The Last Cotillion

Chapter 19

Mary moved in and out of consciousness for several weeks, mumbling conversations out loud from her deep sleep. To bystanders, it appeared she was being visited by those who had gone before her, spirits from the afterlife she had encountered in her life. Sometimes the words passing her lips were argumentative, sometimes they were shy and frightened. Once in a while, the words spoken were accompanied with a smile. Little bits here and there were intelligible, but nothing listeners deemed relevant, mostly due to the fact her life prior to Ranger was unknown to anyone here, including her son. Mary made a conscious choice to never talk about life before Ranger, Texas. John Edward knew little of his mother's past, and his memories of his dad were slight. The electric shock which had traveled through his body as a young boy eliminated many of his prior memories. Vague recollections from when he was very young appeared in dreams. When he shared these, his mother dismissed these images, making it very clear there was nothing of importance that needed recalling.

Bettie entered the room at nine that morning, committed to staying with Mary while John Edward went home to rest. Even with all the history between them, John Edward knew he could trust his ex-wife with his mother's well-being. When she arrived in the room, putting her purse and craftwork down next to the chair, she and her ex-husband shared a cordial moment, conversing over Mary's state; John Edward shared the latest news from the doctor, which was nothing new.

"She talks in her sleep about nonsense, gibberish making no sense to me. I suspect she is working out something she needs to finalize before she goes, "

Shaking his head in sadness, tossing his inherited, sandy blonde hair softly in tandem with his head, John Edward said goodbye to his ex-wife as he left the room. Stopping at the door before he exited, he turned to speak, "The white box on the window sill is for you from Mother. I found a note on her nightstand with instructions to pass them to you upon her death. I believe her days are few, so I retrieved them yesterday. I think you'll look lovely wearing them."

It was around eleven-thirty when an aide delivered a tray of food for Mary, a pointless act as she never consumed any of the liquids presented her. Bettie chatted with the young woman carrying the liquids, about the weather mostly, particularly noting how quickly fall seemed to be approaching. She continued to speak of how summer had been cool for Texas that year, causing most to agree that winter would most likely be harsh with unusually cold temperatures. The aide finished arranging the tray, removing the straw from its white paper wrapper she placed it in the glass of tea. Bettie watched and wondered why this ritual had been repeated so many times, it was the perfect example of insanity.

Bettie continued organizing her yarn to start on her crochet when she was startled hearing,

"Is she gone?"

Mary managed to grumble the small sentence out of her parched mouth. Bettie wasn't sure if she was awake or calling out in one of her dreams.

"Could you raise the damn bed, I am tired of lying flat!" Mary commanded in complete coherence, direct and forward as always. Bettie was now fully aware her mother-in-law was, indeed, awake.

She had heard stories of people coming back from an incoherent state after their body thoroughly rested, she wasn't quite sure what to think. She left her chair, shuffling across the tile floor in her bare feet, racing to reach the bed controls hanging from the polished metal bed rails. Observing the buttons, she pushed the one that would raise the head of the bed. As the bed finally began to rise, Mary shifted her frail body slightly. Being severely atrophied, she exerted a large amount of effort for this minor repositioning. Mary's muscles had become so weak it was near impossible for her to move without assistance. In an almost upright position, Mary looked at the tray with all of its avocado-colored melamine dishes, each filled with various liquids.

"Are they still bringing me this shit? This is supposed to heal the sick? Yuck!"

With what strength she had left, she pushed the tray away in disgust. Bettie recognized the familiar behavior of the woman lying in that bed. Her former mother-in-law seemingly returned from the dead; the woman with whom she had battled for so many years.

"Let me call John Edward, he will want to be here."

As she reached for the phone, Mary shook her head side to side to indicate no. She looked at Bettie, took in a deep breath before beginning to speak.

"There are things I need to tell you. It is necessary I make sure this is heard before I go. I don't want John Edward to know this while I am still alive. I trust you will carry this burden for me until the time is right to tell him."

Mary's voice was clear, her speech concise. She raised a feeble hand reaching for the glass of tea on her tray. Placing the phone back on the receiver, Bettie moved the glass of tea towards the edge of the tray table, Mary leaned her frail body forward to take a sip.

Having earlier heard Mary speak of the Smith family, of whom she had been utterly unaware of any relations, Bettie was now intrigued as to what it was Mary needed to tell her, something so important it was keeping her alive. She couldn't imagine anything Mary could say to her that would cause that great of a shock to anyone. Obviously important enough for Mary to keep fighting death, Bettie prepared herself for the information. Grabbing her pen and pad from her purse, she was ready to take notes.

Mary picked right up where she had left off earlier telling Bettie about the family and the grand life they lived. She spoke of her mother, and the cruelties thrust upon her by her stepfather. She recanted about the events leading up to her meeting her savior, Mrs. Simpson. Mary spoke fondly of the nurse who risked her lively hood to save a scared young girl. Apparently moved by the story she was sharing, she shed a single tear which was all her arid body could manage to produce. Bettie sensed the sadness welling up in Mary as she proceeded to disclose the past.

"I betrayed someone in the cruelest way possible, I built up their trust and then took the one thing that truly belonged to them."

As Mary disclosed the plan she and Thadeus had put in place, Bettie sat there in shock, no longer carving the words into the notepad.

Mary continued on describing how they moved from town to town, how Thadeus bribed the state judge to alter the birth records, every detail of the life they built right up to the time of John Edward's father's mysterious death. The afternoon passed bypassed with Mary confiding so much information to her former daughter-in-law. Mary stopped speaking when she noticed Bettie looking at her watch. Amazed at the amount of time that had passed, Bettie stood to stretch her legs. Turning back to the bed, she found Mary beginning to fade back into her slumber. Bettie reached for the bed controls to return the mattress back to its horizontal position when Mary spoke again.

"Where's John Edward? I want to see him before I go back to sleep. "

As Bettie reached for the phone to find John Edward, he entered the room as if on cue. He was elated to see his mother awake. His eyes filled with tears seeing her coherent, he quickly crossed the room to her bedside and leaned down to her, resting his head on her barren chest. Bettie picked up her crochet, note pad, and pen, and prepared to leave. She wanted to give them as much time as possible together, she also needed time to soak up the information shared with her that afternoon.

Picking up her belongings, she began to walk out of the room. Just as she passed the door frame, she heard Mary shout, "Do the right thing!"

A smile came to her lips while she gently stated, "That's the woman I remember."

Stopping in the hallway to collect herself, she heard mother and son engage in conversation. It was only now that Bettie understood why Mary had always interacted with people as she did. Mary had committed her life to control what she could to protect her son and family. The warmth in her had been locked away, hidden, out of necessity.