Southern Spirits (The Southern Series Book 3) Read online

  “Doc thinks he might need to take them early, I think he’s afraid you might pop!” John said.

  “I might…I can’t believe the stretch marks. My stomach will never be the same again!” I exclaimed, pulling the comforter back over my tummy.

  “Oh, Andie-girl, give it up. You are still the most gorgeous brunette on the planet, pregnant or not! You know it used to drive Banton nuts, when you started all that I’m so pregnant, I’m so out of shape stuff.” John paused and glanced down at me. The silence in the room was overwhelming. His use of Banton’s name hung heavy in the air.

  The tears began to appear silently in fresh streams down my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, Chandler. I’m…” John pulled me in to his chest as Constance began to sob, spooning her body behind mine. John pulled us both into his arms, and we lay holding each other the rest of the afternoon.

  Chapter Five

  “This just came for you, Chandler.” Constance shut the front door and walked into the living room where I’d been camped out on the sofa for a week. I’d decided our bedroom had too many memories, and all of the Aldon in and out of the house helped to fill the empty void.

  “What is it?” I asked, peering over the laptop screen.

  ”I don’t know, a small box the postman just left out front with one of the Aldon,” she replied as she placed it in my lap. Checking the label, I found nothing but my name and address. I tore the tab label across the end and a letter and DVD fell out.

  “What’s on that?” Constance asked as she picked them up.

  I opened the letter, and read aloud.

  Dearest Chandler:

  Banton’s father and I want you to know we understand your feelings and we respect them. We love you so much; we were upset about your decision regarding Banton’s service, but Sweetheart, we had to go on, and we had to have some closure. Matt and I planned the service at the suggestion of the Navy Chaplain and our own Pastor. We know the Doctor kept you in the hospital until Saturday, and whatever the reason, we don’t want you to ever regret your decision not to attend. When you are ready, please call us. We want to come to see you. Until then, we are sending you a copy of the service provided to us by the Church. You may keep it, until you are ready for it.

  Claudia, Will, Ava Grace, Julia, Matt and I send our infinite love to you, and hope you will call us soon. We are worried about you and the babies.

  All our love,

  Elaine

  I folded the letter, and then placed it back into the cardboard envelope along with the DVD I retrieved from Constance.

  Aunt Sue came around the back of the sofa. She’d been listening from the foyer. She sat down quietly beside me on the sofa and put her arms around me.

  “Chandler Ann, don’t you dare feel a bit guilty about not going. It was your decision, and we stand by you, Sweetheart. You are entitled to deal with this however you decide,” she stated firmly as she looked into my eyes.

  “Absolutely. I can’t believe she would just send this and not come in person, or call.” Constance shook her head.

  “Oh, I don’t think she meant it that way. I’m not angry with them anymore. I feel a little guilty. Not about my decision, but my not answering their phone calls. I just couldn’t talk about having a service for Banton; he’s not dead. They just don’t believe it like I do. I know they love me.” I began to tear up as I held the envelope.

  “Well, I’ll just take this and put it away. You can call them in your own time. You will know when you can handle it.” She smiled and patted my leg as she rose.

  “So, what are you working on now?” Constance asked, leaning over on my shoulder.

  “I just thought I would organize my notes on the house and put it in a narrative. I want to write a history on the Johnson and DeLee families and a history on my house and the cemetery.”

  “I think that’s neat, Andie. But, why now?” she asked, twirling a section of my hair that had fallen lose out of my pony-tail.

  “I feel like I need to give the house closure. However mine and Banton’s story ends, I want to have all the rest on paper. I…I think I might sell the house.”

  “What? Chandler, you love this house! It’s you…you’ve put so much of yourself into it. I even feel like its home, now,” Constance exclaimed. I pulled back and studied her face. It was so unlike her to become attached to something inanimate. And she had certainly never indicated she was in love with this old house. I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “So, I’m attached. There, I said it. I’ve grown to love it here, and all of the people in it. And the memories I have here…” She began to tear up as well.

  “That’s exactly why I can’t stay, if…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. After a long pause, I added “It’s a good project anyway, to keep me busy. Otherwise I think I would climb the walls!”

  “What can I do to help?” Constance asked, sitting back upright again. “I need a diversion too.”

  “Well, there are some things I need cleared up, some things I think Mr. Jackson might still be able to help us with. Do you think maybe you might go down and see if he feels like walking down to visit? I could make us some lemonade, and I miss talking to him.”

  I shut my eyes, remembering the night the Navy had paid us the visit. Mr. Jackson had hurried right down and paid his respects, just before I was rushed to the clinic. I hadn’t visited with him since.

  “Sure, I’ll just go and check on him, and if he doesn’t feel up to it, just jot some questions down, and I’ll take a recorder down to his place,” she brightened up at the little assignment. She’d just stepped out the front door, when I heard it open again.

  “Bebe, hellooo, you have visitors, are you up?” Everett called from the foyer. I popped my head above the sofa and waived to him.

  “Oh, there you are. Ma Petit Bebe, you aren’t supposed to be up! Whatever are we going to do with you?” Everett exclaimed as he came into the room. John, Sam and Patrick followed close behind him.

  “I’m resting like I’m supposed to, and I’m staying off my feet. I just can’t stay cooped up upstairs. I have to stay down here, around people.” I paused, and then asked, “What are the four of you up to?”

  “Well, since it’s a lazy afternoon, we just thought we might get a little work done upstairs in the nursery.”

  “Yeah, I need a project, and we’ve got some little shelves to build, Andie-girl. We need plenty of places to store those mitts, baseball bats and Tonka trucks!” John grinned as he dropped down on the sofa beside me. He leaned over and pulled me into his chest, placing a kiss on the top of my head. The hug felt really good, I thought.

  “Chandler, I need…Oh, hey, Everett, John…just who I need.” Constance came breathlessly through the front door.

  “What’s up, Diva-doll?” John asked as he rose from the sofa.

  “Mr. Jackson. I went down there and knocked and knocked, but I couldn’t get him to the door.”

  “Maybe he went somewhere, or to the doctor,” Sam answered.

  “On a Sunday afternoon? I’m worried he might be sick and can’t come to the door.” She wrung her hands, and I began to get anxious. He was always there.

  “We’ll go down there and check on him for you. Come on, Cowboy. Let’s go see about our sweet little neighbor.”

  The four of them left just as Aunt Sue came back into the living room. “I thought I heard voices,” she inquired, wiping her hands on a cup towel.

  “Yeah, I went down to check on Mr. Jackson and couldn’t get him to come to the door. Everett, John, Sam and Patrick went down to see if they could get him,” Constance answered her.

  “Well, when they get back, invite all of them to dinner. I’ll have etouffee ready in about thirty minutes.”

  Constance went upstairs to change clothes as I continued to work away on my laptop, organizing my existing notes in a narrative format. After a few minutes, Constance ran back down the staircase.

  “Oh, no, Chandler, there’s…” She didn’
t finish her sentence.

  “What? I looked up. She crossed over to the window, pulling the curtains back.

  She turned back to me, and then slowly walked back and sat down gently beside me, tears gathering in her eyes.

  I glanced back over to the window, and realized Everett and the others had been gone a suspicious amount of time. Then I heard a siren.

  “There’s an ambulance at Mr. Jackson’s apartment,” she whispered softly, taking my hand in hers.

  The front door opened silently, and then closed, Everett, John, Sam and Patrick returning home. I raised my eyes as the all came around the sofa, Everett and John kneeling in front of us.

  “Oh, Sweet Bebe, I have some sad news. I’m so sorry; I don’t know how to tell you, it’s so untimely…” Everett began. I nodded, for I already knew.

  “Darlin’, we forced the door open when we couldn’t get Mr. Jackson to the door. I could see him through a window. He was lying on his bed; he looked to be resting,” John began. “When we got inside, we checked him and he’d passed away in his sleep. I don’t think it had been long. He was still warm.” He smiled gently and placed his hand on my cheek as I nodded, the tears streaming down my face.

  “Andie-girl, I have to tell you something. Do you remember a while back when we visited with him?” I nodded again. “He’d said it was a lucky man who could die peacefully, surrounded by the sweet images and memories of your beloved…those you loved most in your life.” John reached over and took my hands.

  “Yes,” I took a deep breath as I replied.

  Everett finished for him. “Bebe, we found three pictures clasped in his hands...a picture of his wife from the living room wall; the picture of his children, and a picture of you, dancing with him at your wedding.”

  Everett embraced Constance as John pulled me from the sofa into his arms. He held me in his strong arms for hours that night as I cried for the loss of my dear, sweet friend.

  * * *

  Mr. Jackson’s family held a small, graveside service for him. I was determined to go, and Everett finally relented after several arguments and phone calls to Dr. Lane. I donned the only black dress I had…a short, black sleeveless dress and black hose. I hadn’t worn makeup in weeks, and I felt I owed it to Mr. Jackson to look my best. He’d said a body always needed to dress up for their loved ones and for the Lord on Sunday, if nobody else. So I curled my hair and took the time to put makeup and jewelry on.

  I rode with Everett to the cemetery. It was a hot, sunny, beautiful July day, and as we rode along the shaded road to the burial site, I was thankful it was to be an early morning service, for the heat after noon would be oppressive. I wondered if Mr. Jackson had left a list of his wishes, or if his children just known exactly what he would have wanted. The casket was a plain wooden variety, with a simple swag of ferns, magnolia blossoms, and roses. A lone trumpet played “When the saints go marching in” and “Lord, I’m coming home”.

  As I glanced up over a grassy knoll overlooking the site, I saw several of the Aldon who had been guarding our little neighborhood the past six months. Mr. Stephan was in their midst. Sam, Olivia and Patrick joined us as well as John and Constance. There were at least a hundred other people there besides his rather large gathering of children and grandchildren, and I thought, you shouldn’t be surprised, Andie…He was such a special man. Just look how he touched your life.

  When the crowd began to form a line to speak to Mr. Jackson’s family, I walked down with Everett and John at my side. I waited patiently until I could speak to his daughter and Aunt Chloe, who stood by her side.

  “Oh, Mrs. Chandler! It sho be good to sees you, even at a time like dis!” Aunt Chloe embraced me as Everett patted her shoulder.

  “Mrs. Chloe, I’m so sorry about Mr. Jackson! I’m going to miss him so much,” I assured her as Mr. Jackson’s daughter took my hand.

  “Are you the little lady down the street who Daddy told us about?” she asked as I nodded. “He sure did enjoy your “front porch sits” as he called them. It was so nice of you to check in on him when he was sick and all,” she continued.

  “It was my pleasure. He made my first year in the house a pleasant one, and he helped me so much with the history of the house. Everyone in our neighborhood will miss him!”

  “I sho is sorry ‘bout yo troubles, chile! Red tole us ‘bout Mr. Banton done gone missin. You keep a’prayin to the good lord and study dat bible like I done tole ya. De Lord, he don’t give us mo dan what we can handles.”

  I nodded at her and smiled through my tears.

  “Well, we thanks you for a’comin’ today! I’m sho dat he is a lookin’ down from heaven, and a grinnin’ at all these here folkses dat come to pay dey respects,” Aunt Chloe replied as Everett took my hand. “You two will jes have to come and see me, chile, and let me knows when dem babies come…and stays strong, like I done told ya.”

  I whispered as I answered her, “I will…I promise.”

  * * *

  After the service, we joined John and Sam and the others at my house, and Everett insisted we all go out to eat somewhere before they had to put me back on lockdown at the house.

  “Let’s go to that little Cajun place off-campus…I feel the need to suck the heads off some crawfish, laissez les bon temps rouler!” John whooped. We all loaded into the cars. I visited with Constance in the backseat, and it wasn’t until we pulled up and started up the stairs to the little restaurant that it occurred to me where we were. I stopped cold…It was the restaurant Banton brought me to on our first date.

  “Do you feel all right?” Constance asked as she turned to see why I’d fallen behind.

  “Andie-girl, if you don’t feel up to it, I can run you home so you can get off your feet, maybe this was too much for you,” John commented as he hurried back to my side.

  “No, I’m good. I just…” I began to tear up.

  “What is it?” John looked back at the restaurant, and then back to me. “Oh, gosh, Andie, I’m so sorry!” His face had gone white. Apparently Banton had told him about our first date at some point.

  “No, John, I promise, it’s all right. Let’s eat,” I said, decidedly, climbing the stairs to go in. I was determined I was going to put all of these firsts behind me and get on with things. We entered the restaurant, finding most of our party had already been seated at the back part of the restaurant right by the windows looking out on the patio and the river. A jazz band played, and several couples danced on the dance floor. The memories of the little white dress I’d worn, Banton’s hands on my bare back for the first time, our kiss on the dance floor that had almost made me pass out, the way he’d held me at the table…all came flooding back. I sat mesmerized, watching the couples as they swayed to the music. I could remember thinking that night, If I die tonight, my life would be complete…I am so in love with him.

  “Andie?” Constance asked, peering over her menu at me.

  “What?” I asked. Everyone looked up at me.

  “The waitress is ready to take our order. Do you know what you want to order?” she asked softly as she pushed a glass of water over to me. I took a couple of swallows, and then since I hadn’t even looked at my menu, I asked the waitress, “Do you have some sort of grilled chicken salad?”

  “Sure, is that what you would like?”

  “Yes, please.” It was all I could think of, and I knew I wouldn’t eat it, anyway. I’d had no appetite since the Navy visit.

  Somehow I made it through dinner. I listened to the light chatter around me, and even managed to giggle a couple of times when Everett and John bantered back and forth across the table, sparring with the other Aldon and teasing Constance. Everett asked Constance to dance as the band picked up on a Dixieland number, and Sam and Olivia joined them. We laughed as we watched Everett and Constance. What he lacked in modern dance skills Constance more than made up for.

  I was so tired; I hadn’t really slept in days. As we drove back across town to go home, John pulled me over o
n his shoulder and I fell asleep. I roused slightly when I felt him lift me from the car…The smell of his cologne wafted through my head as he carried me into the house and up the stairs to put me in bed. I felt him place a soft kiss in my hair as he tucked the comforter around me. I feel into a deep sleep, deeper than I had since we’d gotten word of the accident. And I began to dream again…

  I was back in the sewers. It was oppressively hot and muggy, and the stench was overpowering. Some light filtered through from above, and I could hear shuffling noises behind me. I pushed on, struggling to keep from getting sick from the heat and the stench in the air. A muffled cry broke the silence in the distance, and I began to run, kicking up water as I pushed forward. I turned a corner, and I saw them…my babies, tiny, helpless…in the arms of the Tariq. His teeth glistened in the shaft of sunlight streaming through the grating overhead. I flew at him, pulling one of the babies free, and turning to find somewhere to put her, so I could fight him for the other. He laughed and bent his head as if to bite the baby…

  “NO!” I screamed. “Please, no, leave them alone! Take me; I’m the one you want! Please!” I pleaded as his teeth hovered over her.

  “Give me the baby, Chandler, so you can fight him,” My mother commanded from behind me. I turned and hurriedly handed my baby to her, and then flew at the Orco, grabbing the other baby and shoving him backward. My mother flew to my side, and took the second baby as I continued to fight the Tariq. I shouted to her, “Run, Mamma, get them to safety!”

  I shoved him against the wall, and then he pushed me down, crushing me with his weight. He pushed my head downward, and then slammed it against the wall with the full force of his brute strength. I heard a crack, and I could feel the blood as it ran down my forehead and down to my shoulder.

  “You may be a half-breed immune to the change, but you aren’t immune to my feeding on you.” He smiled and then sank his teeth into my shoulder, opening the old wound where he’d bitten me before. As he drank, my world began to swirl out of focus, and I lost the strength and the will to fight him. I realized my mother had the babies and if I just gave in, the Tariq could take me and I wouldn’t have to miss Banton anymore…