Claws For Concern

“He, Delaney that is, only found out about it when his mother died a few months ago,” I said. “He somehow tracked Uncle Del to Athena, and he came here to find out more about him.”

“I knew Sylvia Delaney,” Ernie said. “I thought Delaney was her married name. When did she and Del get divorced?”

“According to their son, six months after they married. His mother didn’t know she was pregnant until after Uncle Del left her, or so she told Bill Delaney. Apparently she wanted nothing more to do with her ex-husband so she never bothered to tell him he had a son.”

“In this case the sins of the father have truly been visited upon the child,” Ernie said grimly.

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. “Could you explain that? I don’t follow you?”

“Delbert Collins was a heavy drinker,” Ernie said. “He kept it hidden from Dottie for the first year or so of their marriage, but he came home roaring drunk one night and she discovered the truth.”

“I had no idea,” I said. “Aunt Dottie never said a word about it. I suppose she might have told my parents.”

“I imagine they knew,” Ernie replied, “but, of course, it wasn’t something they would have talked about in front of you.”

“No, I guess not,” I said. “Poor Aunt Dottie, having to deal with that.”

Ernie chuckled, surprising me again. “You, of course, didn’t know your aunt in her younger days. I have to tell you, Dottie had enough steel in her spine to withstand just about anything. She put her foot down, as they say. Told Del Collins that he had two choices. He could continue drinking and going his own way or he could stay married to her and give it up. She wasn’t going to put up with his coming home drunk all the time.”

As Ernie talked, I remembered occasions when I had experienced that steel. Aunt Dottie was the sweetest, most loving aunt I could have wished for, but when I misbehaved at her house, I soon realized the error of my ways.

“Was the drinking the reason for Uncle Del’s health problems?” I asked.

“To a degree, I expect it was,” Ernie said. “He had a couple of heart attacks before you were born, I’d say, and later on a stroke that left him considerably diminished.”

“Mostly what I remember about him is that he spent just about all of his time in his room,” I said. “I actually didn’t see him much except at mealtimes when I stayed with them.”

“He was in pretty bad shape,” Ernie said. “If he had been on his own, he probably would have died long before he did, frankly. Dottie took exceptionally good care of him. On top of working and earning a living for both of them. A good living, I have to say.”

“Thank you for telling me all this,” I said. “As I said, I never knew any of it.”

“You’re certainly welcome. I don’t think Dottie would mind your knowing. Now tell me, other than being a drunk like Del, what kind of proof does Bill Delaney have to back up his claim that he’s Del’s son?” Ernie asked.

“A birth certificate from Tullahoma County that lists Uncle Del as the father. It appears authentic to me.”

“I suppose that could be faked,” Ernie said, “but it’s probably authentic. I know someone in the county clerk’s office in Tullahoma. I’ll get her to check it out on Monday.” She paused for a moment. “This really isn’t any of my business, but I’m a nosy old woman so you’ll have to bear with me. Has he hit you up for money? He isn’t entitled to any of Dottie’s money, and he certainly has no claim to her house.”

“I don’t mind your being nosy.” I chuckled. “He hasn’t asked for anything from me, except for information. My impression so far is that he simply wants to know about his father, and I can understand that. The problem is that I don’t have much to tell him.”

“No, you really wouldn’t have,” Ernie said. “If Dottie had known about the relationship, she would have taken him in. That was her way.”

“Yes, she would have,” I said. “And that is my dilemma. Knowing what Aunt Dottie would do, how can I not try to help him? It’s what she would want.”

“Yes, she would,” Ernie said. “I would counsel against it, frankly, but then I have never been as bighearted and accepting as Dottie was. I would have told her the same thing. You’ll have to follow your conscience on this.”

“Yes,” I said. “What else can you tell me about Bill Delaney?”

“Let me see,” Ernie replied. “Now, I know he spent some time in the Marine Corps. Probably should have made a career of it, but he didn’t. He came back to Tullahoma and did mostly manual labor. I think he was smart enough to have gone to college and would have done well, except for the drinking. He started that as a teenager, and that ruined him. He had a hard time keeping a job for long because sooner or later he went on a bender and disappeared for days, even a week or two, at a time.”

“That’s sad,” I said. “You mentioned that you knew his mother, I believe.”