“Business? No, I don’t understand business. Your father does. He…” She had obviously run onto the rocks again, for she went silent and staring for a few seconds before she recovered. “You are a lawyer,” she told him. “Your father is very, very proud of you.”
“And I am proud of our family,” Trevor replied. “Of what we have accomplished together. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
“A long walk? Yes, but he’ll be back soon,” she said.
Trevor looked at the two doctors for help, but they had become simply mute witnesses as had Matthew. It was up to Mrs. Swanscott’s son to find the way home.
“Father may be late,” he said.
She did not respond.
“Father…may not come back.” He quickly added, “For a while, that is.”
“He’ll come back. Of course he’ll come back.”
“Mother…something may have happened. Something that was…very bad. An accident, perhaps. I don’t know, I’m just saying. Something may have happened.”
A finger went to Trevor’s lips. “Shhhhh,” she said. “You don’t know. Ask anyone. Ask Gordon, he can tell you. When Nicholas goes for a walk, it’s because…it’s because he has to think. About a problem. Some problem that’s troubling him. A trouble, that’s it. He’s gone for a walk because there’s been…” She swallowed thickly. “There’s been some trouble.”
“Yes,” Trevor said. “Do you know what the trouble is?”
“I don’t…know. There’s something…the wine was…” She shook her head, trying to cast a recollection away. “Nicholas has been very worried lately. The lawyer was here. That Mr. Primm. I think…he did stay for dinner, yes. He said…” Here she winced, as if she’d been physically struck, and it took her a little while and an effort to continue. “He said we have to prove it. Prove it. Very important, he said. To prove it.” She suddenly looked at her hands and spread her fingers. “Oh my,” she said. “My rings need to be cleaned.”
“Mother? Look at me. Please.”
She lowered her ringless hands and obeyed.
“Do you see that young man over there?” Trevor motioned toward Matthew.
“Yes.” Mrs. Swanscott leaned closer to her son and whispered, “Speaking of accidents.”
“His name is Matthew Corbett. He’s a friend of mine, Mother. Now, as I said I’m going to be very busy here for a while. Very much…tied up. I won’t be able to see you as often as I’d like. I may not be here again.” He caught the ripple of dismay on her face. “I mean, for…who knows how long?”
“You’re a very busy and successful lawyer,” she said. “Every penny worth it.”
“Matthew is going to come and see you, from time to time. He’ll sit with you and listen if you want to talk, or talk if you’d like to listen, or read to you if you’d like that.” He gave her hands a squeeze. “I want you to know,” he went on, “that when Matthew is sitting beside you, I also am there. When he is reading to you, so I am, and when you speak to him I hear. Can you understand that?”
“I think you’re a little brain-addled after that long trip.” She pulled a hand free and gently touched his cheek. “But if it makes you happy, and you’re so busy, then yes. Your father and I certainly won’t mind if a friend of yours comes to the house from time to time. Will he want to stay for dinner?”
Matthew heard, and replied, “Yes, madam. I would.”
“He’s not a freeloader, is he?” This question was directed to Trevor in a whisper.
“No, he’s quite respectable.”
“Good. Well, he would be, wouldn’t he? If he’s a friend of yours?” She stroked his cheek, as Matthew thought perhaps she had when he was a small, smart, and industrious boy and she saw all the possibilities ahead. “It is late, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Late, Mother?”
“Late for me. I’m such an old dotty. But you…you have everything wonderful ahead of you. Your life, and Margaret. And children of your own, don’t forget that. What you might become, Trevor. The man you shall grow to be. You know, your father’s still a boy in so many ways. I think he shall never fully grow up. How can it be, that you and he are so alike?”
“I don’t know,” came the answer. “I only know I loved…I love Father, and I love you. And I shall always love the both of you, and hold you the highest in my heart.”
“Oh!” She playfully cuffed his chin. “That’s what all sons say, until they have sons of their own.”
Trevor lowered his head for a moment. Matthew knew then why he could get away with hiding behind the mask of Andrew Kippering who hid behind the Masker, because when Trevor looked up at his mother again he was smiling as if he had no care under God’s heaven. He kissed her cheek, and she said, “I think I’d better go to bed. I’m so tired from all this.”
All this was not explained, but Trevor helped her into bed as the two doctors watched. When Trevor got her situated and the covers pulled up, she smiled at him and held his hand. “Promise me,” she said.
“Promise you what?”
“Promise me…you’ll go to the kitchen and ask Priscilla to make you some chicken soup before you leave.”
“Oh, I can’t leave without a bowl of Priscilla’s chicken soup, can I?”
“Perish the thought,” said Mrs. Swanscott, in a voice that was beginning to drift. “When I wake up,” she said, “everything…will be so much brighter. Don’t you think?”
