Daughters (29 page)

“They do a bang-up job here with their chuck wagon stew. And their biscuit pie is fine as cream gravy. Do you want a beer?”

This wasn’t going to work.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she told him.

When the waitress brought two beers and chuck wagon stew, Ted held up his bottle and said, “Here’s how!”

It was going to be a long evening.

Between Ted’s cowboy lingo and the boisterous bar activity, Marie understood only about half of what he said during dinner. Toward the end of their meal, when he told her they should probably get a wiggle on, she admitted to herself she liked this man’s personality and character, but definitely not as a love interest.

Ted pulled his truck up in front of Marie’s apartment. She reached for the door handle, but he gently grasped her other arm and said, “Can we talk a spell?”

Marie turned to face him. “Sure.”

“I like you.” He had the calmest deep brown eyes.

“I like you too, Ted.”

“But not as your home-skillet.”

She wasn’t familiar with the expression, but based on the connotation, she figured it meant something like boyfriend/girlfriend. “I agree.”

“Whew! What a relief.” His smile was wide. “The whole time we were talkin’ through dinner, I was thinkin’, ‘I wonder if she’s thinkin’ the same thing I’m thinkin’.’” He grinned. “When it comes to understanding women, I’m afraid I’m usually pretty much lost at sea.”

Taken in by his innocent charm, Marie couldn’t help but smile. “Then we’re on the same page?”

“I think so. How about if we go riding sometime?”

“I’d like that.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Good night.”

“Good night, Ted.”

“Hey, and just remember, I’m someone you can always ride the river with, so if you ever need anything, anything at all, you call on me. Ya hear?”

Marie smiled. “You can count on that, Ted. Good night.”

“So how did your date go?” Karen asked the next day.

“Oh, we had a real hog-killin’ good time.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No, it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. And he did too. But we both decided when he dropped me off afterward—in his freshly washed pickup truck, I might add—that we’re probably better off as just friends.”

“It’s nice to have a good male friend.”

“I think so too. Hey, do you want to come over Monday night? There’s a new television show everyone is talking about called
I Love Lucy
.”

“I’ll bring the wine.”

The divorce papers were served to Marie at her studio. After immediately informing her attorney, she phoned Jonathan.

“You’re going to sign them, right?” Jonathan asked her.

“Yes. I am definitely going to sign them.”

“What did he charge you with?”

“Abandonment.”

“I would take it and run.”

“I’m going to.”

“Claire wants to talk with you. I’ll talk to you later. Congratulations, Marie. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

Claire got on the phone. “Marie, will you be spending Thanksgiving with us this year?”

“Yes, I will.” It would be her third Thanksgiving spent with them.

“And what about Christmas?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Well, we would be thrilled if you could spend the month with us—the month between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

Her heart raced. “Oh my. Uh…let me give that some thought, Claire. What a wonderful invitation. The only reason I’m hesitating is because I have a business to run and customers who wait until the last minute to get their homes ready for the holidays. This is a very busy time of the year for me.”

“I understand.” The disappointment in her voice was obvious.

Marie had managed to build a successful business despite predictable odds for the times, and putting it in possible jeopardy by taking a month off wasn’t something she wanted to do. But spending a month with her family had the potential of enriching her life as nothing else could. Somehow she would make this work.

“Claire, my staff will just have to handle things while I’m gone. Yes. I would
love
to stay the month.”

“Wonderful. You and Jonathan can work out the details. And Marie…”

“Yes?”

“There’s someone besides your family who will be thrilled with your visit.”

“Is she fourteen and talks in teenager?”

“You guessed it. Ben brings her around every once in awhile, and you’re all she asks about.”

“That’s interesting because she plays it pretty cool in her letters and our occasional phone calls. Any word from her mother?”

“No. Not a word.”

“Well, please tell Rachael I’m looking forward to seeing her, and maybe we can do a few things together while I’m there.”

“I can hear the squeal now. I don’t think I’ll tell her just yet. If I do, she’ll be calling me every other day to see if I know anything more about when you’ll be here.”

“Good idea.”

Marie didn’t have to wait long to find out the court date, which was set for November 16, three days before she was to leave for St. Charles to be with her family for the holidays. She asked Karen if she would go with her for moral support, and Karen readily agreed.

They flew into Chicago the morning of the trial. Marie met with her attorney at the courthouse a half hour before they were scheduled to go in the courtroom. Karen sat on a bench down the hall.

Cavanaugh explained how the proceedings would go. He told her the whole case shouldn’t take any more than a half hour.

“What if he changes his mind?”

He gave her a puzzled look. “He was the one who filed.” He flipped the document in his hands to the last page. “And he signed it.”

“I’m just trying to think of all possibilities.”

“I understand. But I’ve been in touch with his attorney. In fact, I know him.”

“Really? What’s he like?”

“Let’s just say he’s not someone I would ever play a round of golf with. Anyway, everything seems to be in order.” A clerk came out of the courtroom and told them to come in. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Richard wore a navy blue pinstriped suit, bright white shirt, and perfectly knotted striped tie. He looked at Marie with a somber expression. Standing beside him was his attorney, who reminded Marie of one of the many characters Richard had brought into their home from time to time—dark slicked-back hair, shiny suit, and a large diamond pinky ring. He presented Richard’s case, and when he went on and on about Marie’s abandonment, Richard cleared his throat loudly as if to say, “Enough.”

Marie swiped the palms of her hands on her dress before taking her seat on the witness stand. While she had no intention of denying she had left Richard, her attorney had advised her she would likely be asked why she left him. She needed to reveal enough to justify her leaving, but not so much as to incriminate him. And she had to be truthful.

“Tell me why you left Mr. Marchetti,” the judge said.

“I left, your honor, because of my husband’s business.”

The judge peered down at the papers on his desk and then at her. “He sells medical equipment. You had a problem with that?”

“You see, in his business he has to meet with all kinds of people, attend all kinds of functions, and I just didn’t feel comfortable around them. I didn’t understand what he was doing half the time.”

The judge glanced at Richard and then his attorney. Marie was certain Richard’s attorney gave the judge some kind of signal with his facial expression. “You may leave the stand, Mrs. Marchetti. Divorce granted.”

The proceeding lasted just twenty minutes. Marie joined her attorney and walked toward the door, but before they reached it, Richard approached them.

“May I have a private word with your client, Mr. Cavanaugh?”

Cavanaugh turned to Marie with a questioning look.

“It’s okay,” Marie said. “I would like a moment with Richard if that’s okay.”

“I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”

Richard led the way to the back row of spectator seats and waited for Marie to sit down. He sat down next to her. He didn’t say anything at first; he merely focused on her with the same endearing eyes she remembered from when she was with him during the good times.

“I still love you. I want you to know that.” His voice was soft, and his words came slowly.

“I know.”

“This doesn’t have to be it, you know.”

“Yes, it does.”

He stared deep into her eyes and then past her. After a few seconds, he looked back at her and said, “I want to be there for you.”

She looked at him, puzzled.

“You’re going through a difficult time right now. I can be there for you. I want to be there for you.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Marie, it can’t be easy dealing with who your father is. I’ve met him, and he seems like a decent enough man, but it doesn’t matter how decent he is, he’s still a Negro, and so are you.” Jonathan had told her how Richard had finagled his way into a dinner party at his home two years earlier by posing as someone interested in horses. “I can help you with that. You need help with that.”

Richard had always taken exceptionally good care of her physical and material needs, but had never shown such consideration toward her emotional needs. She shook her head. “I’m handling things just fine.”

He stared into her eyes for several seconds, then got up and left. Marie took in a deep breath of air and sat alone for a minute before joining Karen and her attorney.

“Everything okay?” Cavanaugh asked.

“Yes. Everything is okay.”

He reached out for her hand. “Congratulations, Marie.”

“Thank you.”

Marie didn’t say anything on the way back to their hotel room, and Karen didn’t ask any questions. Once in their room, Marie called for room service and ordered a snack for the two of them, including a bottle of wine. She then went into the bathroom and had herself a good cry. When she came out ten minutes later, Karen was waiting for her.

“You okay?”

Marie nodded. “I just needed to get that out of my system.” She sat down in the chair across from Karen. “I don’t know why I cried like that. This is what I wanted.”

“What did he say to you? If you don’t mind saying, that is.”

Marie told her about their conversation.