A Sister's Survival

The big house in The Woodlands was silent all throughout the evening. And that’s what Liz noticed when she first walked in the door early the next morning. She used her key to enter the house. And that’s when the strong aroma hit her. She sniffed. Gas filled her nostrils. She covered her nose and immediately slammed the door shut. She’d had a key to the garage door that she’d go through in order to enter the house by way of the kitchen.

Liz’s mind raced.

“What’s going on with the gas? Why is it leaking?” Alarmed, she got her cell phone and dialed Mrs. Taylor.

It was six in the morning. And she’d never tried to contact her boss that early before.

The call went into voice mail.

“Mrs. Taylor. It’s Liz. This is an emergency. You have a gas leak at your house. I’m going to call the gas company. I-I—call me back.”

Her mind whirled. Her heart pumped with fear. She thought about the girls. Liz had been working there since midsummer. Her normal procedure was to arrive at the house around six. Burgundy would already be up, but the girls would still be sleep. Liz would enter the house and, if needed, get breakfast started. She’d wake up the girls and get them ready for the day. Sometimes Natalia and Sidnee would have a schedule that included participating in planned activities created for children. Summer day camps, aquatic centers, and boat houses. Liz would play chauffeur and security guard. Basically, she’d do anything and everything that was asked of her—as long as she was with the girls.

Liz decided to turn around and take a few steps back down the walkway that led to the house.

“What on earth is going on here? Is the house about to explode?” She peered up to look at the windows of the second floor. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But looks could be deceiving.

When she first came to work for the Taylors, she was impressed, almost intimidated. This husband and wife were as close to a “power couple” as she’d ever been. Working for them was fascinating as well as stressful. She never wanted to make any mistakes while having the girls in her care.

While Liz stood there gazing at the house and fretting about what might happen, she realized she still had not hung up from the voice mail she’d left for Burgundy. Feeling anxious and embarrassed, Liz hung up and called Nate.

That call also went into voice mail. She left him the same message. Liz pulled up the Internet on her phone and located the number to CenterPoint Energy. She hung up and waited.

When a gas truck arrived, she identified herself and explained what was going on.

“Is there anyone in the house?” the gas company employee asked. Another uniformed male was also with him.

“Not that I know of. I called the owners of the house but got no answer.”

“I see.”

Liz used her to key to let them in. She waited outside, her heart wildly beating as she imagined what might have caused the leak.

The men were gone for about five minutes. She dialed Mrs. Taylor again while she waited but got no answer.

Soon the first guy came back outside. “It was hot in the kitchen. And I noticed the oven had been left on. We shut off the gas and have opened all the windows. There’s a smell. We know it as ethyl mercaptan. It’s a pretty strong odor, but it’s very strong on the first floor, and some has seeped up to the second. This is a huge house. It’ll need to get it checked out. So I’ve called HFD too. We’ll need an ambulance. There’s a man lying down in a room. He’s unconscious.”

Liz let out a long wail. “Oh no. Please God. There are kids. Baby girls. Check their room. On the second floor. Hurry.”

The man raced back upstairs. Liz paced outside the house, her mind racing as she waited.

The day before when she had had to go on her errand, she’d promised Sid that she could go with her. But the girl changed her mind at the last minute, and Liz left the house without thinking any more about it.

Soon the man came back downstairs. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone else in the house. I checked all of the bedrooms.”

Liz sighed in relief. “That’s good, but I don’t know where the girls could be. If their daddy was here, where are they? Why wouldn’t anyone call me and tell me that the girls aren’t here?” She explained that the lady of the house was out of town.

Soon an emergency vehicle siren could be heard wailing in the distance.

After a brief moment, a red Houston Fire Department vehicle pulled up in the driveway. Liz stood by in a daze and watched as two paramedics rolled a gurney into the house. A fireman was also with them. She wanted to run inside so bad. What if the girls had crawled into their parents’ bed to go to sleep like they were known to do? That would explain why the men hadn’t seen them in their own bedroom.

“Please check the master bedroom,” she called out. Too afraid to enter the house herself, she wrestled with a foreboding that something bad had happened. So she began to pray.

When Nate was wheeled from the house his eyes were closed. He looked asleep.

“Do you know, can you tell, how long that gas was on?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. But if his brain didn’t receive enough oxygen. . . anyway, we are taking him to Memorial Hermann The Woodlands. We need you to follow us. We’ll need some information.”

“Of course.”

Liz stood to her feet. She could barely think. But as she drove, Liz recalled all the conversations she’d heard between her employers while she’d been in their presence. She knew they did not have a very happy marriage. She knew that Nate was forced to sleep in another room and not with his wife.

“Maybe he was very unhappy. Maybe his wife is trying to leave him. Oh God, why is this happening?” She prayed that everything would work out and wondered how much she could disclose since she’d signed that nondisclosure agreement.

“What if these people fire me for telling their personal business?”

A few minutes before she reached the hospital, her phone rang.

“Mrs. Taylor. Oh, my God. You have to come to the Woodlands hospital right now. Your husband—”

“Liz, what’s going on?”

“The gas oven was left on at the house.”

“What? Why? Where are you?”

Liz explained where she was and everything that had happened since she got to the house.

“My goodness. I’m in Seattle . . . at a convention. I’ll have to catch the first flight out. How is my husband? Did you get to talk to him?”

“No, ma’am. H-he was unconscious.”

“What? Is he going to be all right?”

“I-I don’t know, ma’am. I just don’t know.”

Burgundy pressed her head into her chest with closed eyes. She hung up the phone and looked next to her. Ed was there in her hotel room. He was resting on the couch. They’d stayed up all night talking and didn’t fall asleep until a couple hours ago. It was around six-forty in the morning in Houston. Four-forty in Seattle.

Suddenly a gust of freezing cold air blew in her direction. Her teeth started chattering. Burgundy regretted that she did not wear an extra layer of clothing that would provide protection from the brutal elements. But it was too late. And even though she was fully clothed, she felt naked. Vulnerable. Her husband was in trouble and she was in a hotel room with another man. They’re weren’t doing anything but talking. So why did she feel so guilty? How did she get here?

It’s only after you’re in a jam that you think about the things you’ve done to put yourself there.

“I’m scared, Elm, so afraid.” She stood up and paced the floor with her bare feet and the perfect pedicure.

“What’s wrong?”

“My husband has been in an accident. And they’re taking him to the emergency room.”

“What happened?”

Burgundy explained what she knew to Ed.

“Why are you still here? You should be on the phone trying to find the first flight out.”

“I am. But I feel so frozen. Like my brain stopped functioning. I hate when I feel this way.”

“I see. You want me to help you.”

She nodded and closed her eyes.

Edmund took care of everything. He found a flight back to Houston for her. She rested on the bed as he placed phone calls. He knew she’d need to charter a private plane. Flying domestic out of Seattle that day would take hours.

“Burgundy, prices start at seventeen thousand.”

She nodded, got her purse, and handed him a credit card.

While Edmund made the arrangements, Burgundy sat so stiffly that it was like she no longer had a heart.

Soon Edmund was talking to her again.

“Don’t you want to pick up your cell?” he asked in between calls. “It’s ringing off the hook.”

She snapped to it and answered her phone.

“Hello?”

It was Liz.

“Mrs. Taylor. I’m sorry to tell you this, but . . . your husband died. They couldn’t save him.”

“What? Oh no!” She screamed and threw down the phone.

Burgundy did not hear as Liz went on. “And we can’t find Sid. No one knows where she is.”

* * *

When she finally landed in Houston, she took a car service that Edmund arranged to transport her so she wouldn’t have to worry about driving herself. Soon they were on the way to a hospital in The Woodlands.

Burgundy got escorted to the room in which her husband’s body lay. Burgundy slowly walked to his bedside. Nathaniel Taylor lay still. The room was so quiet it was eerie.

“I can’t believe you’re gone,” she said. “I wish this wasn’t happening. Talk to me, Nate. What happened?”

Before long the room began to fill up. Julianne, Nate’s sister, stormed into the room with her hands shoved inside her jacket.

“That’s two brothers I’ve lost,” she said. “My parents are gone. Now it’s just me.”

Burgundy hugged her. “We’re still family. That won’t change.”

They held each other up without saying another word. Alita and Dru showed up. But Coco and Elyse were missing from the gathering. No one noticed at first.

“Damn, I feel bad now for every negative thing I spoke about the man. I wouldn’t wish this on anybody,” Alita mumbled. She could barely stand it and left to go sit in the lobby.

“This is fucked up.” Her niece Natalia came to be with her.

“Where is Sid?” Alita asked.

Little Natalia hunched her shoulders.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I don’t know.”

“When did you last see your sister? You’re supposed to watch her at all times. That’s what big sisters do.”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Natalia cried.

“Think. Try to remember. What were y’all doing yesterday?”

“We got up. Took our bath. Ate our breakfast. We played with Liz. She got a phone call. And . . . and.”

“Think harder.”

“I can’t.” Natalia burst into tears. Alita realized she shouldn’t be pressuring a seven-year-old. Especially one that was usually accustomed to having things go her way.

Alita stood up. She walked back into Nate’s room.

“B, where is Sid at? Why isn’t she here with us?”

Burgundy looked confused. “Sid? I don’t know. Liz should know. Find Liz.”

The next few moments resulted in confusion, shouts, accusations, and threats. Burgundy decided to leave the hospital. She signed the necessary papers regarding Nate’s body then had Alita drive her all the way to The Woodlands. Natalia was in the car with them. Liz followed behind in her own vehicle.

But before they reached Burgundy’s house, she got a phone call.

“This is the Houston Fire Department,” a man said. “And a child who appears to be around four years old was found—” The man continued talking. After a while Burgundy stopped listening. She stared into space. She reached over and gripped Alita’s arm, pinching her skin until it was raw.

“They found Sid. They found her.”

“What? What do you mean found her? Is she all right?”

“They told me she had a seizure in her sleep.”

“But is she all right?”

“They found vomit in her mouth.”

“B, is Sid all right?”

“My baby is unconscious.”

* * *

There usually comes a moment in a person’s life when they question God.

Why?

That’s all I want to know. Why did you let this happen? Why didn’t you stop it?

Why, God, why?

And Burgundy knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she believed in God. In his existence. In his ability to provide, protect, and deliver people out of trouble. Moses was proof of that. And so was David. You can’t forget Daniel, who was trapped in that lion’s den. And there were many others.

But none resonated more than Job. The man who saw so much trouble that he despaired of life to the point of wishing himself dead.

And for a moment, Burgundy entertained morbid thoughts.

“Take me too, Lord. I don’t want to live anymore. I can’t imagine life beyond this. It hurts. God, it hurts.”

How could she even think past the horrible things that she’d just found out. It was like a bad dream, a cruel trick that someone had played on her.

But why?

She managed to pull herself together enough to allow the fire marshal to tell her what happened.

“We searched the entire house from top to bottom and we wanted to make sure we covered all our bases. And we did a second very thorough search. One of my men went into the family room.”

Burgundy nodded with a dazed look on her face.

“He pulled back furniture. That’s when he found the little girl. She was curled up into a little ball. Behind the huge sofa. Like she’d simply fallen asleep. But we assumed it was the carbon monoxide.”

“Hide and go seek,” Burgundy whispered.

“What?” Alita said.

“Sidnee prided herself on being better than everyone else at that game. She wanted to find a hiding place that no one could guess.”

“Oh, my baby,” Alita said. “My baby.”

No one could say anything.

All Burgundy could do at that point was deaden her emotions. She asked Alita to go to her medicine closet in her master bedroom.

“Bring me that bottle of sedatives. Get me a glass of water. I want to go to . . . go to sleep.”

Alita gave her a sharp look.

“I don’t know about that. We are driving right back to the hospital to see about your baby.”

“Lita, please . . . yes. Just help me to think, to move, to breathe..”

“I got you, Sis.”

* * *

Alita and Burgundy returned to the hospital. Sidnee Taylor was in a coma. There was no telling if or when she’d pull out of it.

More and more family members began to arrive, both at the hospital and at her house. Burgundy remained at her daughter’s side, wishing so bad that she could fall asleep. But she was too afraid.

But as the hours dragged on, she knew she had to snap out of it, collect herself, and be the strong woman that she knew she was.

She was able to lie down on a couch located in Sid’s room. She let Alita bring her some tea from the café. After she sipped from a cup, she allowed herself to feel again.

Aside from the comfort she received from being surrounded by loved ones, Burgundy struggled with other emotions. Shock, for one. Because in all her years of being a mother and a wife, and through all the things her family had been through, she never imagined that her husband would die so young, in his early forties, and that her youngest child would lapse into a coma on the same day.

What happened? Why would our oven be left on, and by whom? How long was it on?

She needed some answers. As she sat on the couch in the room that was so cold that her teeth chattered, Burgundy began to search within her mind.

Nate was in a normal state of mind when I left the house to go to the airport. We said our goodbyes like normal. He seemed fine. I was the one who was nervous. I knew Edmund was traveling to the same airport that I was.

Her train of thought was interrupted. “Nate was found in the guest bedroom,” she recalled Liz telling her.

She wondered about what might have happened during Nate’s last few hours of life.

She immediately fought with guilt.

“He shouldn’t have been banned from our bedroom. I just should have let him sleep with me every night. I should have—”

“B, give it up. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you did what you felt you had to do, sweetie,” Alita told her. “You didn’t know all this would happen.”

“I know. But I still feel like it’s all my fault.”

“No, mm-mm. Noooo. We are not about to do that. I mean it. I won’t allow you to blame yourself.” Alita’s voice was loud and clear. “That what us women have done so many times. We’ve taken the blame and pointed the fingers at ourselves and suffered over and over. Not this time. Please don’t, B. I think we all have had a hard time dealing with truth.” Alita laughed. “It’s so damned ugly that we don’t want to look truth in its face. And really, who could blame us? But we must learn to do better. Me, you, Coco, Dru, Elyse. All of us.”

Alita knew firsthand about doing better. Because recently, when Elyse came home very upset and told Alita some of what happened between Nate, Coco, and herself and how she tried to fight back in her own way, that’s the moment that Alita decided she could no longer hold it in. She had to reveal what needed to be known.

She took a deep breath and told Elyse that she indeed was her mother. Alita bravely told her the whole story. And Elyse felt shocked then ecstatic at the news. Her reaction caused Alita to feel humbled and thankful that the girl wasn’t angry. The young lady felt relieved to learn the true story about her existence.

With that in mind, Alita felt that it was a start. And that’s all that Burgundy needed. A new and better start for her present circumstances.

“Lita,” Burgundy finally replied. “I know we’re supposed to do better. I clearly hear what you’re saying and I agree with you, but it’s too damned hard. I feel too . . . frustrated at how everything has played out. I feel so, so angry.”

“. . . And you have a right to feel that way . . . for a minute. But after a while you gotta make a decision. You can pout and have a temper tantrum, or you can choose to change your attitude. Being mad won’t solve shit.”

As much as Burgundy wanted to argue, how could she?

“Lita, I never knew you could be so wise.”

“Oh, trust me, I got wise when I shut up and started to listen more.”

“Listen?”

“Listen to that good man that I got to meet and know and learn from.”

“Shade?”

“Yeah, your friend that you introduced me to last year is the wise one. He’s my anchor. He lets me see things through eyes that aren’t mine. And I’ve learned to listen to what my baby tells me, B.”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever done,” Burgundy told her with a grateful smile.

“I guess it is. Now don’t get me wrong. Sometimes I don’t listen, but most of the time I do. I’m glad when I do.”

The two sisters embraced. She wanted to take back previous harsh words, but then wasn’t the time to bring that up.

For now, Alita knew she had to be the stronger one of the two women. She’d never been through anything like this before in her life. Yet she couldn’t worry. She just had to be strong . . . for her family . . . and for herself.

When her youngest daughter’s eyes fluttered the next day, Burgundy felt like she wanted to collapse. The doctors examined Sidnee and cautiously predicted there’d be no long-term effects. After a while Sidnee could talk, eat, and move all her fingers and toes. Her vital signs looked good, and Burgundy felt more grateful than she’d ever felt in her entire life.

During the next day or so, Burgundy’s main focus was to plan a funeral. During the course of setting up the arrangements, she received a telephone call.

“I just want you to know that the coroner had recommended an autopsy on Nate.”

“Nate? Why?”

“Because scratches were found on his body. DNA was discovered underneath his fingernails.”

“Are you suggesting that there was a struggle or some type of fight before he died?”

“That’s what we need to find out.”

“But with whom?”

“We’re trying to find out, ma’am.”

“So is this an official investigation?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The police told her that he would need her whereabouts as well as other people who would have been inside the house that day.

“Even Natalia?”

“Yes.”

“She’s only seven.”

“We need to talk to her. Don’t worry. We’ll be gentle.”

“Oh, my God.” Burgundy was aghast. She wanted to protect her daughter, not subject her to a police investigation.

“We want to get any security tape that may have been rolling either inside or outside your estate for the past few days.”

Burgundy nearly lost her breath.

Did someone kill her husband? And if so, who?

* * *

Coco and Elyse were seated inside of her car. Coco had just gone to the post office. She always had a duplicate key to her sister’s PO box, and she went there to pick up and drop off packages. Elyse had remained inside the car while Coco took care of business. And now that she was back behind the driver’s seat, Coco’s brain felt twisted and tired.

“Why are you still working for them?”

“Because I am,” she stubbornly told Elyse. “No one knows that Nate fired me except you. And that’s how we’re going to keep things. No one has to know.”

“All right.”

With that matter settled, Coco tried to relax, but it was hard. The whole ordeal took a lot of out of her. Nate was dead. Burgundy was beyond distressed. And Sid would recover. But all Coco could think about was who would believe her story? Who would believe that the gas had been left on at the house and that Natalia was the one given the task to turn it off?

The truth was always hard to believe anyway. But to know that she had nothing to do with her brother-in-law’s death didn’t seem good enough. Her track record was bad. She was known for lying, for harboring secrets, for doing one foolish thing after another.

“Elyse.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to go on like normal, but I’m scared. I can’t think straight. I just want to die.”

“Don’t say dat. Don’t!”

“But he’s dead. B said the police will do an investigation. And they gone think I had something to do with it.”

“They might think I did it too, though.”

Coco stopped crying. She’d forgotten about that. What if the police arrested Elyse instead of her? That would be remarkable. But it would feel wrong. But what if it happened anyway? Police were known for sloppy work at times, and it wouldn’t be the first time they locked up the wrong person.

Coco thought hard. Her mind raced with all the possible ways this thing could end up. But the more she thought about it, the worse her breathing got. She was hyperventilating at one point, in great need of some oxygen.

“Breathe in, breathe out,” Elyse instructed her. “Take a deep breath. You know you got high blood pressure.”

“I know.”

“Then stop trying to make yourself sick.”

“It’s not like I’m doing this shit on purpose.”

“Calm down. You say you did not kill him.”

“I didn’t kill him. And you know it.”

“Then relax. If you tell the truth, then they’ll let you go.”

What Elyse said sounded good and logical, but Coco still wasn’t convinced. Bad things seemed to constantly swirl around her like an autumn wind. You could never see it or predict which direction it was going to come. But you could always feel it and see its effects.

“Damn it.” Coco took one hand and massaged her nostrils while she tried to control the gasps that threatened to take over. She looked out her car window. Her knees began to knock when she saw a police car drive by. It kept going, and Coco sighed in relief.

“I can’t take this shit,” she said.

“Calm down.”

“I can’t.”

“The good thing is that he’s gone. He can’t bother me or you anymore. He can’t hurt us ever again.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Coco said and waited. She waited for what would happen next.