"I promise you," he began, "I'll give you a home and all that goes with it. . . ."
"Home? I don't understand, Tony. I have a home .
"From what I already know about you, you adapt quickly. I' suspect in the long run you will soon be more Bostonian than I myself am, and I was born here." He started to laugh, but stopped, his face hardening as his lips curled. "But I want no hillbilly relatives of yours showing up, not ever.. . ."
"Hillbilly relatives?" I hope he didn't mean Iruke. "What are you saying, Tony? You're frightening me."
He blinked quickly, as though he were waking up from a dream right before my eyes. Then he shook his head.
"Tony? Are you all right?"
"What? Oh yes. I'm sorry . . I was in deep thought. Well, I must get downstairs and tend to a few business matters," he said, "Ryse will be up to take care of your tray," he added, and rushed out of the room.
My heart was pounding. What was wrong with him this morning? Was he having some kind of reaction to what he had done, helping to bathe and to dress me? I was happy when Rye Whiskey appeared, although he didn't look his happy self.
"How are ya this mornin', Miss Annie?"
"I'm feeling a great deal stronger, Rye, thank you." He took the tray and looked like he was going to rush out of the room, too. "Is everything all right with Mr. Tatterton, Rye?"
"He looks all right. He's workin' in his office."
"He said the strangest things to me just before, and for a few moments he acted as though he didn't even know it was me."
"Maybe he was jes' havin' a dream," he said. "When peoples gets to be his age, they're often confused when they first gets up in the mornin'."
"He had already been up some time. And as for age, you're older than Tony, Rye, and you don't get confused, in the morning, do you?"
"Yes, ma'am, sometimes I does. 'Specially after last night." I stared at him.
"Last night? Why?" He seemed reluctant to speak. "What's wrong, Rye? Please tell me."
"Old Rye don't speak outa turn, Miss Annie, but are ya stayin' much longer?"
"Not much. I'm getting better quickly."
"Dat's good. The old ghosts been riled up somethin' terrible. I heard them wanderin' about all night last night."
"Oh. The old ghosts?" I smiled.
"Jes' the same, Miss Annie, I hopes you get better fast and gets back to your own home now. Not that old Rye don't want'cha here. You brings back the best memories ta me. I jes' don't want ya haunted none."
"Well, I'll keep my eyes open, Rye." He nodded. I couldn't make him laugh about it. Ghosts and spirits were things he took seriously. He nodded and left with the tray.
To get my mind off these things, I went back to my painting. Perhaps because of my regained strength and new hopeful outlook about myself, I felt like adding color to the work. I concentrated on the trees and foliage in the monument's background and then I found the brightest green for the grass. I made the sky azure blue instead of storm gray. I worked on everything in the picture except the man at the monument.
Sometime, just after lunch, Drake arrived. He came charging into the room like a man hurrying to catch a train and quickly kissed me on the cheek. Ever since he had started working for Tony, he had taken on this frantic pace. It was as if his whole life were fixed on a schedule. I sensed that he had planned out just how much time he would spend with me, and when the gold watch Tony had recently given him announced the hour, he would leave no matter what. Drake seemed so changed, so much more a stranger. I could only hope it wasn't true of Luke as well, that when he finally arrived, I wouldn't find him radically different. That was my biggest fear.
Apparently, no one had told Drake about my improvement.
"You mean no one told you all that has happened? Mrs. Broadfield practically poisoning me to get her way, Tony firing her, my recovery!" I cried in astonishment.
"Well, I haven't seen Tony yet. I just rushed right in and up here. But you tell me. What did the nurse do?"
I described it all quickly. Drake sat back, shaking his head.
"I was never crazy about her, but she came so highly recommended. It just shows you how hard it is to find competent good people out there. I'm finding the same thing in business. I'm doing some hiring, too, you know." He paused and stared at me a moment. Then he smiled. "You do look different, excited, stronger. Now what's this about a recovery?"
"I stood up . . . on my own!" I cried, impatient with his complacency.