Previously Loved Treasures (Serendipity #2)(11)

Ida had waited thirty years, and another day seemed too much to bear. “Did you find James?”

“I’ll give you all the details tomorrow,” Caldwell replied.

“Why can’t you just tell me now?” Ida asked, but instead of giving a reason, Caldwell just said he’d be there at eight the next morning and hung up.

That night sleep was impossible for Ida. She was too hot with the blanket on and too cold with it off. The pillow seemed lumpy, and the ticking of the bedside clock became a troublesome distraction. After listening to the tick, tick, tick for more than an hour, she wrapped the clock in a flannel nightgown and stuffed it into the bottom drawer of the chest.

Even with the clock gone, Ida twisted and turned. There were brief moments when she could imagine Caldwell had found James. Not just James, but his entire family. When that happened the warmth of happiness settled over her but it was always short-lived, for the fear of truth followed close behind. It came, clamped an icy claw around her throat, and screamed in her ear.

Ida kept asking herself if Caldwell found James and his family, why didn’t he say so? Why didn’t he simply say where they were and how much she owed him? It was never a good thing when someone was hesitant to present their bill. You get what you pay for.

She thought back on Big Jim’s last visit with Doctor Morgenstern. That day the doctor Jim had gone to for more than fifty years hung an X-ray on the wall and explained how he would refer Jim to an oncologist. When they got ready to leave the office, Jim pulled out his wallet. Doctor Morgenstern shook his head and said, “No charge.” It was the only time Ida ever remembered such a thing happening.

When worry and apprehension rose from her stomach into her throat and threatened to choke off her breath, Ida climbed out of bed and went to the kitchen. Before dawn she’d baked two peach pies plus the mincemeat she’d planned to add to her merchandise offering in the fall.

At seven o’clock the residents came for breakfast. Ida had a box of Cheerios, a box of corn flakes, a gallon jug of milk, and a peach pie on the table. “Help yourself,” she said, then turned and went back into the kitchen.

“Where’s the coffee?” Louie said, but by then Ida was gone.

As the others began to eat, Wilbur rose and headed toward the kitchen. He found Ida standing in front of the sink with a stream of tears running down her face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

Strangely enough he used the same words Jim would have used. Ida turned and fell into his arms sobbing.

“I know something is wrong,” she said. “Something horrible.” She poured out the story of James leaving and Sam Caldwell’s search for the boy.

“Maybe it’s too early to start crying,” Wilbur said. “You haven’t even heard what this Mister Caldwell has to say.”

“If it was good news,” Ida sniffled, “he’d have come right out and said it. So if it’s not something good, it’s got to be something bad.”

“Not necessarily,” Wilbur replied. “A whole lot of life falls between good and bad.”

“That’s true,” Ida conceded.

“Of course it is,” Wilbur said. “Getting married and having babies, that’s good. But all the in-between days of washing diapers, cleaning house, getting out of bed, and going to work, they’re neither good nor bad, they’re just life.”

Ida gave one last sniffle and nodded.

Once she’d stopped crying, Wilbur volunteered to clean up the breakfast dishes and suggested she go freshen up before Mister Caldwell arrived.

~

At five minutes after eight the doorbell rang, and when Ida opened the door Sam Caldwell stood there with the same blank face he always wore, not happy, not sad, not telling anything. “Morning.”

Ida invited Sam in and called for Wilbur to join them as she led the way to the dining room. The three of them sat at the corner end of the table.

“I’ve got good news and not-so-good news,” Caldwell said.

Wilbur slid his chair a bit closer to Ida’s and reached for her hand. “Why don’t you start with the good news?”

Caldwell fumbled through his briefcase, pulled out a sheaf of papers, and laid it on the table. Paper-clipped to the folder was an invoice for eight hundred and forty-seven dollars.

Ida smiled. You get what you pay for.

“Starting at the beginning,” Caldwell said, “James met Joelle Williams when he was working at a club in Nashville. While he was in Nashville he was living at her place, and when he left for New Orleans she went with him. There’s no record of them ever being married, but they did have a child together and the girl was given the Sweetwater name.”

“James didn’t marry the child’s mother?” Ida asked, her disappointment apparent.

Caldwell shook his head. “It doesn’t appear so. He stayed with Joelle for almost five years, then took off. The woman who lived upstairs from them at the time said he claimed to have a job in Mexico, but there’s no proof of it.”

“But he came back, didn’t he?”

Caldwell shook his head again. “Afraid not. Joelle raised the child herself.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Ida murmured.

“Were you able to locate Missus Sweetwater’s son or this Joelle?” Wilbur asked.