We arrived at his father’s estate a few minutes past midnight.
“We’re here,” I opened my eyes at his light touch on my shoulder. I looked sleepily at him and then outside the car window. I then looked down at my body to find his suit covering me.
“You seem to be cold,” he said before stepping out of the car and walking towards the front door, leaving me to catch on.
“She’s the one?” a young lady said as Jude and I walked into the room where his father and sister, Jenner with the doctor were.
“Father,” Jude called, ignoring her and sitting on the bed near his father.
I stood in a corner while Jenner and the young lady’s eyes bore a hole through me. I mean, I could understand the strange lady staring at me but Jenner? I am your brother’s wife and we’ve seen each other a few times. I thought.
“It’s Jude, father,” he said in the most submissive voice I had ever heard and that made him seem like a totally different human. He had to be that way since his father had dementia.
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“Thomas?” his father asked, stretching his frail hands out to reach him and Jude held his palm.
“Yes, Father…” he looked over at me before looking back at his father. “It’s Thomas,”
“Where is she?”
I immediately knew he was asking about me but I acted clueless like I wasn't in the room with them.
“You shouldn’t speak too much, Mr Rivers,” the doctor said to him.
“Where is she?” he asked again, ignoring the doctor.
“Who?” Jude asked back and somehow, that kind of hurt my feelings. He knew exactly who he was asking but he acted surprised.
“Eleanor,” the look on Jude’s face was indifferent but I felt humbled regardless. I thought he was asking of me.
“Elizabeth,” Jude called in a low tone, stretching his hand out in the direction of the young lady from earlier.
Now, I was getting confused. Who is Eleanor? Who is Elizabeth? Same person? I said no words as I clutched onto his suit tighter, watching them all like a movie.
“Papa Jones. I told you not to call me Eleanor. I am Elizabeth,”
“You are Thomas’ wife, right?” Jude cleared his throat.
“Father,” Jude quickly chipped in, sparing awkward glances at me while Jenner scoffed severally. “Elizabeth…uhmm…Eleanor isn’t my wife. I didn't get married to Eleanor.”
“You didn't?” his father looked shocked and confused and then looked over at Elizabeth. “He didn't get married to you?” he asked her and she shook her head with a painful smile on her lips.
“Father. You were present at Jude’s wedding and you saw damn well he didn’t get married to Elizabeth or Eleanor or whatever. Drop the act!” Jenner said sternly from across the room.
“Jenner!” Jude cautioned his sister angrily.
Ooff… family drama. I internally facepalmed, watching them all, feeling like an outcast.
“If I may be excused,” the doctor said, walking out of the room. I was going to go with him when Jude called me.
“Here is my wife, father,” he announced as I was trying to figure out if I wanted to walk out of the room or stay back.
There was something about the way he said “my wife” that ignited something within me. It was different and I felt different.
Like a child, I obeyed him and walked closer to the bedside. His father looked up from the bed at my face and slowly, a smile appeared on his face.
“Oh, darling,” he stretched his hands out and Jude excused by getting up so I could sit. As I sat by him, he cupped my cheeks with his old, frail hands and a smile played on my lips.
“How beautiful. You look like my late wife,”
“Okay. Enough, father. She looks nothing like Mother!” Jenner chipped in.
“Is your name Amelia?” he asked.
“My name isn’t Amelia but I could be that for you, Father,” I smiled at him and his smile broadened as he stared endearingly at my face.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Papa Jones, I was your Amelia!” Elizabeth said angrily and somehow, I didn't get the reason for her anger. “I have always been your Amelia since Jude and I were young!”
Jude’s father slowly turned his head to look at Elizabeth and he creased his wrinkled forehead. “Who are you?” he asked and Elizabeth scoffed before storming out of the room.
“I will check on her,” Jenner said with a mocking smile before walking out of the room as well.
“So, Amelia. Do you love my son?” he asked. “By my son, I do not mean the Asian young lad. Haha,” he chuckled and I smiled.
“That was a funny joke, father,” I said, massaging his hand.
“Could you stay with him, Wendy? I need to receive this call,” Jude said and I nodded.
I stared at his old, frail body, adjusting well on the bed with a broad smile on his face. He was staring blankly at the ceiling.
“What does your wife look like?” I tried to start a conversation while my hands were still massaging his hands.
“A ray of sunlight, glistening in glory and appearing majestic! Oh dear, Amelia,”
“Oh, she’s Amelia?” I asked as though its news to me and he nodded before his eyes started closing up slowly and the smile on his lips slowly faded off.
“Your description of her is impeccable,” I commended but got no response.
“Father,” I called but there was no response.
My heartbeat sped as I slowly lowered my head to his chest and there was no heartbeat.
He was dead. In the absence of his children. To meet his dear Amelia.
