out at the house. He’s back from the hospital and, the way he is, they’re not going to give him his old job.”
Mitch nodded patiently but did a double take behind his eyes. LaSalle. Big nigger EMT drove an ambulance out of Magnolia Regional before he went to Iraq as a medic in the guard. Robert Kirby’s last gesture on earth had been to drag LaSalle out of an ambush kill zone.
“Before his stroke, Daddy remarked we should look after him, considering how he got wounded and all,” Ellie said.
“Fine,” Mitch said. Lot he had to say about it. She managed the finances from her trust fund and paid the bills. After he quit the bank, she gave him a monthly allowance.
After a pause, she went on.
“Mitchell Lee,” she said frankly, “they brought in another expert this morning. He’s the one who did the brain scan when they had Daddy down in Jackson. I confess, the tests he conducted were not exactly what you’d call scientific. They do this painful sternum rub and this thing called ‘doll’s eyes.’ You know how Daddy’s eyes kind of roll from side to side? Well, they move his head and check to see if his eyes normally adjust with the movement. He doesn’t appear to be able to acquire and track movement, an object.” To illustrate, she moved an upright finger back and forth.
She shook her head. “They say he’s in this sensitive gray area; a range between minimally conscious and a persistent vegetative state. And now he’s contracted pneumonia and they’ve pumped him full of antibiotics…”
Mitch narrowed his eyes. “Did Bob Watts bring in the expert?” The senior Watts, Billie Watts’s father, was the Kirby family lawyer.
“Well, yes.”
“He still have that lawyer with a notary stamp standing vigil round the clock outside Hiram’s room?”
Ellie nodded. “If Daddy wakes up just a little all he has to do is nod to transfer power of attorney to me. Daddy wanted to donate part of the estate to a research hospital for veterans. In Robert’s name…but he never got around to putting it in writing…”
Mitch nodded. “You mean Bob Watts wants to reduce the size of the estate before Hiram dies, to ease the tax bite.”
“That too,” Ellie said frankly.
Mitch pursed his lips, lowered his eyes, and nodded. Her fingers floated out and rested on his forearm. Inside, he cringed at her touch. Really wish you wouldn’t do that…
She said, “Cornel Wight at the bank says I have to prepare to make a decision about Daddy. He’s suggesting we convene a meeting with the board of directors. Mitch, look at me…”
He raised his head and engaged the full intensity of her driven blue eyes.
“…Cornel canvassed the board and says it would be all right for you to attend.” She tightened her grip, and for one almost sweet moment her blue eyes reached out to him. “I’d like it if you’d agree to ease back…into things.”
Startled by the sudden gesture of intimacy, Mitch started to pull away.
“Mitchell, honey, listen to me, they’re coming around. They know how Robert was always hard on you. No one’s surprised you started drinking. It’s different now; after all the work you’ve done. They know the monument is for Daddy.”
Gently, Mitch disengaged her grip. “Ellie, don’t give up on Hiram so quick. Give him a fighting chance. He could still pull out of this. No,” he shook his head with slow finality, “out of respect, I can’t go near this. You know what people say about me. It’s best I finish what I started, so I’m driving to Memphis in the morning. I reserved a room in a Holiday Inn. Might take two days to finalize the paperwork on the monument, pick up the last check from the Heritage Group, and see to the dedication plaque.”
“Really wish you’d stay home,” she said, the plea still in her eyes. “I’d like you to be out at Kirby Creek when the reenactors show up, so they don’t tear up the grounds again dragging in their cannons.”
Mitch averted his eyes
Mitch nodded patiently but did a double take behind his eyes. LaSalle. Big nigger EMT drove an ambulance out of Magnolia Regional before he went to Iraq as a medic in the guard. Robert Kirby’s last gesture on earth had been to drag LaSalle out of an ambush kill zone.
“Before his stroke, Daddy remarked we should look after him, considering how he got wounded and all,” Ellie said.
“Fine,” Mitch said. Lot he had to say about it. She managed the finances from her trust fund and paid the bills. After he quit the bank, she gave him a monthly allowance.
After a pause, she went on.
“Mitchell Lee,” she said frankly, “they brought in another expert this morning. He’s the one who did the brain scan when they had Daddy down in Jackson. I confess, the tests he conducted were not exactly what you’d call scientific. They do this painful sternum rub and this thing called ‘doll’s eyes.’ You know how Daddy’s eyes kind of roll from side to side? Well, they move his head and check to see if his eyes normally adjust with the movement. He doesn’t appear to be able to acquire and track movement, an object.” To illustrate, she moved an upright finger back and forth.
She shook her head. “They say he’s in this sensitive gray area; a range between minimally conscious and a persistent vegetative state. And now he’s contracted pneumonia and they’ve pumped him full of antibiotics…”
Mitch narrowed his eyes. “Did Bob Watts bring in the expert?” The senior Watts, Billie Watts’s father, was the Kirby family lawyer.
“Well, yes.”
“He still have that lawyer with a notary stamp standing vigil round the clock outside Hiram’s room?”
Ellie nodded. “If Daddy wakes up just a little all he has to do is nod to transfer power of attorney to me. Daddy wanted to donate part of the estate to a research hospital for veterans. In Robert’s name…but he never got around to putting it in writing…”
Mitch nodded. “You mean Bob Watts wants to reduce the size of the estate before Hiram dies, to ease the tax bite.”
“That too,” Ellie said frankly.
Mitch pursed his lips, lowered his eyes, and nodded. Her fingers floated out and rested on his forearm. Inside, he cringed at her touch. Really wish you wouldn’t do that…
She said, “Cornel Wight at the bank says I have to prepare to make a decision about Daddy. He’s suggesting we convene a meeting with the board of directors. Mitch, look at me…”
He raised his head and engaged the full intensity of her driven blue eyes.
“…Cornel canvassed the board and says it would be all right for you to attend.” She tightened her grip, and for one almost sweet moment her blue eyes reached out to him. “I’d like it if you’d agree to ease back…into things.”
Startled by the sudden gesture of intimacy, Mitch started to pull away.
“Mitchell, honey, listen to me, they’re coming around. They know how Robert was always hard on you. No one’s surprised you started drinking. It’s different now; after all the work you’ve done. They know the monument is for Daddy.”
Gently, Mitch disengaged her grip. “Ellie, don’t give up on Hiram so quick. Give him a fighting chance. He could still pull out of this. No,” he shook his head with slow finality, “out of respect, I can’t go near this. You know what people say about me. It’s best I finish what I started, so I’m driving to Memphis in the morning. I reserved a room in a Holiday Inn. Might take two days to finalize the paperwork on the monument, pick up the last check from the Heritage Group, and see to the dedication plaque.”
“Really wish you’d stay home,” she said, the plea still in her eyes. “I’d like you to be out at Kirby Creek when the reenactors show up, so they don’t tear up the grounds again dragging in their cannons.”
Mitch averted his eyes
Similar Books
