Secrets of the Greek Revival Read online

  In the fall of 1932, two more patients were added in the ledger, and the monthly cost went up to $140. Over the next ten years, all the names changed except for Hilary Turner. Then, in 1945, the name Regina Piers was listed in the “Patient” column, and her age was recorded as fourteen. The name listed in the “Client” column was Jonathan Piers. A zero value was written in the “Paid” column.

  “He treated his own daughter?” Ellen murmured to herself. And where was the mother? Who was the mother?

  Then it hit her. Fourteen years before, Marcia Gold had died in childbirth. Regina Piers could very well have been Marcia’s baby.

  Ellen flipped through the few hundred pages remaining in the thick, dusty book. Although ink smears made some names difficult to discern in some rows, they were repeated often enough where she could make out what they were. All the names varied throughout the rest of the pages, with patients typically being treated for six months to one year before being released. Only Hilary Turner and Regina Piers remain listed through the duration of the years.

  Then in 1970, there was another listing that gave Ellen a shock: Cynthia Piers, age fourteen. Cynthia was the name the ghost had given Millie.

  Could this have been the ghost girl’s mother?

  Chapter Nine: Mothers

  Over the next two weeks, all efforts at making a decision over whether to buy the Gold House were stalled when Tanya’s mother unexpectedly passed away.

  Tanya told the story to Ellen and Sue: She had taken a pan of lasagna to her parents the day after the cleansing with the psychic. As they were eating at the table together, she and her parents had a pleasant time, even though Tanya’s mom kept asking her if she and her people were from the hills. Tanya just nodded instead of explaining. She had taken to heart what Jeanine had said: her mother’s soul was depending on a frail body and faulty brain, but the soul knew Tanya.

  Tanya’s mom also told her the same story about the new carpet three times, but instead of saying, “I know, Mom,” like she had in the past, she pretended like it was the first time she was hearing it. Each time her mother told the story, Tanya pretended, and it made the whole dinner together so much more pleasant.

  After they had finished eating, after her dad had insisted on putting away the dishes and cleaning up, Tanya, sitting alone at the table with her mother, took her mother’s hand, and said, “You can let go, Mom. I’ll be okay.”

  Tanya said that her mother had a flash of recognition—she could see it in her eyes. Her mother said, “Don’t cry, sweetie. It’ll be all right.”

  Even though her mother didn’t mention Tanya’s name, Tanya felt sure her mother knew to whom she was speaking.

  That night, Tanya’s mother passed in her sleep.

  The service was beautiful and well-attended, and, although Tanya was devastated over losing her mother, she said again and again that she was relieved for her father and relieved that her mother was finally at rest.

  The whole ordeal had a profound effect on Ellen. Her belief that the supernatural was just something willing believers embraced because it was easier than accepting a final death had now been officially shaken. Had Vivian’s spirit really come to tell Tanya to let her mother go? Normally, Ellen would say, no; it was a coincidence. But Ellen was no longer sure of her answer.

  Tanya’s mother’s loss also took a toll on Sue. Over lunch one day when it was just the two of them, Sue told Ellen that she knew she needed boundaries between her and her mother, but she feared it was too late to draw them.

  “This is my fault,” Sue said. “I should have done something about it in the early years of my marriage, but the truth is I get lonely, unlike you, who can go days without talking to a soul and with your head in a book. So it was convenient that my mother was always there.”

  “I can understand that,” Ellen said before taking a sip of tea.

  “So I think I have to pay the price of that convenience now, when I don’t feel like I need her as much.” Then she added, “And the truth is, maybe I need her more than I realize.”

  Although she understood Sue’s predicament, Ellen had one of her own, and it was the exact opposite of Sue’s. Ellen only spoke to her mother about once a month. And she only saw her a few times a year. This wouldn’t sound so bad if it weren’t for the fact that they lived in the same town.

  As much as Ellen teased Sue about her mother’s constant interference, Ellen had to admit she was jealous. The only time Ellen spoke to or saw her mother was when Ellen initiated it. Maybe it was time to go see her again.

  “So I guess we’re dropping the idea of buying the house?” Sue asked after a few minutes had passed.

  “Not dropping it. Just putting it on hold. It’s not like there are people knocking down doors to get to that place. It will still be there when Tanya’s ready to talk about it again.”

  “I didn’t find a single shred of information about the gold legend, by the way,” Sue said. “Did you?”

  “Nothing.” Ellen had done both an internet and library search and had come up empty.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter,” Sue said. “I really want that house.”

  “So do I.”

  That weekend, Ellen drove in the pouring rain to the other side of San Antonio, past the King William district, to her childhood home, where her mother lived. Her father had died of a heart attack ten years ago, and since then, her mother only left her home to go the grocery store. Although Ellen had a younger brother, he’d moved to Kentucky, to live near his wife’s family, and they only saw one another at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  Sometimes Ellen would be sitting at home in her reading chair after having just finished a book, and an overwhelming need to see her brother would seize her. Tears would flood her eyes, and she’d feel panicky, like if she didn’t see him, and tell him that she loved him, she would lose him forever. Over the years, she saw her brother in her sons. Little things they said and did—like a facial expression or a laugh—would remind her of him. Growing up, she had been more of a mother to Jody than their mother had, and she supposed it was a mother’s love for a son that she often felt for him. Maybe that panicky feeling was a fear that she had lost a son, her first son, and hadn’t been a proper “mother” by not staying in better touch with him as adults.

  “Oh, Jody,” she whispered now beneath the rhythmic beat of the windshield wipers. “I wonder how you’re doing these days.”

  He’d only been five that day they’d walked in on their mother and found her putting a razor blade to her wrist. Ellen had been ten years old, and she and Jody had come in from playing kickball with the neighbor kids on a hot summer day. Their dad was still at work. They’d come in hungry and thirsty and hoping for lunch when they found their mother in the bathroom sitting in front of her vanity with a cigarette propped between two shaky fingers and a razor blade between her thumb and ring finger. She held the blade against the skin beneath her left wrist. Their mother rarely smoked and never drank, but there were empty beer cans lining the vanity. She was wearing more makeup than usual—though mascara was streaming down her cheeks—and a silky robe Ellen had never seen. The radio was blasting, and it wasn’t even music—just some commercials.

  Ellen could remember the scene so vividly because her mother looked like a completely different person. She’d almost asked, “Who are you?” before finally recognizing that this shaking, sobbing, smoking woman was her very own mother.

  “Get out!” her mother hollered at them as soon as she had noticed them. “I’m busy right now!”

  “But we’re hungry!” Jody complained, too young to realize that something was terribly wrong.

  “Can’t you two open a can of raviolis? You need to start acting like big kids. You aren’t babies anymore.” Their mother burst into full-blown sobs.

  “Mama?” Ellen said gently. “What’s going on?”

  “Can’t I smoke a cigarette in peace? Just get out! Both of you go!”

  Her mother didn’t speak about the
incident again until six months later.

  It was after school before their father had come home from work. Because Jody was in kindergarten, and the lower grades were dismissed from school an hour earlier than the upper, he’d gotten home on the bus before Ellen, who was in fifth grade. She arrived to find her mother and brother sitting side by side in the front room on the sofa.

  “Come sit with me, Ellen,” her mother said as soon as Ellen had entered. “I need to talk to you.”

  Even at the age of ten, Ellen knew something was wrong. This wasn’t going to be a love fest. Her mother wasn’t that kind of person. This was going to be bad news.

  “Did someone die?” Ellen asked.

  Her mother smiled, “No sweetheart. Just sit down.”

  Ellen sat stiffly beside her mother, waiting for the ball to drop.

  “Do you remember that day last summer when you and Jody came into the bathroom and found me smoking and drinking? Remember how hard I was crying?”

  Ellen nodded.

  “It’s because I need to leave this world.”

  “Huh?” Ellen and Jody spoke at the same time.

  “Just listen. Some people don’t get along as well in this world as they do in the next. I’m one of those people. I had my babies and I got you this far, and although I love you both very much, I’m a terrible mother, I know I am, and you’d be better off without me.”

  Ellen couldn’t breathe.

  “I’m just not meant for this world. It’s too painful for me. You want your mama to be happy don’t you?”

  “Where are you going?” Jody asked.

  “To heaven,” their mother replied. “And I’ll be waiting for you there.”

  Ellen couldn’t speak.

  “No, Mama, I don’t want you to go!” Jody broke into tears. “Don’t leave us, Mama!”

  Their mother started crying, too. “I can take you with me, baby. Would you like to go to heaven?”

  Jody nodded.

  Ellen snapped to attention. “No!” She jumped to her feet and tugged Jody away, even though Jody kicked at her and screamed at her to leave him alone. Ellen managed to get him in her arms and out of the house. She ran next door and asked for help.

  To Ellen’s knowledge, nothing had ever been done about her mother’s suicidal tendencies. Maybe her parents kept things private, but that horrible day was never mentioned in front of her again. Ellen wasn’t sure if Jody even remembered it.

  But from that day on, Ellen would never leave Jody alone with their mother. And as she got older, she took him with her everywhere she went. Where her friends looked for every opportunity to get away from their younger siblings, Ellen did the opposite. She didn’t trust her mother. Not one bit.

  Her mother’s married name was Ima Frost. Every time Ellen overheard her mother introduce herself, Ellen had thought, “Yes, you are, Mother. You’re cold as ice.”

  The rain had stopped by the time Ellen arrived at her mother’s house. Ima greeted her at the door and invited her to come sit in the back room, where the television was always on, whether her mother was watching it or not. Ellen supposed her mother needed to be surrounded by noise.

  Ima turned down the volume on the television and offered Ellen something to drink. “I’ve got tea, milk, and water.”

  “No, thanks,” Ellen said.

  Her mother looked thinner and older since the last time Ellen had seen her, three months ago. The uncontrollable tremor in her head had gotten a little worse, too.

  “So how’ve you been?” Ellen asked sitting on the edge of the sofa, near her mother’s recliner.

  “I’m fine. How are you and Paul? And those grandkids of mine? Tell me what’s going on with Nolan, Lane, and Alison.”

  “Everyone’s fine.”

  Ellen told her a little about each of her kids and what they were up to—realizing that she hadn’t spoken to her own children in some time. A pang of nostalgia swept over her as she glanced at a framed collage of her babies on her mother’s entertainment center. Ellen had put it together for her mother years ago as a Christmas gift. “They’re all fine,” Ellen said again.

  And then she told her about Tanya’s mother.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” her mother said. “I guess I’m not too far behind her.”

  “Please don’t talk like that.”

  Her mother laughed. “Well, it’s true.”

  Ellen changed the subject by telling her about the adventure she hoped to go on with her friends, about buying and flipping a house. She told her about the Gold House.

  “A doctor by the name of Jonathan Piers used to practice the rest cure on female patients,” Ellen explained. “It all sounds so awful.”

  “Oh, I know about that place,” her mother said. “In the King William district?”

  “What? What do you know?”

  “Well, I went there once.”

  “As a patient?” Ellen’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets. Surely she would have recognized her mother’s name in the doctor’s ledger.

  “No, but I wanted to. Your father and I just went and toured the place and talked to the doctor during a free consultation. I really wanted to be admitted, but we couldn’t afford it.”

  Ellen covered her gaping mouth.

  “You were probably too young to remember this, but I had a nervous breakdown when I was in my thirties. It was a hard time.”

  Ellen didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I needed help and a neighbor recommended Dr. Piers.”

  “How did the neighbor hear about him?” Ellen asked.

  “She’d read about him in the paper. A famous actress had just been admitted—Willa Von Kempf. I think your dad was hoping he’d have a chance to see her. I think that’s why he was all for getting the free consultation.” Her mother laughed.

  “What was it like?”

  “It was really nice and fancy,” she said. “Brand new furnishings and finishes. The upstairs was kind of plain, but the doctor said it was to keep the patients from getting overstimulated by their surroundings. They were kept in a dark, quiet room, on strict bed rest. They weren’t even allowed to turn themselves.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right. Two nurses had to go around several times a day and turn the patients so they wouldn’t get bed sores.”

  Ellen wondered if she should tell her mom about the force-feeding through the rectum but decided not to.

  “I would have loved to escape to that place,” her mother said. “I was so overwhelmed with life, with everything. I needed to be a vegetable for a while.”

  “What was it that overwhelmed you?” Ellen asked bravely.

  “Oh, you don’t want to know,” her mother said. “And it was so long ago. It won’t do either one of us any good to talk about it.”

  Ellen dropped it, not wanting to make her mother uncomfortable, but her curiosity was piqued. She wondered if she should ask Jody if he knew anything. No, he was too young. Maybe Ellen’s Aunt Mary knew something.

  “And I guess it’s a good thing we couldn’t afford that place,” her mother added. “Because apparently, that doctor was having sex with his patients.”

  Ellen gaped again. “How do you know?”

  “The actress, Willa Von Kempf, exposed him. It was the late sixties, maybe early seventies. The actress got pregnant and brought criminal charges against the doctor.”

  “Was he indicted?”

  Her mother shook her head. “He committed suicide before he could be tried.”

  Chapter Ten: Murphy’s Law

  Two weeks after Tanya’s mother’s funeral, Tanya joined Ellen and Sue for lunch at Panera and surprised them by saying she wanted to buy the Gold House.

  “Are you serious?” Ellen covered her heart, not sure if she should let hope for the house bloom there again. She had just begun to come to terms with not moving forward on the purchase. It had been a gloomy two weeks because of it.

  “I need a distraction,�
� Tanya said.

  Ellen couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. She turned to Sue. “What about you? Still interested?”

  “Absolutely,” Sue said. “A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about that house.”

  “Me, too,” Ellen admitted. “If you’re sure, Tanya…”

  Tanya nodded. “It’s time for me to move on. I’m sure.”

  They all three met with Paul at Ellen’s house the next day to discuss an offer. Paul recommended that they go in at five thousand below the asking price. They agreed and Paul immediately got on the phone with Ronnie while Ellen opened a bottle of champagne. She hadn’t been this excited in ages.

  The celebration was cut short by the expression on Paul’s face as his conversation with the state’s realtor came to an end.

  “I’m sorry, ladies,” Paul said after ending his call. “According to Ronnie, the San Antonio Conservation Society submitted an offer last week, and the state accepted it. The house is no longer on the market.”

  Ellen’s head spun and her chest felt tight. Had she heard him correctly?

  “How can that be?” Sue asked. “Did Ronnie ever mention that there were other interested parties?”

  “Not at all,” Paul said. “In fact, the offer came to him unexpectedly. He’d tried to get the Conservation Society to buy the house ten years ago, but some kind of legal case prevented the sale.”

  “Are they beyond the cooling off period?” Tanya asked Paul.

  “I’m afraid so,” Paul said. “I asked Ronnie why he didn’t call me first, but he said, since he hadn’t heard from us in two weeks, he didn’t think we were interested. He’d been trying to get rid of this property for decades, so he jumped on it.”

  Ellen couldn’t stop the tears from welling in her eyes and dripping down her cheeks. Was this really happening? Had they really lost the house? She couldn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry,” Paul said again.

  Tanya covered her face with her hands. “This is my fault.”