Death By Intention, Page 3

  Chapter 3

  They all sat down around the table and put Sam at the head in the place of honor. The girls were arranged around the sides of the old, long, cherry farm kitchen table. The Phelan’s had bought it years ago in the Amish country of Pennsylvania on a vacation trip in anticipation of a large family. Abbey loved its worn, smooth surface with the rich, mellow cherry glow. The six, antique, matching, high-back ladder chairs had all been lovingly taken apart, refinished, reglued, and the seats re-caned by Abbey. Big Sam sat in the captain’s chair, so-called because it had arms along the sides like the chair of a sea captain.

  “Shall we return thanks for this meal?” asked James as they joined hands. “I’ll go ahead and pray. Oh, Father-God, please bless this food to our nourishment. Give your blessings of comfort to this family as they deal with the death of their mother and wife. Hold them in Your loving arms as a Father would His child. Calm their hearts and minds. In Jesus name we pray, amen.”

  Martha looked ready to cry again. “Why don’t we pass the food to our guests first Sara,” began James gently.

  The steaming bowls of spaghetti and home-made sauce started around the table. The O’Brien girls ate ravenously. They even had seconds on the spaghetti and garlic bread. Abbey even made home-made bread for dinners like this. James could never cease to be amazed at how very capable and organized his wife was. He smiled at her. She caught his eye and smiled back. Abbey sat feeding little Sam his bottle and it looked so natural. Maybe another baby wouldn’t be so bad after all?

  After dinner the girls were dismissed upstairs with their bags to get settled in and take their baths for bed. James helped Abbey clear the table while Sam started a fire in the family room. Abbey made some decaf coffee for them. Little Sam slept peacefully in his carrier. The adults retired to the family room; each with a steaming mug of coffee.

  “I want to thank you again for helpin’ with the kids. It takes a burden off my mind. Now, if I can just get enough money together for the funeral for Mary. I have some saved up and I can do some work to make the rest I think,” said Sam

  “Don’t worry too much about that Sam. We’ll be glad to help out,” started Abbey.

  “I don’t need no more charity! I want to take care of my own,” replied Sam tersely.

  “We don’t mean charity Sam. I’ve got a lot that needs fixing on the place right now. I’ve got fences that need mending, a shed to re-roof, ground to till, trees to fell and clean up, and a lot of general tidying up to do after winter. What do you say we sit down later and figure out how much you need for the funeral and I hire you on for spell to make money? I need the help. You need the money. The job will give you time to get settled and look for another job as well, “ answered James.

  “And I have some odd jobs in the house I need done too since James is always so busy at work he never gets them done! He is constantly ‘getting around to it’”, laughed Abbey.

  “Well, I suppose since you both put it that way. You’re sure you need the help?” asked Sam suspiciously.

  “On my honor. It is hard to keep up with 100 acres and a full time practice,” James responded soberly.

  “Okay. It’s a deal. That’ll make it really easy to see the girls too,” finished Sam.

  “It’s settled then. As soon as you get the funeral arrangements made and things organized, we’ll draw up a list of things to get done and figure out a reimbursement plan. More coffee, Sam?” asked James.

  “Naw, I’m going to tell the girls good night and be goin’ home. I need to get things cleaned up around there and do some thinkin’ about the future. Thanks for everything,” said Sam.

  Sam went upstairs, his slow, ponderous footsteps betraying his heaviness of heart to bid his girls goodnight and to pray with each one before they went to sleep. The O’Brien’s went sporadically to church while Mary was alive but there did not seem to be much real faith there. Yet, even thought Mary was dead and Sam should be bitter against God, he still prayed with his daughters. As long as Sam kept talking to God, there would be hope for the family. James went along after Sam to make sure that Sara would be alright upstairs and pray with her. They had moved Sara upstairs with Elizabeth in the same room containing twin beds. Martha had her own room that overlooked the pasture at the foot of the mountain. Sara’s old room had been turned into a temporary nursery for the baby.

  Sam came back downstairs and left. Abbey and James finished up the kitchen. Both loved the satisfaction of leisurely cleaning up after dinner. It gave them both a chance to unwind and talk before settling in for the evening. In fact, over rinsing dishes and wiping the table, many a spiritual conversation took place. James remembered one memorable night when Abbey single-handedly demolished his liberal presuppositions regarding the Genesis flood. Quite a wife he’d married.

  Abbey change little Sam one more time and tucked him in for the first part of the night. They hoped he would sleep for three or four hours before the next feeding. James was not good at the “midnight feedings”. He seemed to possess a male, selective hearing loss gene that did not respond well to children’s crying. A beeper going off awakened him from the deepest slumber to alert wakefulness but a baby crying did not so much as make him stir. At first, Abbey was irritated by this, but then realized James spent so many sleepless nights on-call that she didn’t really mind his not waking up at night. Besides, the few times James did get up to help were so rare, it made it a real treat when it happened!

  The girls were busy being noisy and giggling a lot. James went upstairs and calmed them down. Sara and Elizabeth snuggled under the covers and promised to try and go to sleep. James smiled as he closed the door. He’d just settle for quiet. He knew it would take a few days for Sara to get used to having other children in the house. Talking quietly would be acceptable as long as things didn’t out of hand and noisy.

  Abbey sat curled up on the couch staring absently into the fire with her coffee mug in hand. She had a wisp of blonde hair hanging just along the side of her face. James never loved her more than at times like this. She heard his tread and turned to smile at him. She patted the couch.

  “There’s a spot for my favorite man. I just need some cuddle time after all the activity with the kids. I’d forgotten how noisy it is with several children in the house,” mused Abbey.

  James plopped down beside Abbey.

  “Do you think you knew Mary pretty well?” asked James.

  “Yes. I actually knew her quite well. Our church circle used to take food over to her house about once a month. I used to sit and chat with her and help put the groceries away. She also used to come to the ‘all church circle’ sometimes. I really liked her a lot. She had a sweet spirit although it was hard to find out where she stood with regard to the Lord. I can hardly believe she’s gone,” said Abbey.

  “I need to ask you something and it must be in confidence. We are getting an autopsy on Mary. There is some question of drug abuse as a cause of her death. The nurses told me privately that they found white powder that looked like cocaine on her night stand. Do you think Mary was an abuser?” asked James seriously.

  “Why no. She never impressed me at all as that sort of person. Her little home was immaculate and those girls had excellent care with lots of love. She and Sam were poor but very happy. That doesn’t seem to make sense to me,” said Abbey. “Do you think she was using drugs?”

  “I’m not sure. Something doesn’t quite fit in her death. She didn’t have any heart or medical problems. I hope the autopsy answers some of those questions. The nurses say there was no sign of powder in Mary’s nose or mouth to indicate recent drug use. Mary did have talcum on her body. Maybe that was the powder by the bedside. And there was no syringe for intravenous injection. Mary had no characteristic track marks anywhere on her arms, legs, or body consistent with IV drug abuse. I am frankly puzzled. Right now I’d like to just forget about her death and snuggl
e by the fire with you.”

  James rose and put Bach’s Brandenburg concerti, refilled the coffee cups, stoked the fire, and settled in to just hold his wife. Neither spoke for a long time. Finally, James stretched, yawned and looked at his watch.

  “Oh my! It’s almost 9:30! Time for bed for me. We’d better scoot. Little Sam might wake up at any time and I have full clinics tomorrow,” exclaimed James.

  “Any excuse to stop cuddling,” teased Abbey.

  “I’ll put Zeke out, lock the doors, and set the alarm,” returned James.

  Zeke had the run of the place, including the house during the day, but slept outside at night. Zeke liked his heated kennel a lot. James specially built the elevated dog house with heating and cooling. There was a plastic doggy door to keep the kennel reasonably heated or cooled. The heated, automatic water bowl sat directly outside the doghouse under a small awning so Zeke could get a drink without getting wet. The dog run actually followed along next to the garage. James put a covered breeze-way from the house to the garage so in bad weather you could put Zeke in the dog house without getting wet or snowed upon. The insulated heating and cooling vents ran in the breeze-way ceiling to the dog house. The inside door of the dog house opened directly into the garage itself. The run consisted of a concrete floor on one side and sand on the other side. The concrete provided a nice area that was easily washed and cleaned. James fashioned the floor with enough slope to shed water when it rained or was washed. It was even heated so the snow would melt on it in the winter. A special gutter ran along the concrete carrying water and feces into a large removal drain designed for such purposes. The sand provided a softer area for the dog to lie outside in the sun. Abbey sometimes told James that Zeke lived better than some people she knew. The dog house even had a hinged roof so they could take Zeke’s cedar bed out to wash it every week. James made a point to refill the bed with fresh cedar at least 3-4 times a year. The cedar allegedly kept the fleas out.

  Zeke trotted out into his bed and James turned on the yard lights. He went back inside, armed the alarm, and headed upstairs for one last check on the girls. They all snored away peacefully. James descended the steps and made his way to their room. Abbey sat combing her long, blonde tresses. James walked up behind her and hugged her neck. He took the brush and silently finished her toilet. Abbey stood up and gave him a big bear hug. She padded off to bed. James quickly brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas and climbed into bed.

  “James, may we have another one?” began Abbey in a small voice.

  “Another what?” inquired James.

  “You know. Another baby. I want a baby, James. I don’t care about the risk or logic. Seeing little Sam reopened my heart. Please, please James,” pleaded Abbey.

  “We’ll see,” grunted James.

  “You really mean it? You didn’t say ‘no’ this time! Does that mean yes?” said Abbey excitedly as she sat up on one elbow.

  “I suppose it does mean yes,” commented James drily.

  “Oh James! I do love you so!” exclaimed Abbey as she threw herself on James.

  James thought maybe having another baby was a good idea after all.