Dead in the Family

ancient gray Chevy Chevette parked sort of unobtrusively at the rear, and I wondered if Miss Caroline had a round-the-clock caregiver.
    We walked up to the double front doors. Bill didn’t think it was appropriate (“seemly” was the word he used) to go to the back, and under the circumstances, I had to agree. Bill walked slowly and with effort. More than once I wanted to offer to carry the heavy Bible but I knew he wouldn’t let me, so I saved my breath.
    Halleigh answered the door, thank God. She was startled when she saw Bill, but she recovered her poise very quickly and greeted us.
    “Halleigh, Mr. Compton has brought the family Bible that Andy’s grandmother wants to see,” I said, in case Halleigh had gone temporarily blind and hadn’t noticed the huge volume. Halleigh was looking a little rough around the edges. Her brown hair was a mess, and her green flowered dress looked almost as tired as her eyes. Presumably, she’d come over to Miss Caroline’s after she’d worked all day teaching school. Halleigh was obviously pregnant, something Bill hadn’t known, I could tell by the fleeting expression on his face.
    “Oh,” Halleigh said, her face visibly relaxing with relief. “Mr. Compton, please come in. You have no idea how Miss Caroline’s fretted about this.” I think Halleigh’s reaction was a pretty good indicator of just how much Miss Caroline had fretted.
    We stepped into the entrance hall together. The wide flight of stairs was ahead of us and to our left. It curved gracefully up to the second floor. Lots of local brides had had their pictures made on this staircase. I had come down it in heels and a long dress when I’d been a stand-in for a sick bridesmaid at Halleigh and Andy’s wedding.
    “I think it would be real nice if Bill could give the Bible to Miss Caroline,” I said, before the pause could become awkward. “There’s a family connection.”
    Even Halleigh’s excellent manners faltered. “Oh . . . how interesting.” Her back stiffened, and I saw Bill appreciating the curve of her pregnancy. A faint smile curved his lips for a second. “I’m sure that would be just fine,” Halleigh said, rallying. “Let’s just go upstairs.”
    We went up the stairs after her, and I had to struggle with the impulse to put a hand under Bill’s elbow to help him a little. I would have to do something to help Bill. He obviously wasn’t getting any better. A little fear crept into my heart.
    We walked a little farther along the gallery to the door to the largest bedroom, which was open a discreet few inches. Halleigh stepped in ahead of us.
    “Sookie and Mr. Compton have brought the family Bible,” she said. “Miss Caroline, can he bring it in?”
    “Yes, of course, have him bring it,” said a weak voice, and Bill and I walked in.
    Miss Caroline was the queen of the room, no doubt about it. Andy and Portia were standing to the right of the bed, and they looked both worried and uneasy as Bill ushered me in. I noticed the absence of Portia’s husband, Glen. A middle-aged African-American woman was sitting in a chair to the left of the bed. She was wearing the bright, loose pants and cheerful tunic that nurses favored now. The pattern made her look as though she worked on a pediatric ward. However, in a room decorated in subdued peach and cream, the splash of color was welcome. The nurse was thin and tall, and wore an incredible wig that reminded me of a movie Cleopatra. She nodded to us as we came closer to the bed. Caroline Bellefleur, who looked like the steel magnolia she was, lay propped up on a dozen pillows in the four-poster bed. There were shadows of exhaustion under her old eyes, and her hands curled in wrinkled claws on the bedspread. But there was still a flicker of interest in her eyes as she looked at us.
    “Miss Stackhouse, Mr. Compton, I haven’t seen you since the big wedding,” she said with an obvious effort. Her voice was thin as paper.
    “That was a beautiful occasion, Mrs. Bellefleur,” Bill said with an almost equal effort. I only nodded. This was not my conversation to have.
    “Please take a seat,” the old woman said, and Bill pulled a chair up closer to her bed. I sat a couple of feet back.
    “Looks like that Bible is too big for me to handle now,” the ancient lady said, with a smile. “It was so nice of you to bring it over. I have sure been wanting to see it. Has it been in your attic? I know we don’t have much connection with the Comptons,