This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.
This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
Mark Stevens
Nurse and the Patient, Part 26
"I'm so glad you decided to come with us, Edith," Lance said to his grandmother.
The woman sitting beside him answered, "I couldn't make up my mind if I should go with you."
They were on their way back to the Wilson home. Lance was driving. Jonathan had the back seat to himself.
"I think you should be here," Jonathan spoke up.
"I agree," Lance said as he pulled off the main highway and made his way slowly along the long winding drive that stopped in front of a large colonial looking home.
Jonathan was remembering the telephone call they had received from Calen Wilson the day before. Lance had talked with the man on the telephone, and when the conversation had ended he said, "He's ready for us. Says he has everything he thinks we're looking for."
"You okay with this?"
Lance had nodded. "I am. I'm just so ready to discover who I really am."
"You know who you are."
"True. Still, I feel as if a big piece of me is missing, like a big puzzle."
The car stopped in front of the house, and Jonathan came back to the present. He reached across the seat and brushed his hand across Lance's shoulder. "You ready for this?" he asked quietly.
Lance shut the car's engine off. "I am," he answered.
Jonathan quickly got out of the car and opened the door for Edith Baxter.
The woman thanked him and looked at the house. "I have often wondered about the home where Carter grew up," she said softly.
"Now you can see where he lived," Lance said coming around the car and joining them.
The three walked slowly to the door. Lance rang the bell, and just like their previous visit, chimes could be heard sounding though out the house.
The door opened and once again they were face to face with Calen Wilson. This time he greeted them a bit more warmly.
"Good afternoon. Please come inside."
They stood inside the entry way and Lance introduced his grandmother to the man.
"Calen, this is Edith Baxter, my grandmother."
The man held out his hand toward her. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Baxter.
"Miss Baxter," Edith corrected him.
"Forgive me, Miss Baxter."
They followed him down the hall and into the same sitting room where they had been their last visit.
"May I get you something to drink?"
"I think we're good," Lance assured the man.
As they took a seat Jonathan looked across the room and discovered a closed trunk sitting next to the wall. It was the type of trunk people used a long time ago when they traveled, the kind that was used when perhaps crossing by water.
"Yes, that is the trunk that was stored in the attic. If I remember correctly, my mother paced the things away in it not long after Carter's death. They have been there all this time."
The three visitors watched as Calen Wilson walked over and slowly raised the lid.
"If you like, you may come over here and sit by the trunk. I think you will find a lot of interesting things inside."
Jonathan stood on one side of Edith and Lance on the other side, and together, the two led the old woman across the room.
"Have you looked in it yourself?" Jonathan asked.
Calen nodded. "I have.
Jonathan helped their host bring chairs over so they could sit around the trunk. They put one chair right in front. "You sit here," he directed Lance.
Jonathan and Edith sat close together and watched as Lance reached over and brought something out from the trunk.
"Oh." Lance was holding a picture frame. "She was beautiful," he said.
Everyone else in the room sat quietly. A few minutes later Lance passed the frame over to Edith.
She took it with trembling fingers. When she realized what she was looking at tears formed in her eyes. "Kathleen was just that. She was the most beautiful young girl I ever knew."
As Edith handed Kathleen Smyth's picture to Jonathan, Lance was pulling another frame from the trunk.
"My God," he whispered. "My God," he repeated softly.
Jonathan suddenly knew what was happening. Lance was seeing a picture of his mother and father together. He quickly stood to his feet. He walked over and leaning down, he placed his hands on Lance's shoulders. He looked at the picture.
Two smiling faces stared back at them, two people that simply glowed with love, not only in their eyes, but their faces as well.
A sob escaped Lance and his shoulders began to shake. When he could speak he said, "Look at the date on the back of this frame."
Jonathan took the picture and looked on the back. He read, "October 30th, 1975." Looking at Lance one again, he said, "Eight days before your father was killed."
"Please, may I see it?" Edith asked.
Jonathan quickly handed it to her.
"What a handsome couple," she said, and her words were so soft they could hardly be heard. "I remember Kathleen coming by the office and telling me they were going to have their pictures taken. She promised that I could have one."
"Then keep it," Lance spoke up.
"No, dear boy that is your picture to keep. It may well be the only picture you have of the two of them together."
"Then we will have copies made," Lance told her.
Lance came to a fairly large box and pulled it from the trunk. When he removed the lid, he discovered old photographs inside. He started to go through them and then changing his mind, he asked, "May I take these with me to look at?" He addressed his question to Calen.
"By all means," the man answered. "Everything in this trunk belongs to you. Even the trunk, if you want it," he added.
"I would like that. I will make arrangements to have someone come pick it up, if it all right with you, Sir."
Lance found lots of miscellaneous items that his father must have collected over the years. When he died, his mother, not knowing what else to do with them, must have decided to pack them away with all her memories as well.
Calen stood to his feet. "There is something else," he said. He walked across the room and returned with a book. As he handed it to Lance he said, "When I first saw this I wanted to read it; however I soon had second thoughts. It's not really mine to read. I think the pleasure belongs to you. This is your father's journal."
Lance's hands shook as he took the book from the man. His heart was beating so rapidly he could hear nothing except the loud drumming it was causing in his ears.
"Oh, Lance," Edith murmured. "What better gift could your father have given you than his journal?"
A tear flowed down Lance's cheek, and he quickly brushed it away with his hand. He said, "Calen, after I read this, you have my word, I will bring it back for you to read."
"I would appreciate that very much, Lance." Calen smiled at Edith. "It's easy to see where my brother got his good looks. There's no doubt in my mind that you are his mother."
"Thank you, Mr. Wilson," Edith said. "For allowing my two boys into your home, and especially for sharing all of these memories, I will forever be grateful."
"There has been so much sadness for both families. Yes, it was very hard on both my parents when Carter died. So hard in fact that neither one actually ever got over it. Even though my father lived for years after my brother's death, he was never the same. And then when he died my mother's mind seem to go over night." He looked at Edith and said, "Still I think when it comes down to it all, you gave up more than any of us."
"I loved my son very much," she said quietly.
"I'm sure you did."
Lance went to his grandmother. "Are you all right, Edith? We can go any time you like."
"I think I would like that. I suddenly feel very tired."
"Please, do what you need to do. Take care of your grandmother," Calen Wilson said. "In fact, if you like, I will arrange to have this trunk sent to you. Just give me your address."
"That would be great, Calen", Jonathan assured the man. He wrote Lance's address down on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
"You are okay with me taking these things?" Lanced asked.
"By all means, take what you want."
"I think I will take the box of pictures, the picture of my mother and father, and the journal. I promise when I am ready, I will bring the book back and you can read it."
"I appreciate that, Lance, I really do. Just promise to take your grandmother home and let her rest."
Both Jonathan and Lance promised and a few moments later they were in the car heading for Edith's home.
On the way back Edith turned in her seat and looked across at her grandson. "Would you do me a favor?"
"Anything, just name it," Lance answered.
"When we get to my house will the two of you come in? I really would love going through that box of pictures."
"Are you sure you're up to doing that?"
"I am," she assured him.
From the back seat Jonathan said, "I was thinking the same thing. About going through the pictures with you, I mean."
"I think that would be a great idea," Lance agreed. "After all, there may be several pictures in the box that only you, Edith, might know and can explain them."
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Once they were inside Edith Baxter's old fashion living room, they pulled the lid off the box and began sorting through the pictures. Some of them were faded with age, but most of them for the most part, were in fairly good condition. Jonathan watched as Lance went through the pictures. He was like an excited child opening gifts up on Christmas Day.
Lance picked up his father's journal. "You guys go head and search through the pictures," he told them. "I'm anxious to jump into reading this."
Some time later Jonathan and Edith were startled when Lance suddenly spoke saying, "Listen to this:
"May 18th. Started working for Smyth Oil Company Think I am going
to enjoy being with the company. Everyone I'm going to be working
with seems very nice."
"I remember the day he arrived on the job," Edith said. "Just like it was yesterday," she added softly.
Lance read another entry.
"May 25th. Met Kathleen Smyth today and what a knock out she is! She
seems very nice. She was having lunch with her father, old man Smyth".
Edith snorted. "`Old man' indeed. He was only forty years old when he died"
Jonathan grinned. "Well, after all, wasn't Carter only twenty or so when he wrote that? After all, Edith, to someone that young, forty would seem a bit old."
"Listen to this," Lance interrupted him.
"June 10th. I asked Kathleen out today, and she accepted. We're going
to a movie tomorrow evening."
"I remember that day," Edith said. "He came by my desk and told me he had asked her out. When she accepted, Carter was the happiest boy alive."
"It had to be hard on you, Edith, not to let him know who you really were," Jonathan remarked.
"It was hard," she agreed. Still, just to be able to be involved in his life, even if only as a friend, well, that did help to relieve some of the hurt I felt for having to do what I did when he was born."
Lance had read several more pages, and suddenly he cried out, "Listen to this:
"August 12th. I asked Kathleen to marry me. She said yes!"
"He was so happy," Edith said and sighed. "He came by my desk and told me. He said he wanted me at the wedding."
"Was Ronald Smyth happy about the fact his daughter was marrying someone she had only known for a couple months?" Jonathan asked.
"Told me himself he couldn't have picked a better fellow for Kathleen," Edith answered.
Jonathan and Lance both could tell how proud she was of that fact.
"In fact, about a week after the engagement was announced Ronald came by my desk and told me how he had big plans for Carter. It hadn't taken him long to discover Carter had a good business head on his shoulders, and that the boy was a born leader."
Lance read several more pages to himself, digesting the words slowly, trying to learn all he could about his father, a man he never knew.
"Oh my God, listen to this:
"October 18th. I received startling news today. Kathleen dropped by
work and asked if we could leave the building for a few minutes. I
took a walk with her. She told me she thought she might be pregnant.
She asked me if I was mad. How could I be mad? I love her with all
my heart. She's making an appointment with her doctor in the
morning."
"Obviously she was pregnant," Jonathan grinned.
"No shit."
"Ronald never knew about the pregnancy," Edith said. "I would imagine you are about to the end of the journal. Am I correct?"
"Looks as if there are just a few pages left," Lance said as he thumbed through the last few sheets of paper in the book. "Listen to this:
"October 19th. Kathleen went to the doctor today. She is pregnant. Not
sure how her father is going to take the news. She's decided not to say
anything for the time being."
Lance read more entries without making any comment. Then suddenly he exclaimed, "Damn, listen to this:
"November 4th. Kathleen and I have talked it over, and we've
decided to tell her father our news. I'm going hunting this
weekend with him and Samuel Thompson, a guy from
work. We plan on telling Mr. Smyth Monday evening."
"That's the last entry he made," Lance said softly as he closed the book.
"Because he never came back from that hunting trip," Edith spoke up. "Alive," she added.
Lance held the closed book in his hand. For a moment he held it remaining silent. Then he said, "Edith, I want you to keep this for now. I think you should have it."
"But the journal is yours," she said.
"It is," he agreed. "Yours as well," he added, "and I want you to keep it as long as you like."
Edith's eyes filled with tears and somehow she managed to give her grandson a weak smile. "You are such a dear boy. I love you so much. Both of you," she added glancing at Jonathan as well.
"We love you, too," Jonathan said."
"So tell me, Edith, do you think my grandfather ever had any idea I was on the way?"
"I don't believe he did," she said, sadness creeping into her voice. "At least he never mentioned anything to me about it."
"My poor mother," Lance sighed.
"Mother and father," Edith said. "The loved each other so much and I know Carter would have been a wonderful father to you."
"From the way it sounds, I would have to agree with Edith," Jonathan said.
"Even if I knew nothing at all about Carter Wilson, I would still believe he would have been a much better dad that the poor excuse Sam Thompson made trying to be something he was no good at."
"That's why I wish you would take the journal home with you, Lance. I knew your father. You, dear boy, are just learning about him and who he was."
"I'm sure I will learn more as time goes along," Lance assured his grandmother. "No, for now, I want you to have it. You deserve to know more about who he was, what he was, even his thoughts. After all, it doesn't matter what paper work says, you, Edith, you WERE his real mother. I'm not saying Mrs. Wilson didn't love him. I'm sure she did."
"Edith, I read a book one time called "No Greater Love"." Jonathan smiled tenderly at the old woman. "The story was about a mother and father and what they did to make sure their children survived a very bad accident. They gave their lives so their children could live. Well, to me, that says there could not be a love any greater than that, and what you did, all those years ago, well there couldn't have been a greater act of love than what you did for your son."
A tear made its way down Lance's cheek, but he didn't bother to wipe his face. Instead, he smiled and said, "I agree with Jon, and my one wish for you is that you can end all this, put it in the past, and together, the three of us can move on and make a life together. That means if you haven't already done so, you need to stop feeling guilty for anything you did fifty years ago. I feel sure my father has forgiven you, and I know I harbor no ill feelings toward you in any way."
"But because of me look at all of the lives that were affected. Everything could have turned out so much better."
"You can't be sure of that," Jonathan disagreed. "Besides, the past is finished, done, and there is nothing any of us can do to change it."
"Jon's right."
"I don't deserve you boys."
"Give us a few years and you might come to think you don't deserve us." Lance grinned and tried to lighten things up.
"Yeah, you will most likely want to rid yourself of us," Jonathan declared.
"Never, and the two of you can just hush up now before you make me really mad."
Lance turned to Jonathan and said, "I think she means it."
"You had best believe I mean it," she warned them. "And I can promise you this; you never want to mess with this old woman!"
Jonathan looked at Lance and grinned. "I think you have just been warned."
"You both have."
It seemed as if Edith Baxter was determined to have the last word!
End Part 26
Mark