The Rearranging of Grandmother Emmaline

By Sabra Kiani

Why was the home of a young couple with a seven-year-old boy invaded by the police, the house searched without a warrant, and the mother taken away in handcuffs with no explanation?
How did Emmaline Raleigh, head of Raleigh Corp. and self-styled arbiter of class, end up forced to serve in a homeless shelter as partial repayment for the defamation of character and false arrest of her own unacknowledged daughter-in-law?
Why was an ancient temple piece, the opposite of one being studied in the museum and a precious gift from her deceased husband, stolen from the Raleigh home?
How did an intelligent and curious little boy happen to notice something, which he reported to a most unusual butler, that would ultimately free his mother?
Who would have expected that the unusual combination of a young mother, her seven-year-old son, her retired and ill high-school teacher father, his butler turned companion, and the director of antiquities of the city museum would be instrumental in setting up an education program for homeless children as well as being the cause of the arrest of an international thief?
Will these unusual occurrences lead to a mutually satisfactory end?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Apr 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466917248

Sabra Kiani

She is trained in psychology, has experience in hospitals both as a nursing assistant and as an administrator. The mother of five, she has suffered misscarriage as well as the death of a child at birth. At present, she teaches children to read in a village in South America.

Book preview

Prologue

E dward, I still don’t understand why you married that girl. Was she pregnant? If she was it would have been better and easier to have paid her off than to have been forced to marry her.

No, mother, I wasn’t forced and she wasn’t pregnant, you know she wasn’t. We didn’t even have Timmy for a year after we married. I don’t know why I try to explain anything to you. Belinda is my wife whom I love; whom I chose; whom I married—for which I will be grateful till my dying day.

Edward. I don’t understand you. She’s River Run trash, not fit to be a Raleigh—and not fit to be the mother of my grandson.

"Oh, so now you admit you have a grandson? That’s a first! Now that father’s died do you need to establish your ownership of the family line? After all he is a son—and a Raleigh. I don’t understand you, mother. You used to be a nice person, even loving sometimes. You should have been more like Dad. You’re so stiff necked about what you call ‘class’ that you can’t see how the world has changed—times have changed—for the better I might add."

Don’t try to push your free thinking ideas on me Edward. You know your father thought the same about this. I’m just trying to uphold his wishes.

Now I understand. You don’t hate my wife and son—you believe father did; so you have to follow along to keep faith with his ghost, is that it? I’ll let you in on a little secret, father came to our wedding without telling you because he knew you were unbendable but he didn’t want to hurt you.

How dare you say such things of your father to me! I want you to leave this house at once—and don’t come back till you come to your senses!

Oh, believe me, I’m already gone. Goodbye, mother, someday you’re going to wake up and realize what you’ve deprived yourself of.

That was the last conversation between Mother; Mrs. Randolph (Emmaline) Raleigh and Son; Edward (Ned) Raleigh, husband of Belinda and father of Timothy, now age 7, until finally one day Emmaline did wake up and realize she was all alone but for the servants, and of course one doesn’t make friends of them . . . .

Emmaline Burchard was married to Randolph Raleigh in June of 1976 in a gala society wedding as the Raleighs were the crème de la crème of Atlanta society. After the honeymoon, they moved into the Raleigh estate some distance from Atlanta.

Emmaline came from a less prominent but still socially acceptable family and Randolph loved her. As Randolph’s wife Emmaline felt it her duty to be a shining example of the ‘upper class’. Randolph, of course, was always correct; having been bred to effortlessly do the right thing—but with care and concern. For Emmaline, social propriety was something she worked at ceaselessly to the frequent but gentle amusement of her husband. Edward Randolph Raleigh was born in 1978 to the great joy of his parents. Emmaline wanted to be the mother of the perfect Raleigh line; Randolph just wanted a son to raise and enjoy. In this slightly confusing atmosphere Ned grew to be a polished young man but one who, thanks to his father, thought for himself. When he met and got to know Belinda Bolton in college he decided, She’s going to be my wife. Belinda agreed and the fireworks began.

Randolph was delighted. Belinda was an honor student, bright and lovely and, he thought, just right for his son. Emmaline, however, could only see that ‘that girl’ was from River Run—clearly of a lower social class—so she refused to have any part of this unsuitable marriage. As a result, Ned and Belinda, with secret support from Randolph, were married in a quiet ceremony (true friends only) in a small church far away from the Raleigh home. They settled in Atlanta where Ned worked as a photo-journalist for a national magazine and Belinda worked in the archives of the museum until Timothy was born in 2000 when she became a stay-at-home-mom who sometime did special work for the museum. Timothy grew up in this milieu and was always allowed to follow his curiosity; his primary rules were courtesy, personal responsibility, and concern for the feelings of others.

Chapter 1

Family Matters

D addy, its Sunday, is the zoo open today? called Timmy.

It was Mommy who answered from the kitchen, Dad’s out in the garden, dear. Did you want to go to the zoo today?

Is it open on Sunday because I really do want to go there? Mrs. Wilson told us about a new baby koala bear that’s just arrived from Aus . . . , Aus . . . , you know Mom.

Mom laughed and tousled her son’s hair, Australia Timmy, did she tell you where that is?

Timmy answered, Australia is on the other side of the globe from us—can we go, Mommy. I’ll bet you’d love to see a cute little baby bear too.

Yes, as a matter of fact I would, said Mom as Dad came in the door from the garden asking, What would you, Mrs. Raleigh? Did I hear something about the zoo? I was just thinking that would be a nice place to go this afternoon, what do you both think?

Timmy was delighted and ran to hug his dad. Really, can we go to see the baby koala bear from Aus . . . Australia?

That is exactly what happened on that Sunday. Timmy was thrilled with the tiny baby koala and asked, Mom, why does the mama keep the baby tucked into her tummy pocket like that. Is she afraid he’ll fall down?

Mom answered, No, son, she loves him very much and wants him to know that he’ll always be safe with her. That’s why Daddy and I always want to know where you are; because we love you and want you to know we’ll always keep you safe.

Timmy liked that idea, Why doesn’t Grandmother Emmaline want to know how I am and if I’m safe? My granny Bolton did; don’t all grandmothers feel the same way as parents?

I guess I’d better answer this, said Dad. Timmy, do you remember Mommy telling you that everyone has their own feelings about things and we have to respect their feelings. Your grandmother was not very happy when your mommy and I got married . . . .

Timmy interrupted, Why not? You and Mommy love each other—even I know that and I’m just a little boy. And you love me too so Grandmother Emmaline should be nicer and love us all and let us come to visit.

Whoa, son, said Mommy, Remember we respect peoples choices even if we don’t agree with them. Your grandmother Raleigh didn’t know me or my family and I guess she felt like Daddy was marrying a stranger so she was unhappy about it.

Then she doesn’t know about letting people make their own choices. She’s not being very nice. Timmy declared.

Maybe not, Timmy, maybe she didn’t have a mommy like yours to help her understand about things like that so we shouldn’t get mad at her for things she doesn’t know, should we? asked daddy.

Timmy frowned but he could see that Daddy was right. O.K., can we go see the giraffe now?

Mommy and Daddy each took one of his hands and swung him down the path, laughing.

In Grandmother Emmaline’s house things were not quite as happy.

Lucinda, it’s Emmaline Raleigh, I’m planning a bridge luncheon for Thursday and I would like you to join us.

Lucinda Walters wasn’t busy on Thursday but she really didn’t want to listen to Emmaline’s ongoing tirade against ‘those pushy lower classes’ or whatever else she was against these days. She knew who Emmaline was angry about; it was her own son—still! Well, Lucinda was about to become the mother-in-law of a lovely girl from Spain—the daughter of a metal worker—whom her son had met when he was there on sabbatical and corresponded with till she said Yes. If Emmaline heard about it, she, Lucinda, would be the next topic of gossip.

Oh, I’m so sorry Emmaline, Rosalie Johnson and I had planed to leave for a major shopping trip on Thursday. We’ll be in Atlanta for a couple of days.

As soon as Lucinda hung up she called Rosalie, Rosalie, you and I are going to Atlanta on Thursday to shop. I’m going to need a new dress for Richard’s wedding. Do say you’ll come—and by the way, if Emmaline calls, tell her we planned the trip ages ago—but don’t tell her about the wedding.

Rosalie laughed, Avoiding Mistress Nasty Mouth, are we? All right, count on me—for the proper answer and the trip.

Emmaline made several more calls with negative results. That seemed to be happening to her quite often lately and she was feeling more and more lonely. She called Annie, the housekeeper, Annie, cancel the plans for Thursday Brunch. I feel a migraine coming on and I’m sure I won’t be up to entertaining by Thursday. These things usually take more than a few days to pass.

In the kitchen, Annie relayed the message to the rest of the staff, The madam says no brunch on Thursday. I’m beginning to feel sorry for her. She doesn’t seem to have any more friends.

Justine, Emmaline’s maid answered, I don’t feel a bit sorry for her. She is so mean-mouthed to everyone and she treats us like dirt under her feet.

That’s the way she was raised, I was too. Here in the South, class has always been a big issue. said George, the butler, who had been in the household longer than any others of the staff. When the master was alive she was a much nicer person—class conscious but still nicer. The thing that makes me sad is that she doesn’t see her son anymore and she has never seen his wife and child.

Belle, the cook, had a word more to say before she went back to planning lunch for one, It seems to me that their family should be the most important thing in a person’s life; without them, most of us wouldn’t have nothin’ at all. Too bad she don’t know that.

The rest of the staff went about their duties, each with their own thoughts and opinions about ‘the Mistress’ and her problems.

At abut the time when her husband’s mother was the subject of conversation ‘below stairs’, Belinda was talking to her husband about the same person, Ned, don’t you think it’s time for Timmy to meet his grandmother? I know how she feels about me but I don’t have to go. I understand she has pretty stiff class standards and I just don’t fit into her plan but she and Timmy need to get to know each other. Timmy is your son so she can’t completely refuse him, can she?

Ned, looked down, remembering his last conversation with his mother, Honey, she ordered me out. That doesn’t sound like something that leaves a door open for later invitations—and I don’t want you exposed to that rancor. I know Timmy wants a grandmother and since your mom died there aren’t any others out there for him that I know of. He’ll just have to accept your dad as the only grandparent he has.

Timmy, who had heard the end of this conversation as he came down the stairs, came in the room and asked, Why doesn’t my grandma want to see me? I never did anything bad to her. Everybody in my class has a grandma and I want one too—especially when there really is one just across the river. Do you think if I wrote her a letter she would like that? We’re just learning about letters in class.

After his long speech, Timmy took a deep breath and looked at his parents with beseeching eyes. His dad looked sad but Mommy began to laugh, he wasn’t sure why.

I think a letter to grandma would be a perfect thing, don’t you, Ned? We wouldn’t be the ones bringing it up and she might just react to an ardent plea from a little boy who is also the last of the line of Raleighs.

Ned looked at his loving wife and realized that this could be the key to open his mother’s heart. "All right young man! Letter it is! Let’s go and get some paper and whatever you want to write with.’

Timmy, now very excited, I’ll get my crayons. I want my letter to be really beautiful. He ran off for his materials, Here I come, Daddy! Let’s write!

Mom and Dad and Timmy sat at the dining room table while this most important message was planned and executed for someone who had been missing from one of their lives for a long time, and from the others, forever.

Timmy began, Dear Grandma.

Mom interrupted, Timmy, since you don’t know her yet perhaps you’d better begin with ‘Dear Grandmother’ it’s more respectful

Ned agreed. He knew his mother was a stickler for respect.

Timmy continued, Dear grandmother; Mom, does Grandmother begin with a capital letter?

In this case, I think that’s a very good idea, answered Belinda, What’s next, dear heart?

How about; I love you and I want to see you. Would that be all right? Timmy was very excited and couldn’t wait for the letter to be finished so he could send it—and get an answer.

Ned wasn’t so sure about that part, Timmy, I don’t think it’s proper to tell someone you don’t even know that you love them, do you?

Timmy was distressed, But she’s my grandmother. I loved Granny Bolton, and you should love your grandmother, shouldn’t you?

Belinda put her arms around her beloved son and looked over his shoulder at his father, That’s absolutely right! You should love your grandmother and I think it wouldn’t hurt for her to know that you feel that way. You write whatever you feel, Sweetie. If it comes from your heart it might just open up someone else’s.

Timmy wasn’t sure what his mother meant but he was sure he wanted to write a lot of good things to the person he wanted to be his real grandmother as soon as possible.

Ned got the message Belinda was sending him and decided that there was nothing to lose and maybe everything to gain so he agreed. Go to it my boy; get that letter ready for your grandmother.

After many false starts and many more mistakes, Timmy wrote the final copy of the letter in multicolor crayons, So it will be beautiful and bright and make her happy.

The letter read as follows:

Dear grandmother,

I love you and I want to see you. Don’t you want to see me too?

My mommy says I must be polite to you, and be a very good boy when I come to see you. I know my mommy and daddy would like to see you too, would you like to see them?

All the children in my class have grandmothers and that makes them very happy. I would like to be happy with a grandmother too.

Love from your grandson, Timothy Raleigh

I used the colors to make you happy.

Ned and Belinda smiled fondly at the letter and their special son. Then they found an envelope and addressed the colorful missive. Timmy put on the stamp and carried the precious message to the mailbox. When he came back they all sat down with ice cream to celebrate; Timmy excited, Belinda hopeful and Ned doubtful. Only time would tell how well this special letter would be received.

Five days after the letter was dropped in the mail box, it arrived at the Raleigh house. George put it on a small silver tray and carried it upstairs to the Mistress’ sitting room. He recognized the return address but not the name of the sender so he was very curious. After he delivered the letter he waited hoping to hear what it contained.

Emmaline also recognized the address and realized that the sender must be Edward’s son. She saw that George was still standing there, What are you waiting for, George?

George, recognizing dismissal said, "Is there to be any answer, Madam?’

Emmaline, eager to open the letter but unwilling to do so in front of anyone said, How do I know if I have an answer when you won’t even go so I can read it. Get out!

She began tearing the envelope open as George walked out the door wondering who had sent it for the boy.

Emmaline ripped the envelope open and a paper covered with different colored words fell out onto the floor. She bent to pick it up then sat down to see what this strange note contained.

In bright turquoise it said, Dear Grandmother. She took a deep breath. This had to be from her grandson, what was his name? Timothy, that was it, not a family name at all—at least not in either her or her husband’s families. It must have been that girl’s idea.

She continued, in orange it said, I love you . . . How strange, he had never met her, how could he say he loved her. Someone must have put that in his head—maybe Edward? Maybe not, possibly it was that girl trying to make points.

Reading on she saw in red, . . . I would like to see you. Wouldn’t you like to see me too? Would she? She thought of Edward at that age and remembered how busy and active he was, always into something. No, she didn’t want a small hyperactive busybody getting into her things and spoiling her quiet life. Then she realized that her quiet life had gradually become too quiet and she was very lonely.

What else did the boy have to say? Yellow letters spelled out My mommy says I must be polite to you and be a very good boy when I come to see you. Next in green it said, I know my mommy and daddy would like to see you too. Would you like to see them? So they expect me to just open the doors to them after all this time. Edward has never called or written to me in six years.

Irritated she read the blue portion of the letter, All the children in my class have grandmothers and that makes them very happy. I would like to be happy with a grandmother too.

I wonder if he used blue here because he was sad about not having a grandmother. No that’s silly! He probably doesn’t have any idea of the meaning of colors. Doesn’t that girl have a mother that could grandmother him? Oh, yes, I remember reading that she died not too long ago.

Finally the letter ended in bright pink, Love from your grandson, Timothy Raleigh. A little yellow note at the bottom said, I used the colors to make you happy."

What a strange child he must be—and his parents had to be aware of what he was doing—after all they wrote the envelope—or Edward did, I know his handwriting.

Emmaline put the letter back in the torn envelope and, realizing the time, laid it on the desk and went downstairs to another lonely lunch. When George served her dessert wine he said, May I ask how Master Edward is, Ma’am?

Emmaline looked at him and barked, What business is it of yours how Master Edward is. And for what reason did you ask?

George, who was not in the least intimidated by his mistress, answered, I couldn’t help but see the return address on the letter you just received so I assumed . . .

Well, you assumed wrong. The letter was not from my son but from my grandson not that it’s any of your business. Now clear this away, I’m going upstairs to read.

Very shortly after, the household servants were abuzz with the news that the Mistress’ grandson had written to her. He was only six or seven years old and though there were lots of guesses, no one really had any idea what was about to happen.

Chapter 2

A Holiday Phone Call

H ooray! It’s the Fourth of July! Can we go to the fireworks, Dad? Mom, would it be OK? I’d really love to see some fireworks tonight.

Timmy was positively jumping up and down with excitement. His mother gently said, How about a little breakfast first, son? We all have to eat, you know, and afterwards we can talk about what to do for a celebration, how does that sound?

A shiny-eyed boy hopped to the table and slid into his chair while Belinda served her son and husband, and herself, some breakfast. I made French toast with jam sauce so we will all be strong, and for my Timmy, hot chocolate.

Dad reminded them, Did you forget there’s going to be a parade this morning? We have just enough time after breakfast to clean up and get ourselves over to Main Street so we can watch it. My boss said we could go upstairs and see everything from the front window of the building if you’d like to.

Timmy thought a minute, No, I think I like it better if I can be with all the people. It’s more exciting that way, isn’t it? Watching from a high up window sort of keeps you away from everything.

Mom ruffled his hair, Where did we find this very bright little man? Was it in the garbage or in the Library, or maybe in a dream?

Timmy laughed, Mom, don’t you remember? You found me in the hospital.

While these conversations were going on the dishes were being washed and put away and Dad had gotten everyone a sweater because it was a bit cool this morning.

Let’s go, family, its time to march to the music. With that he opened the door and leading the imaginary music with his hands, he began to march down the walk. Timmy clapped his hands and called out Boom! Boom! Boom! while Mom sang toodle-oodle-oodle with her hands cupped around her mouth. The neighbors cheered and clapped and called out, See you there! Save a place for me!

The parade had groups of old soldiers in suits with their VFW hats on and there were ‘new soldiers’, as Timmy called them, marching in their uniforms behind the High School band. There were floats with historical scenes