Her name was Sarah; Sarah Marie Cooke. Everyone called her Sugar. I never figured that one out. She was not a sweet lady. OH, to the contrary, it seemed as though she hated almost everyone. Well, everyone except her nephew Bartholomew. With that name you might expect him to be called Bart; he was actually called Deuce. No one ever spoke of why that name was chosen. It was, and you had to accept it.
Sugar married once. She was a stunningly beautiful woman in her youth. As she got older her beauty did not fade, it matured. She had character; that's what everyone said.
Deuce was a brilliant man, he was incredibly handsome but he never dated either. He stopped to visit Sugar each week on Wednesday evening and Saturday morning. Wednesday was simply a social visit. Saturday mornings were spent doing maintenance on Sugar's estate. She liked to call it an estate; in reality it was less than 1 acre. The lawn was cared for; if the outside weather allowed then painting or repairs were completed. If the weather was bad he worked inside, doing whatever needed to be done.
Promptly at 11:30 Sugar would call out to him and the work stopped. At noon they sat down to lunch and then did her weekly shopping in the early afternoon. Then there was a rest time while they would each read a favorite book as a favorite selection of classical music played softly in the background. Exactly at 5 they would leave for dinner at their favorite place.
No one ever understood why they ate every week at Sam's Salty Dog Bar and grill. The place was a filthy dive, the food was terrible, the service was worse and the food prices were enough to drive a rich man into shock. Even looking at those facts, they did go there every week.
Their routine started on the week after he turned 18 and continued for almost 21 years until her death. Sugar was the first of her parents 14 children. Deuce was the youngest child of the youngest daughter.
The last car she ever bought was a 1965 Oldsmobile, that beast was a boat. It was long enough that Sugar claimed it took up 2 zip codes when parked. She threw the comment out as fact, no emotion behind it at all. The week before she died the odometer went over 75.000 miles. Only 2 people ever drove it any more; they were Deuce and her mechanic.
At the end of their Saturday and Wednesday evenings he would quietly wait downstairs as she prepared for bed. When she was ready he would give her a kiss on her left cheek, straighten her blanket and walk out of the house to go home; promptly at 9.
I suppose the strict routine was a comfort to the older woman in some way. They never talked about it and the routine never varied by much more than a minute at anytime.
Sugar had been married early in her life; the week after she turned 18. He was a banker and much older than she. He died at his desk at 5 on a Friday evening. When he varied from his routine and was not home by 5:25 that evening she called the bank and asked that he be looked in on. No one ever saw her grieve for him. She wore a dark black dress and veil for a year afterward. On the first anniversary of his death she changed her attire to long gray dresses and listed his bank and the mansion they lived in for sale. She moved out that day and into the only other house she lived in her adult life.
The art and antiques, including most of the furniture, all went to auction. She invested her money wisely and never had to work a day in her life.
Sugar died the second week in November. She simply went to sleep and never woke up. Less than 20 attended the services, they included the owner of Sam's, her accountant, Deuce and a small collection of persons who thought there might be a meal in it or were just curious about the old woman. There was also the drunk who lived under the back stairs into the church.
All of her siblings had passed years ago; her nieces and nephews could not care about the eccentric old woman. Her will was read and settled within the week. There was a generous donation to an animal rescue association; the rest went to Deuce.
Deuce had always rented a small furnished efficiency apartment. After being awarded the house he saw no need to spend any more money on the apartment and moved to the house.
He thoroughly cleaned the house from top to bottom, paying close attention to her room. The linens on the bed were changed to fresh ones, her bathroom towels and washcloths were all replaced with clean ones and the door was closed and locked.
The house had a comfortable feeling to it, but after the first week he noticed there was something not right at times. In the evenings there was a distinctly cold feeling in the areas she would have been when she was alive, after 9 the feeling was gone for the night.
One evening he was passing her bedroom at 9:05 and swore her heard a light moan inside the door. He called out "Who is there?" The noise stopped; he was almost positive he heard a slight rustle of bed linens.
The next evening he heard the same noises but he did not call out. Finally one evening he had the key and when the noises started he silently opened the door. The moon was shining in on the bed; he was certain he saw a lump in the blanket. "Sugar, are you here?" There was no response.
"Sugar, if you are here please answer me!" He thought he might be loosing his mind.
The next evening the same routine happened.
The third evening he called out from the hall "I can hear you Sugar. I miss you something awful. Please talk to me." Then he entered the room to find complete quiet.
He didn't leave the room the night as he did the previous times. Finally he heard a soft sob from the direction of the bed.
"It will be all right, just tell me what I can do for you."
No further replies were heard the evening.
"I will respect your privacy, if you wish to talk please come and see me in my room." As he left the room he heard soft sobbing. Part of it was he.
The next week in the middle of the night he awoke to a slight glow in his room. It was mostly a soft iridescent pink sort of color. Sometimes it was almost bluish.
He remained silent and watched with his eyes almost shut. A womanly figure slowly appeared in the corner of his room. The figure came over to his bed and silently stood watch over him, almost as if it wished it could touch him.
Over the next week the figure became bolder and got closer and closer, until she would sit on the bed for a while.
After 2 weeks of visitations he watched as the figure turned to leave after visiting. Deuce softy sighed and the figure paused as if afraid to move. Deuce softly whispered "Sugar?"
The figure started to get dimmer as if trying to leave.
"Please!" he paused, "Thank you for coming to check on me. I still love you"
