Blue Bloods of Bois D’Arc (8 page)

Chapter 19

Adolphus Hotel, Dallas

Entering the lobby through the Adolphus Hotel’s gilded doors momentarily distracted Rod after the emotional drive to Dallas. With its life-size paintings, rich furnishings, and polished mahogany paneling, the luxurious 1912 hotel made him feel as if he had just stepped back into a time of European elegance. It had truly earned its reputation of the “Grande Dame” of grand hotels.

“Wow, this is even cooler than the Willard Hotel in Washington where Jack and I stayed,” Rod said, trying to impress her rich friends.

“Right this way.” The maître d’ directed the four couples into the French Room, the most elegant dining room in the hotel, where they were the only guests. Tables were set as if royalty were coming for dinner. As soon as everyone was seated, a troop of waiters began pouring water and tea since everyone was under age. That wasn’t a problem, as all the boys except Rod brought their flasks of liquor.

The three other couples were from the wealthiest families in Bois D’Arc, starting with Eddie Winthrop, whose father was owner and senior partner in the Winthrop, Biggs, and Bartholomew law firm, which rivaled some of the prestigious law firms in Dallas. His date Abigail Petri’s father was founder of Texas Data Systems, a growing computer company in Dallas. Robert Wesley McConnelly was the grandson of the founder of the Lone Star Cotton Compress, who had emigrated from England and established the largest cotton compress in East Texas at its height in the early 1900s. Robert was escorting Eleanor Lewensky, whose father was president of Lewensky Designs, producer of women’s designer dresses for Neiman Marcus in Dallas. Kent Abington’s father, a single parent, owned the Lakewood Country Club. His date, Alexandra Holzworth, was the daughter of his father’s mistress—not a well-kept secret in Bois D’Arc. And there was Cass Worthington, a blue-blood legacy, whose escort lived in the Flats with no pedigree. That didn’t sit well with the rest of the group, especially Eddie Winthrop, who despised Rod because he had no chance of competing for Cass’s affections against the star quarterback.

Rod scanned the menu. There were so many choices. He had no idea what most of them were, such as Branzini, Edamame Puree a la Plancha, Baby Shiitake Mushrooms with Caper Brown Butter, and the desserts—French Room Trio of Sorbets, Olive Oil Cake, Meringue Crisp, and French Room Soufflés.

Eighty dollars for a three-course meal got his attention, too. “I don’t think I have the stomach for any of this stuff,” he whispered to Cass. “Why don’t you order for us? You spent the summer in France.” His anger at Cass for not inviting any of his friends to the dinner party was working its way back to the surface.

Before Cass could explain the choices to Rod, Eddie read the menu to the others in flawless French, which they understood. “See, it isn’t so hard if you’ve taken courses other than football and P.E. in school.”

“Shut up, Eddie,” Cass snapped.

Rod reached across the table, knocking over his tall water glass, and grabbed Eddie by his lapels. “That’s okay, Cass, I can take care of myself.” He was ready to slam him face down on the table.

“Stop it!” she shouted as she grabbed Rod’s arm. “Please, Rod, don’t ruin this evening.”

“Don’t worry, it’s already ruined. Let’s go. I can’t breathe in here.” He grabbed Cass by the hand, pulled her up from her chair, and dragged her toward the lobby.

The group watched in shock as Eddie called after Cass, “Don’t throw your life away on a crippled loser.” He straightened his dinner jacket and motioned for the stunned waiters to clean up the spilled water. “Now we can have a civilized dinner without the white trash at the table.”

Cass dug in her heels and stopped Rod before they reached the valet. “Why did you have to do that? You know Eddie’s a pompous ass and has always been jealous of you. This was your chance to show them that you are just as good as they are.”

“Don’t you get it? I’m not as good as they are. Let’s just get the car and go home, okay?”

“No, I don’t want to go home. Not like this,” Cass pleaded.

Rod whistled at the valet to bring the car around, further embarrassing Cass. When it arrived, the valet opened Cass’s door and bid her a good evening. Rod jumped behind the wheel and sped away. The door handle jerked out of the valet’s hand and the door slammed shut with a bang.

“Let’s go somewhere so we can talk,” Cass said.

“Fine, any suggestions?”

“Holiday Inn, it’s only a few blocks from here.”

“A motel?”

“Yes.”

“What if somebody sees us?”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine, Holiday Inn it is.”

The Continental screeched to a halt in front of the Holiday Inn. Rod rented a room while Cass waited in the car. There were no suspicious looks because of his tux. It was prom night in Dallas as well and the motels were busier than on any football weekend. Rod bought two Cokes from the vending machine and stopped for a bucket of ice on the way to their room. He slid the key into the door and barged in, followed closely by Cass. She sat on the edge of the king-size bed and patted the spot next to her with her hand, signaling Rod to have a seat.

“We are too good together to let a jerk like Eddie Winthrop come between us,” Cass said, accepting the Coke from Rod.

“Cass, I love you, you know that. But not being able to go to college and play football, well, I just don’t think it would work out. You know the reason your grandfather let us date this year. I let him believe that so we could be together, but I never intended to go to SMU. I was committed to A&M. After my injury, I’m no use to anyone anymore. Can’t you see that? I don’t fit in with your family and their lifestyle. I’ll never be able to take you to fancy places like the Adolphus and blow $200.00 on dinner. That would have bought a month’s worth of groceries for our family.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that. Let Gramps help you with a scholarship. You’d make a great coach and I could teach little first-graders. We can have our own family, a star quarterback and a cheerleader. We don’t need to live that kind of life.”

“I’d feel like a kept man controlled by your family. They want you to marry well, someone in your social class so the family can be proud of you and you can continue being one of the blue bloods of Bois D’Arc.”

“But that’s not who I am,” she said as she pushed him back onto the bed. Standing in front of him between his knees, she unzipped her prom dress and dropped it on the floor, revealing her completely naked body. “This is what I want.” She loosened Rod’s belt and unzipped his trousers, only to find a limp penis.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in her sexiest voice, trying to arouse him with a gentle massage. She dropped to her knees and popped the head into her mouth, slowly teasing it with her tongue until she had him fully erect in a matter of seconds. She was already wet with anticipation as she straddled him. With one quick motion, she guided him into her warm body.

Other than his erection, Rod appeared passive to her advances.

“Remember that night on the golf course and how itchy the grass was?” she said. “A king-size bed is much more comfortable than the golf course.” She grabbed his wrists to pin him down, but he didn’t submit. Instead he sat up with her straddling him. “Oh, you do want to play. Come on, take that jacket off and let’s get down to business here.”

“You need to get dressed,” Rod said in a somber voice. “I’m taking you home. But first I have to tell you something.” His lips were only inches from the surprised expression on her face. “I’ve enlisted in the Air Force and will be leaving for Lackland Air Force Base two weeks after graduation.”

Tears began streaming down her face. “Why?”

“I don’t know what else to do. I have to help support my family . . . my mother is getting too crippled with arthritis to work. I don’t have any other choice. We need the money now, not after four years of college.”

“And when were you going to tell me?” Cass’s voice was rising. Not waiting for an answer, she said, “What about us and our plans? I thought we were going get out of Bois D’Arc together.”

“That was your plan. You saw what happened tonight. You deserve someone who can give you that life. Your family expects that. I’d never fit into your life or the future they have planned for you.”

“Stop saying that! I’m sick and tired of hearing what my family wants for me. Don’t I have a say in this? It’s my life and I damned well want to live it my way and that includes living it as Mrs. Rod Miller.” Cass collapsed into Rod’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Rod held her tightly. “If I hadn’t joined the Air Force, I would have been drafted and sent to Vietnam. The chances of coming home in a body bag are pretty high. I just couldn’t take that risk and do that to you and my family.” Rod paused. “I’m sorry, Cass, I love you and don’t want to hurt you, but I have to do this. I think it’s best for both of us.”

“Don’t want to hurt me?” She pulled away from him. “I gave myself to you unconditionally and now you want to run away!” She pounded his chest with her fists as she screamed, “You bastard, I hope you do come home in a body bag!”

Air Force bound

Rod and Junior stood in the waiting room of the Trailways bus terminal. “Hey, man, you sure you want to do this? I mean, people are gettin’ killed over there. Don’t you watch it on the TV news?”

“If I do go to Vietnam, airmen aren’t near the combat zone. Besides, I don’t have a choice, man, I have to have the income to help support my family. The only thing I know how to do is throw a football and there’s no demand for lame quarterbacks in college these days. I can’t stay here now. Cass hates me and her family is glad to see me go.”

“Bus one-nineteen boarding for Waco, Killeen, Austin, and San Antonio,” boomed the loudspeaker. “Please have your tickets ready. Departing in five minutes.”

“I guess this is it,” said Junior.

The two lifelong friends hugged.

“Good luck at USC,” Rod said. “I’m expecting big things, All-American and the number one pick of the Los Angeles Rams. Nothing less.”

“I’m gonna give it my best shot. Take care and don’t get your ass shot off in Vietnam.”

“Thanks, I feel better already.” As Rod boarded the bus, he took a quick look around to see if by some miracle Cass had come to see him off. She was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t seen or talked to her since prom night. The driver stood by the door and punched his ticket. Rod climbed aboard the bus with an aching heart and dropped into the first seat behind the driver.

The door closed as the driver started the engine. With the hiss of releasing airbrakes, the bus slowly pulled away from the loading dock. Rod scanned the bus terminal one last time. It finally hit him. He would never see Cass again. He opened the window and waved goodbye to his best friend, who responded, “Check out the beaches and send me a postcard.”

Chapter 20

Vandenberg Air Force Base

Rod graduated from basic training at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio near the top of his class and was sent to Vandenberg AFB in California for training in electronic systems technology. The base was a vast technical training and data collection post where intelligence-gathering satellites were launched. The Cold War with Russia after World War II created a need for information and a means to collect intelligence from behind the Iron Curtain.

The tech students were quartered in open-bay barracks, with double-stacked bunks, much like basic training. Rod was unpacking his bag in front of his locker with other class members. A tall, slender airman wearing black horn-rimmed glasses approached him. “Hi, my name’s Guy, top or bottom?”

“Glad to meet you, Guy, I’m Rod. I prefer the bottom. Don’t remember seeing you back at Lackland. What flight were you in?”

“Flight B62-12. I was scheduled to play in the band until my grades came in. They said I was in the top one percent of the class. So, here I am. What’s your story?

“I joined up to support my family back in Texas.”

“You married?”

“No, my dad died in an accident and my mother is raising my younger brother and sister by herself on a small pension. She has bad arthritis and can’t work for extra income much anymore. I was on schedule to play college football on a scholarship and hoped I’d be good enough to play pro ball, but an injury my senior year ended that pipe dream. This was the quickest way to make money to help out back home.”

“Sorry about your bad luck. This training can help you get a good-paying job when you get out. Things are heating up around the globe with the Vietnam War and the nuclear chess game we’re playing with the Russians. Intelligence gathering is one of the government’s highest priorities and I plan to be a part of that.”

“That sounds like lifer talk. Planning on making it a career?”

“No, I couldn’t afford college either and, like you, this was the next best thing. After I get four years’ experience here, I’ll muster out back to North Carolina and make three times as much as a civilian in the Research Triangle. What’s your plan?”

“I really hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Rod said. “Like you said, things are getting hot over there and they need technicians. At least we won’t be wading in rice paddies carrying a rifle and getting shot at.”

“Sounds like we’ll be in some classes together. It’s going to be a long haul until Christmas when we get our first leave. You have any plans to go home to Texas?”

“Nah, I’m saving my money to send home, how about you?”

“Me neither, too expensive to fly from coast to coast.”

“Great,” Rod said. “You can go with me up to Pasadena to watch my high school buddy at Southern Cal play in the Rose Bowl if they live up to pre-season rankings.”

“Sounds great. We’ll definitely need to get out of this place for a change of scenery.”

Bad news from the home front

A soft tap on the classroom door interrupted the instructor. A courier handed him a note.

“Airman Miller, report to the Squad Commander’s office,” he barked.

Rod hurried down the hall to the SC’s office and knocked twice on the door.

“Come,” responded a voice from inside.

Rod entered, marched to the Squadron Commander’s desk, snapped to attention, and threw a crisp salute. “Airman Miller reporting, sir.”

“At ease, airman. I received a telegram from a Mr. Jack Workman with the information that your mother has suffered a stroke. He has requested that you be given emergency leave. We have contacted the Red Cross. They will provide travel arrangements. I have approved advanced leave of five days to visit your hospitalized mother. It is unusual to interrupt an intensive course such as yours in this manner, but Jack Workman is an old friend of mine. Go home and take care of your personal affairs and be back here prepared to double down in your course of study. Check with the Officer of the Day for details and arrangements. See you in five days, airman. Dismissed.”

Love Field, Dallas

Jack Workman waited impatiently in the passenger reception area, watching the downtown Dallas skyline light up against the darkened sky. Rod’s flight arrival had been announced ten minutes ago. His eyes were trained on the double doors next to the vacant ticket desk. Jack’s pulse quickened as gate eleven opened for the deplaning passengers. He was as excited as any father would have been. He spotted Rod in the middle of the mob of passengers flooding through the gate.

“Over here, son.” Jack called, waving his long arms to attract Rod’s attention. He gave Rod a strong handshake and a slap on the shoulder with his other hand.

“You really look great in that uniform. Looks like you’ve put on a couple of pounds, too. Must be that good Air Force chow,” Jack said, smiling at his protégé.

“Thanks. How’s Mom? Are Jessica and Mark okay?” Rod fired in rapid succession.

“She’s doing fine, but will be in the hospital for a while longer. Seeing you will be the best medicine for her. Jessica and Mark are just fine. I have a housekeeper coming every day to keep the house clean, fix their meals, and do the laundry. You have nothing to worry about. Everything is taken care of.”

“Thanks, Jack. How can I ever repay you for all you’ve done?”

“Don’t worry about it. The important thing is she’s in good hands here at Parkland. As soon as we pick up your luggage, we’ll be on our way there.”

“This small flight bag is all I have. I’m ready to go,” Rod said.

“I’ve reserved a room for you at a motel down the street from the hospital so you can stay close by. I’ll bring Jessica and Mark over tomorrow and you can visit with them, too. It’s going to be crazy in Dallas tomorrow. The President is coming in for some big political event. Harry will be in town, too. Maybe we can squeeze in a short visit when he meets the President for lunch. How would you like that?”

“Can he do that?”

“Harry’s an old Army Air Corps man and the President is a Navy man. You bet he’ll take a few minutes to greet a sharp-looking, young Air Force man in uniform. Besides, we’re old friends after out last meeting in the Whitehouse.” Jack chuckled.

“Sounds great. At least it won’t be as embarrassing as the White House showers,” Rod said, catching Jack’s humor.

“Yeah, Harry smoothed that over. And the President will have his wife with him on this trip.” Jack winked at Rod. “Okay, let’s get you to Parkland and see your mom. She’s really anxious to see you.”

“Thanks for arranging my leave, Jack, I really appreciate it.”

“Glad to do it, son. That’s what friends are for.”

Parkland Hospital

As the elevator slowly lifted them to the eighth-floor stroke care unit, Jack turned to Rod. “Your mom is having trouble with her speech and can’t talk very well. She doesn’t have the use of her right side. Another result of the stroke is that she weeps a lot. The doctor says that’s a normal side effect that will go away in a short time, but she will be frustrated and embarrassed about it. It will be a matter of time and therapy before she regains any use of her arm and leg.” Jack paused. “In fact, she may never regain their use. It just depends on how well she responds to therapy. The doctor said every patient is different. I just want you to be prepared when you first see her. Okay, here we are. She’s in Room 815. Are you ready?”

Rod took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

When they entered her room, Rod found himself shocked at his mother’s appearance, even after Jack’s warning. She looked years older. Her face was ashen gray. The right side of her face drooped with saliva drooling from the corner of her mouth. Her hair was disheveled and almost white. She began crying as soon as Rod entered her room. Fighting back his own tears, he managed a smile.

“Hi, Mom.” Rod breathed deeply. “It’s good to see you. I came as soon as I could. How are you feeling?”

She tried to respond, but she couldn’t control her weeping. Their attempt at conversation was a struggle and it frustrated her. Rod could see his visit was upsetting her. He wasn’t faring much better. He had never seen his mother cry except at his dad’s funeral. It was sad to see her this way.

“That’s okay,” Rod said and bent down to give her a kiss on her forehead. “It’s late and I know you’re tired. We’ll let you get some rest. I’m staying in a motel down the street and will come back in the morning. Jack will bring Jessica and Mark tomorrow when he comes.” After another kiss, on the cheek this time, with a whispered “I love you”, they left the room.

Rod didn’t sleep well and woke up early, accustomed to the five a.m. wakeup call in the barracks. It was still dark as he sat on the side of his bed, wondering how he would have managed this without Jack. He had always been supportive, no matter what the circumstances. Rod knew there was no way he could possibly repay him for all his help. He believed Jack when he said he didn’t want anything in return. He really looked on Rod as the son he never had. That thought left him with a relaxed feeling. He knew Jack would take good care of his mother until he got out of the Air Force.

Fresh out of the shower, Rod dressed in his uniform again in case they actually had lunch with Harry and the President. He had learned never to doubt Jack’s word. His mind was spinning with concern for his mother’s health as he dug into a Western omelet and a side of grits at a nearby pancake house. This was a treat away from Air Force chow. He smiled to himself when he realized there wasn’t much that can go wrong with grits and a Western omelet packed with jalapenos.

Rod stopped by the hospital flower shop after breakfast and bought a bouquet of his mom’s favorite roses to brighten her room. He wanted to get to her room in time to feed her breakfast. When he arrived, her eyes brightened when she saw Rod. The doctor and attending nurse were at her bedside.

“Good morning. I’m Dr. Albreck and this is Nurse Sweeney. You must be Rod. I heard you were coming from California to see her. The Red Cross really does a great job helping our servicemen in situations like this.”

“Yes, sir, they sure do. Pleased to meet you, doctor. How’s she doing?”

“She has some paralysis on her right side and difficulty speaking. We have a good therapy department that will help her get better, and when she gets home, there are good therapists there who can continue to work with her. You should see some results in the next three to six months. I’ll leave you two to visit, but try not to make your visits too long. She needs plenty of rest,” Dr. Albreck said and left to finish his rounds.

“The flowers are beautiful,” she said in her slurred, weepy voice. “Thank you.”

Rod tried to carry on a conversation by doing most of the talking. It was difficult to watch her struggle to speak. The TV was playing too loud in the background, so he turned the volume down as the nurse came in with breakfast. He tried to get her to eat some of her soft diet of grits, runny scrambled eggs, Jell-O, and coffee. She wasn’t hungry, but he finally was able to get a few bites in her and she drank her orange juice before Jack arrived with Jessica and Mark.

“Boy, am I glad to see y’all,” Rod said as he hugged his little sister and brother.

Jessie and Mark gave their mom hugs and kisses and chatted, sitting on the side of her bed. Meanwhile Rod and Jack were huddled over in the corner of the room.

“Doc says this could take months of therapy, even after she gets home.” Rod’s voice was strained.

“Look, don’t you worry about that. I’ll take care of your mother. I’ll have a nurse with her all day, every day. I’m right there and can look in on her and let you know how she’s doing. You just concentrate on your studies and leave the rest to me.”

“You have no idea what a relief that is to me. I really owe you big time.”

Jack looked a little annoyed. “You worry too much for a young man. Trust me when I say I’ll take care of her. Okay?” With that, Jack put his arm around Rod’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. Now, I need to see if I can get a hold of Harry and find out if our luncheon with the President is still on. They should be finished at the political event and on their way to the hotel shortly. I’ll leave a note at the hotel desk for him to call me at this room number. I’ll use the phone at the nurses’ station. Be right back.”

While Jack was making his phone call, an ambulance with a police escort came screaming into the emergency entrance eight floors below. Even though the volume was low, there was a lot of commotion on the TV screen. Rod froze when he heard what all the excitement was about. On the way from the political rally, the President had been shot while riding in his open car and waving to the crowds lining the street. They were bringing him to Parkland. Jack returned from his phone call.

“Jack! Look at this, the President’s been shot and he’s downstairs!” Rod whispered, trying not to upset his mother.

The room phone rang.

“Hello, this is Rod,” he answered softly.

“Rod, this is Harry, is Jack with you?”

“Yes, he just tried to reach you at your hotel.”

“Let me talk to him. I’m sorry. Forgive me. How is your mother? Jack said she had a stroke.”

“She did and is doing as well as can be expected at this stage. Thanks for asking. Here’s Jack.” Rod turned and handed the phone to Jack.

“Jack, I’m downstairs in the waiting room outside the emergency room. There’s a whole team of doctors working on the President. It doesn’t look good. His wife, the Vice President, and their whole entourage along with a couple dozen Secret Service people and local police are down here. It’s a madhouse. Nobody knows what’s going on or what happened. They are setting up a command post here and have managed to keep the news media out, but that won’t last long. They will have to make a statement to the press soon. Sorry, buddy, it looks like our lunch plans are canceled. I’ll keep you advised about the President’s condition. Gotta go.”