“What are you doing here?”
Ella lifted her skirts off the porch floor, brushed past Margaret and waved at the servant to bring her trunk into the parlor. “Good to see you as well Margaret. I’ve missed your prudish pout. Where’s my mother?”
“Ella, oh dear Ella. Your father is so sick!” Hannah Durant came tumbling down the stairs at the sound of her daughter’s voice. “Please, we mustn’t cause a stir today. Margaret, go fetch Ella some tea will you dear?”
Margaret was indignant. “Humph,” she said.
“How is Father?” Ella said.
Hannah looked tired. “He’s taken ill again with pleurisy, Margaret and I have been spending day and night attending to his needs, trying to take the pain away with the medicine the doctor had left, and keeping him comfortable when he went into sweats. Even the butler was asked to assist. But we are all so exhausted, Ella. I’m so glad you could come.”
Dr. Durant was racked by a coughing fit when William entered his room. Ella was calmly helping him out of a nightshirt that was soaked in sweat. William was taken aback by his father’s appearance. He looked gray. The man who had driven his laborers on the transcontinental line to mutiny because of his harsh tactics and relentless drive, was no longer present. His father was as vulnerable to death as the rest of humanity.
William stood at the door and watched Ella comfort their father. She gave him a spoonful of liquid medicine and his cough started to subside. She gently made him lie back on the pillows, and then sat next to him to wait until he fell asleep. William waited by the doorway, not wanting to disturb the scene. Ella had changed as well. Her composure was more mature. Was it because of her recent experience with the Sisters? He wasn’t sure what Ella had been doing this past year. His mother never revealed anything to him, and he never asked.
Ella gathered the spoon off the bedside table and strode over toward William, motioning him to follow her out the door.
“He’ll sleep now. The medicine the doctor left him is very strong,” she said in the hallway.
William could hear the grandfather clock ticking in the entranceway at the foot of the staircase, the sound filling the space between them. He was reluctant to speak to Ella, believing deep down that this short burst of compassion for their father wouldn’t last. How much, he wondered, was this an act of contrition she had learned from her time spent at the convent? And how much was a façade she was putting on for her mother to see, ensuring she wouldn’t be left out when their father’s will was made known and all the land holdings in the Adirondacks were at their disposal?
He finally broke his silence. “Estelle told me that Putnam has agreed to publish your book of poetry.” It was the only thing he could think to say that would not end up in an argument.
“Yes.”
“Very good.”
“Thank you.”
“Is he dying?”
“Yes. But he’s fighting it.”
“It’s just like him to do so.”
“Yes, it is.” Ella looked back at the door to their father’s room. A look of disgust fell over her.
She turned to William. “I’m here because of Mother.”
William smiled momentarily. So he was right about her act of contrition. ”Of course, why else?”
“He treated me very poorly the last time I saw him. I will never forgive him. And I intend to take control of my own life once he is no longer with us.” She said this with such venom it took William by surprise.
He did not want to start a fight with her in front of their father’s bedroom door and he knew Ella enough to know that she would try to drag him into one.
“I’d better go speak with Mother now.” William left his sister and headed down the hall toward his mother’s bedroom.
He didn’t tell Ella that the family lawyer, John Barbour was on his way. William had telegraphed him from New York City. He needed to find out if father had a will.
“Ella is attending him. He’s sleeping soundly,” William said once he entered Hannah’s bedchamber and sat down.
“Tell me, Mother, where has Ella been staying when she is not at the convent assisting the Sisters?”
“She stays with the Dix’s. She seems to get about fairly easily for herself now. She does look happy, I must admit.”
“I see,” William said. He wondered what she would do once their father died and she no longer had to repent behind the convent walls.
He looked at his mother sitting at her vanity table, attending to her hair.
“I’ve asked John Barbour to come,” he said finally.
Hannah looked up from her brushing. “Heavens, what for?”
“Mother, we need to find out what father’s intentions are. He has obviously been planning for this, this situation.” He tried to stay delicate with her. “He has commissioned a mausoleum at the Green Wood cemetery in Brooklyn, and—”
“You think I don’t know? We planned that after we sold the property for Prospect Park. We both decided to rest where we had first lived.”
“The most practical thing is to find out what else he has planned for when he dies.” There, he’d said it.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Hannah called.
The butler opened it to announce that Mr. Barbour had arrived. William looked over at his mother. Her brows were knit together in concern.
William met Barbour in the hallway entrance. “John, thank you for meeting us at such late notice but my father is very ill.”
“I know all about it, William. I received word from Mr. Sutphen.”
William wondered how Sutphen knew; he certainly hadn’t told him anything.
“William.” Barbour pulled him aside toward the door to his father’s library. “We need to talk. Before your mother comes down.”
The men went into the library.
“Can I get you a drink?” William said as he poured himself a glass of whiskey.
“Yes, that would be wonderful.” Barbour settled himself into one of the comfortable chairs that faced the garden. “I have drawn up some papers that I think you should read. One is assigning the deed to this house in your mother’s name, the other is a document that was forced on me quite frankly. Some of the stockholders in the Adirondack Railroad Company want your father to sign over his shares. Sutphen sent me these papers weeks ago. I just haven’t found a good moment to show them to your father.”
Interesting, William mused, that Barbour chose the most opportune time, when his father was at his weakest, to present him these papers. As for signing the deed to the North Creek house over to his mother, he wondered why that was necessary.
“Why does my mother need to be brought into my father’s messy business affairs all of the time?”
“Signing over the deed to her protects her and the rest of the family, William, it will save the house from creditors.”
William realized Barbour was right. The last thing he wanted was to see his mother cast out of her own house. “My father is resting now John. We’ll have our dinner and see how he’s feeling tomorrow. I assume you brought luggage so that you could stay the night?”
Barbour nodded.
“Fine then. Let’s not say anything about these documents to my mother just yet.”
“But she has to sign this. You know as well as I do, William, that your father is obstinate to the point of being irrational.” Barbour started to lift legal papers from his satchel just as Hannah entered the room.
“Good evening, John.” She met him as he stood to greet her. They embraced. “William,” she turned to her son, “I’ve sent word to your Uncle Charles.”
The men looked at her solemnly. So she finally accepted this was going to be the end.
However, it wasn’t. Two days went by and then one bright sunny morning Dr. Durant woke and asked for his breakfast in bed. By then the house had been deeded over to Hannah, but there was still the matter of the stocks. Barbour decided to bring him the documents and explained his reasoning for changing the title to the house.
“We put it in Hannah’s name, Thomas,” he said. “It was a precautionary measure. In case you, well, let’s face it, we don’t want Hannah to lose the house when you’re gone.” He felt he need not explain any further. His client would know that the creditors were waiting for any assets they could take from Thomas Durant. “And then there is this.” Barbour put the papers from Sutphen on his lap.
Dr. Durant picked them up and examined the contents.
William had never seen his father look so angry.
“I think I’ve heard enough, John, leave me with William,” Dr. Durant said. He was seething when John Barbour left them to speak privately.
“Why the hell did you put the house in your mother’s name? And what’s the meaning of this document.” He waved it in William’s face.
William looked down at his father by the side of the bed. How could this man, who was almost dead, suddenly become so enraged?
“Why don’t you ask Mr. Sutphen about that document? It was his doing, John was only a messenger.”
“To hell with Sutphen, they’re paying him off to do their bidding. He goes to the highest taker. If you haven’t figured that out yet you’re more of an idiot that I thought.”
William was stunned. He knew the man was sick but his father had never insulted him this way. Is this how he truly thought of William? Would he ever then, be in charge of the Adirondack Railroad Company as his title implied? He took the document from his father’s hand and stood up to leave.
“Where are you going son? Stay here. We need to talk about a few things.”
William kept walking. He opened the door to the bedroom and there in the hall stood Ella with a tray of coffee.
“Oh William,” she said, embarrassed for him, as she had heard the whole exchange while she waited by the door to enter, “I’m sorry, you startled me.”
William looked down at Ella in a daze, his mind reeling. No doubt she heard the whole exchange.
He felt faint. He knew his father was calling to him, telling him to stay, but he needed to get out of the stifling room. He swung the door open wider for Ella to enter and said nothing as he shut the door firmly behind him. He took a deep breath before walking to his room to collect his luggage.