since I was a boy. I have a question for you. Why do you call for me?’

‘Because you have nothing to lose in coming and absolutely nothing to gain, Reverend.’ Sweat shining on her face.

‘Please call me Tim.’

‘That’s a modern foolishness. I despise modern foolishness.’

‘You prefer a more classic or historic foolishness? ’

‘You’re a difficult man.’

‘You’re a difficult woman. But I think we’ve touched on that before.’

The tremoring, her voice shaken. ‘All hope of forgiving and being forgiven is lost.’

‘I tell you this truth above all others, Evelyn-it’s never too late.’

‘The cleric is all about hope-a tiresome feature of your calling. It is entirely too late for me. I haven’t the strength for anything more or even anything less. I am what I am in this wretched husk-an old woman with ills and torments to last the rest of my days.’