Comfort and Joy (9 page)

She laughed softly"Doesn't sound like me, does it? To tellyou the truth, though, I hated goingout there the first few years, when you children were young. I wanted my children and my husband and that was all the Christmas I needed. But when I got older things changed. I got used to it all, I guess. And now I can't do without it. Without this," indicating the pictures, the room filled with polished antiques. "Not everybody comes from a family with so much of its history preserved. I think we have a duty to with so much of its history preserved. I think we have a duty to that."
"A dutyto do what?"
"To continue." She sipped her dark sherry and rested her head brieflyagainst his shoulder.
"I thought we weren't goingto talk about allthat right now."
"I'm talking in general. Christmas makes me sentimental these days, with you children grown. So when you're here, I start to remember how things were when you were little, how happy I was to be a mother." She straightened, looked him in the eye. "There's so much happiness in raising a family, Ford. In continuingthe familythat you're part of. That's allI'mtryingto tell you."
"Thank you, Mother," he said, "I really am listening." But walked awayfromher, nevertheless.
At Uncle Reuben's party, within the gathering of the McKinney clan, he deliberately behaved like a stranger. Paying due courtesy to Uncle Reuben, he withdrew afterward to the side porch, choosing to study twilight over the intercoastal waterway. Courtenaysearched himout. Ford said, "I reallydon't need this muchfamilythis year. Do you?"
"I don't want to think about it," Courtenay said. "I still have a week left. And I have a feeling Mother and I are headed for a fight before I go back to school. The truth is, I'm going to live with my carpenter." Courtenay watched his face for reaction. "We've been talking about it for a long time. If Mom and Dad ever figure that out, I don't know what they'lldo."
"What cantheydo?"
"Behave the way they always do. Get very cold and pretend Mike isn't alive whenever we're together. Talk about Savannah boys I ought to be dating. Make sure to tellme everytime one of my friends gets married to the right kind of boy. It will be just like what happened when I told Mother I wouldn't make my debut. World War Three."
"Except youdon't live here anymore,"Ford said.
"Except youdon't live here anymore,"Ford said.
"Youcanbet Dad willcut offmymoney."
"Don't worry about that. I have money. So do you, you just can't get to it yet. I'll loan you whatever you need till you're twenty-five and you can pay me back. And there's not a thing Momand Dad cando about that."
She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thanks for the offer. I hope I don't have to take you up on it, but believe me, I will if I need to." Moving to face him, she took his face in her hands. "What about you? What are yougoingto do?"
He watched the last light on the water and the deepening shadows of the yard. "I'm going to visit my singer as soon as I get back to the hospital. And then I'm going to see what happens."
The two ofthemreturned to the family gathering together, arm inarm, and throughthe rest ofthe eveningstood guard over each other. Through Uncle Reuben's continual goading of Uncle Paul, through the stories about boat purchases and extravagant vacation plans traded among the uncles, through the cool comparison of clothing among all parties and of jewelry among the aunts, Ford and Courtenay watched, back to back, then moved along parallel lines into the formal parlor, where Uncle Reuben and Uncle Paul argued about the exact date of Uncle Ellis McKinney's wedding. "I said during the war!" Uncle Reuben shouted, inches fromUncle Paul's ear. "During the war! He alreadyhad childrenafter the war!"
By the end of the evening, as happened every year, Uncle Pauland Uncle Reuben refused to speak to each other. This had become the signal for Father to collect his own branch of the clan and return to Savannah, since Uncle Paul preferred to retire from the battlefield once a satisfactory round of hostilities had been completed. Father's theory held that Uncle Paul and Uncle Reuben had lived as long as they had mostly out of spite and anger toward each other. Father asked Uncle Paul if he was ready to leave, and Uncle Paul said, "Leave? By goddamn right I'm ready to leave! Who can sit here and talk to a fool like Reubenallnight?"
Reubenallnight?"
"Fool hell!" Reuben said. "You're the fool! Can't tell 1942 from 1948 anymore. You're getting too old, Paul, you ought to go onand die."
Uncle Paul waved his hand in dismissal at Uncle Reuben. Holding his mother's coat as she slipped gracefully into it, Ford smelled the sweet pungency of her good cologne. She said, evenly, "Well, that's over, anyway,"and smiled at her son. "Now we cango home."
At his parents' house, Ford counted the minutes till he could excuse himself and retire. Having prepared himself to discourage any attempt at conversation, he was relieved when none took place. He rose, finally. "Tomorrow morning I'm taking a taxi, so you folks can sleep it off." He rubbed the back of his head idly. "In fact, if I'm going to be awake when I get to the hospital tomorrow, I'd better go to bed now."
Saying good night to all, kissing Mother, shaking Father's hand, he thanked them for a fine Christmas and headed to the bedroom in which he slept as a guest of the house. Knowing now, and vowing to remember, that home lay in front of him, in the crass bigcitynestled at the foot ofthe Georgia mountains.

But his mother rose to see himoffthat morning, greetinghimin the predawn kitchen with a kiss on the cheek. Fresh fromsleep, she was suffused with gentleness, and he remembered the mother of his childhood. In the long morning robe with the net cap over her hair, she seemed younger, softer, than on the previous evening in her formidable makeup and fashionable eveningclothes. She set the coffee infront ofhimand stroked his hair to the proper line across his brow. Naked of its disguises, her face seemed innocent and whole.

"I couldn't let you get up and leave us without anybody "I couldn't let you get up and leave us without anybody around."Even her voice lacked its subtle edge of judgment. "No matter how old youget, you're stillmyson."

For the first time since he had arrived, he felt at ease with her. She asked what time was the flight and he told her. "I need to callthe taxiand make sure it's coming,"he said.

"I'llcall,"she said. "Sit and drink your coffee tillit gets here." The car arrived before the coffee cooled, and Ford lifted his overnight bag as Mother stood close by. He embraced her thin shoulders and wondered at her slightness. Sudden sadness gripped themboth. "Please take care of yourself,"she said. "We worryabout you."

He slipped into the taxi, turning once to wave. Framed by the substantial porch, wrapping the quilted robe against her sides, she had become almost a girl again. Her face filled with sorrow as the taxi pulled away. He felt the sorrow echo in himself, along withfear. Could he reallymeanto do what he planned?

The glorious crimson clouds blazed for the whole of the short jet flight, and Ford sat suspended in the bleeding light. He tried to remember Dan's face and recalled only a vague blur. Any feelingconcealed itself.

The house on Clifton Heights awaited him with calming silence, the soft rush of air through the vents and return, the flush of morning light along the kitchen walls. He wandered through the emptiness, touching the familiars that grounded him: the dumbbells in the den, the black bag that had belonged to Ford McKinneySr.

Hours remained before he needed to report to the hospital. He stood in the bedroom, near the place where he had found Hammond. Acold ache filled him, and another memoryfollowed that one: of himself, wandering through the dark house, the evening of the Christmas concert, the Friday of the aborted dinner. The sound of the telephone ringing in his ear but no one answering.

Memory of Dan's face returned to him, vivid in detail, and Ford remembered the eerie voice, singing not the lullaby of this year's concert but the well-known carol of the year before,
To save us all from Satan's power, when we were gone astray.

At the top of the C-wing of the huge edifice, the medical school had installed a gymnasium for the use of residents, who were often trapped in the building for long shifts and unable to reach their usual exercise clubs. Ford headed there, parked in the sparsely populated deck, and strode through the quiet corridors. Hardly anyone had returned from the holidays. He found the gym empty but for one third-year student, a woman named Dorothy Ballard whomhe had met here before. "I stayed in town this Christmas," she said. "I learned a long time ago that going home is useless. My lover made Christmas dinner, and we had the best holidayI canremember inyears."

"I wish I'd had the good sense to stay here," Ford said, pretendingfor the moment that this were actuallyanoption.
"Do yourself a favor and get listed for Christmas duty next year."
"I think I'lldo that."He headed for the benchpress.
My lover made Christmas dinner.
He remembered what Dorothyhad said while he showered inthe on-callsuite one floor below, stashing his gymbag in the locker and dressing in scrubs. Taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair to get the look ofit just right, he spoke to the face inthe mirror. "Whatever happens, I'mfine,"he said. "Whatever happens."
The wait for the elevator seemed endless, but when he entered the car a wave of dread engulfed him. At the outer door to the office suite in which he would either find or not find Dan, he took a deep breath. Let him be here, he thought, let this be over. The other voice attempted to intercede as well, to say, no, not yet, you haven't planned what you're going to say, wait a while, but Ford placed his hand flat onthe door and pushed.
The secretarial office lay empty, desk clean of paper, and one
The secretarial office lay empty, desk clean of paper, and one of the inner offices, darkened, bore witness to the quiet of the day. But the second of the inner doors opened onto a well-lit room, and Ford could see window blinds and the fragments of a light court beyond. On a table, at right angles to a desk, sat a personal computer, screen facing the desk's occupant. Ford watched the doorway, the corner of the desk, his fear rising. He should announce himself, but he could find no voice.
Dancalled fromthe office, "Hello, I'minhere."
The fullness ofsound touched Ford frommanyangles at once. He found he had been holding the door open all this time and released it to close behind him. He cleared his throat and said, "It's Ford McKinney. I'mhere to see you, ifyouhave a minute."
Silence.Followed bythe sound ofa chair releasingweight.
Dan's shadow crossed the doorway, paused there. Dan himselfemerged a moment later.
He stood in the doorway. Taller than Ford remembered, though not as tall as Ford. Watching Ford with an expression neither cold nor warm, a simple blank. "This is a surprise. I didn't expect to hear fromyou, after your note."
Ford fought off breathlessness and leveled his gaze to meet Dan's. "I'm sure you didn't. Can I talk to you for a minute? Are youbusy?"
A telephone buzzed. Dan turned to face it, then turned to Ford and watched himas the buzzing continued. "Yes, I can talk to you."He turned againinto his office. "Please come in."
The phone continued to ring, then stopped. Dan folded his hands and looked at Ford. "I got your note. Is there something youneed to add to it?"
Ford flushed, feeling his heart beat harder. "I'msorry. It was a stupid thingto write."
Dan shrugged. "I don't know about that. If you were going to cancel, a letter was as good a way as any. A lot better than doingit inperson."
The blunt, unforgiving words collided with the image of
The blunt, unforgiving words collided with the image of innocence, leaving Ford speechless. The rising of steam through convector pipes covered the silence. Finally Ford said, softly, "No, that's not what I meant," drawing a long breath, forcing himself to look Dan in the eye, to show some of what he felt. "What I mean is, I got scared. I wanted to take you to dinner, but I got scared. I was sorry later. But it was too late to do anythingabout it."
"You could have called me. I would have been glad to let you change your mind."
"I did. But your secretary said you had already gone home for Christmas. I called you the Friday we were supposed to go to dinner."Aflush still heated his face, and he was beginning to feel like a fool. "I called you at home, too. The phone rang for a long time. I guess youdon't have anansweringmachine."
"No," Dan said, "I don't," and for the first time his expression softened. He studied the desktop. With sudden understanding, Ford said, "Youwere there, weren't you."
Dan's face shimmered from its cool control to another expression, and Ford saw in that other face the man whom he wanted to reach.
"I wishyouhad answered."
Danshrugged. "I wishyouhadn't writtenthe letter."
Beneath the cool voice lurked another, and Ford answered. "I'msorryI did. I alreadysaid that."
"Well, youmight have to sayit again."
Outside, in the light court, dying breezes tossed potato chip bags idly on the roof below. Ford said, "I'll say it as often as I have to."
"Why? What do youwant?"
He would never have guessed from the brittleness of Dan's tone that this same voice could soothe. Ford concentrated onthe face he had glimpsed, the softness he had reached for a moment. "I want to convince you I'm not a jerk so maybe you'll agree to go to dinner withme tomorrow."
go to dinner withme tomorrow."
Dan absorbed this. "What will that prove? That you're really okay, that you're not a jerk, like yousaid? And that's it?"
"What do youmean, that's it?"
"We go out to dinner, and that proves you're anokayguy. But what about me? Am I okay?" His voice had begun to tremble, but he quickly brought it under control. "I already know you're not a jerk, I don't care about that. One stupid note doesn't make you a jerk. But I don't want to go out with you because you feel sorry for me, or because you feel sorry for something you've done."
Ford stepped closer, sat on the desktop, nearer than before, and when Dan turned each could feel the heat of the other. They watched each other for a while. Ford wet his lips. "So you'll let me take youto dinner,"he said quietly. "Tomorrow."