Getting Some Of Her Own (31 page)

“I'll take you to see Rudy and Nathan now, but we'll have to visit Hamilton Village another time. I don't feel like dealing with Lucas Hamilton again today, and I won't.”

When they arrived, Rudy and Nathan were sitting on the floor in Ann's living room playing Chinese checkers. Ann opened the door, and Susan introduced Ann Price to her mother. When the children heard Susan's voice, they raced to greet her. Susan soaked up their hugs and affection, the unfettered love she needed after her breach with Lucas. She gathered them in her arms, hugged and kissed them. “Rudy and Nathan, this is my mother, Mrs. Pettiford.”

“You're her mother?” Rudy asked as if in awe that Susan should have a mother. “Does she have a father, too?”

“Not anymore, because he died,” Betty said and turned to Nathan. “Who was winning?”

He ignored the question. “Are you going to take Miss Pettiford away with you?”

“My goodness, no. I came to visit her for two weeks, then I'm leaving.”

“Oh,” he said, his face bright with a smile. “I was afraid you came to take her away. I always win when we play checkers.”

Ann served them tea and homemade biscuits with jam, and it did not escape Susan that her mother scrutinized Ann carefully. She wondered what Betty Lou looked for and what she saw. After an hour, they left Ann's house and went to Susan's shop.

“Mom, why were you sizing up Ann?”

“I wasn't sizing her up. Her skin looks as if her blood is barely circulating. Have you forgotten that I'm a graduate, public-health nurse? Ann is definitely not well. She was almost too tired to lift that cup of tea.”

“I know she's sick, and I help her as much as she'll let me.”

“Don't you work every day?” Betty Lou asked Susan. “I mean, who's taking care of your shop?”

“I work every day and nights, too, Mom, and I would have been in my shop all day today if Lucas hadn't upset me.”

“Listen, honey, don't let a man jerk your chain. I've taught you to keep your chin up no matter how badly you hurt. Of course, he did hand you a solid blow. I can't wait to meet the man who can make you cry.”

“It wasn't Lucas, it was the fear of losing Rudy.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Don't fool yourself. You're not going to lose Rudy. Ann Price is ill, Rudy is crazy about you, and there aren't that many people willing to adopt a child who's almost seven years old. And what are you going to do about Nathan? He's going to need you, too, and soon.”

 

 

The following Tuesday morning, Susan and her mother entered the shop shortly after eight o'clock, and the telephone rang immediately thereafter. Without thinking, Susan said to her mother, “Could you please answer that, Mom?”

“Pettiford Interiors. May I help you?”

“This is Lucas Hamilton. May I please speak with Ms. Pettiford?”

“Just a second.” She covered the receiver with her hand. “It's Lucas Hamilton.”

“I won't speak with him, Mom. I'm not going to begin my day with a load of misery.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Hamilton, but she said she won't speak with you. I'm her mother, Betty Lou Pettiford, and I want to meet you. Do you have time to come by the shop?”

“Yes, I do. Thank you, Mrs. Pettiford. I'll be there in about twenty minutes.”

“He'll be here in about twenty minutes, he said, and I want you to act like a woman and tell him whatever's on your mind. Hmmm. He's got an electrifying voice.”

Susan glared at her. “Really, Mom? How could you do such a thing? Well, nothing's on my mind.”

“Then it won't bother you if he and I have lunch together someplace, will it? At least you'll have a chance to tell him you met his father . . . before I tell him.”

“Mama, why are you doing this? You never meddled in my private affairs before.”

“I never saw you so far out of control that you lost two meals, either. I'm your mother. I've lived a long time, and I know that half your problem is guilt. You're so sure he wouldn't marry you, because he wants to be a father. Give him a chance to tell you that. If he loves you, he'll have a hard time doing it.”

Susan stared at her mother. “You believe you know what you're talking about, and maybe you do, but I'm definitely not counting on it.”

The door buzzer rang, and Betty Lou looked in that direction. “That's Lucas Hamilton, and what a specimen of a man! Answer the door, Susan. If I answer it, I'll bring him right on back here.”

Susan got up and went to the door. She had forgotten her mother's habit of straight shooting and, as she always said, of keeping her closets airy and clean. “Hi, Lucas. Mom's in the office.”

“Hello, Susan. I didn't come here to see your mother and she knows that, although I'll be glad to meet her. Has Social Services contacted you? I mailed the letter an hour after you left my office. It's been a week.”

“Thanks for writing the letter.”

“I've hardly slept since you ran out of my office without waiting to hear what I had to say.”

“You said you were sorry, and that about covered it. Look, Lucas, I don't want to seem rude, but I've a lot of work to do, and you want to open Hamilton Village I on this Saturday. Come meet my mother. I . . . uh, met your father at Enid's reception.”

“Yes, and it surprised him that you didn't mention to him that you knew me. I'd told him about you, although I didn't mention your name. He told me he'd met the woman who decorated Enid's house, and that she was an excellent decorator.”

“Mom was with me, and she requires more explanation than I wanted to give just then.”

Susan's mother stepped out of the office. “Mr. Hamilton, I'm Betty Lou Pettiford, and I am delighted to meet you. I met your father, and I don't have to tell you that seeing him is like looking at you.” She grasped his hand in a strong handshake. “I've heard good things about you.”

“Thank you. I'm glad for this opportunity to meet you, Mrs. Pettiford. If you have time, I'd like to show you Hamilton Village, a retirement complex that I've designed and the company I co-own is building. And if you could go over to Danville with me, I want to show you around some of my holdings in Jackson & Hamilton Enterprises.”

Susan gasped. “When did you change it from Jackson Enterprises?”

“Dad changed it, the day he turned it over to me. What do you say, Mrs. Pettiford?”

“I'm ready when you are, Mr. Hamilton.”

“I'd like you to call me Lucas.” He looked at Susan. “I'll take good care of her.”

“I know that, Lucas. I can't imagine you doing otherwise,” she said, and could have bitten her tongue. In those few words, she had just told her mother and Lucas what she thought of him.

“Thanks so much for your confidence,” he said without the semblance of a smile.

Betty Lou looked from one to the other. “If I didn't know better, I'd swear you two just met,” she said, in the tone of one who is disgusted and not bothering to hide it.

Lucas held the door for her and spoke softly, “You'd be nowhere near the truth.”

Susan closed the door and went back into her office. If Lucas wasn't interested in her, why would he go to such lengths in being gracious to her mother? The telephone rang, and she checked the caller ID display. Calvin Jackson. Why was he calling her?

Lucas drove Betty Lou first to Hamilton Village. He made no effort to hide his pride in what he had achieved there. “This is my friend and partner, Willis Carter. I'm the architect and he's the builder,” he said, introducing her as Susan's mother.

“And Susan decorates our model apartments,” Willis said. “They make a great team, Mrs. Pettiford, but something tells me right now that they're too stupid to accept that fact.”

Betty Lou eyed Willis. “I know she's being stupid, but I'm surprised at your suggestion that he”—she pointed to Lucas—“caught the same virus.”

Willis took Betty Lou's arm and walked down the hall, leaving Lucas alone. “Believe me, Mrs. Pettiford, Hamilton is a great guy. I've known him since he was eighteen, and this is the first time—”

Lucas caught up with them. “The first time I've considered murdering anyone, you were about to say, Willis?”

Willis winked at Betty Lou. “I'd better get back to work. See what you can do to straighten those two out, Mrs. Pettiford. It's been nice meeting you.”

“I expect we'll meet again,” she said, “and I'll look forward to it.”

She's very smooth, Lucas thought. Smooth, direct and plain spoken. He liked that, and he liked her. He took her to the eighth floor.

“Our model apartments are on this floor. Susan has decorated about three-fourths of them. When she finishes these, she'll do the same in the two other buildings. What do you think?”

“I knew she was good at this, and after seeing how she decorated your sister's house, I was convinced that she's above average. I like what I've seen here.”

“To say that Susan is an above average decorator is like saying that Mt. McKinley is a big hill.”

Betty Lou leaned against the side of a breakfront, folded her arms and looked at him. “Lucas, I can see that you're proud of Susan. I know why she behaves toward you as she does, and I've told her that I think she's being foolish. Work out your feelings about this before both of you are deeply hurt.”

He looked down at Betty Lou and failed in his attempt to smile. “What is behind all this? I know what she told me, and I believe her. Is there more?”

“She told you the facts; what she didn't do is explain her attitude. It's best you get that from her. I know you have mixed feelings, and you're entitled to have them, but if you don't come to terms with this one way or the other—”

“You don't have to tell me. Knowing how my parents suffered throughout my lifetime is lesson enough for me. How about lunch? A drive over to Danville takes about half an hour. After we eat, I can show you my set-up over there. Would you like that?”

“My day is in your hands, and I see that I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.”

He didn't want to discuss his relationship with Susan with her mother, but he sensed in her an ally, and he had a feeling that he was going to need one. “I appreciate your interest in this,” he said, “but I've learned that getting Susan to change her mind is almost like squeezing beet juice out of turnips.”

Betty Lou placed a hand on his arm, stopping him as he opened the door of his car for her. “What I get from you so far, Lucas, is that you love Susan, that you're in a dilemma, and that you need to talk with her. Right?”

“Right on all counts.”

“What do you think of her adopting Rudy?”

“She loves that little girl, and Rudy loves her. I wonder if having Rudy will be enough to make Susan happy.”

Betty Lou looked hard at him, and he could almost read her thoughts. She asked him, “Are you sure that isn't a question you're asking yourself?” He had no intention of replying to that question, and she didn't pressure him, but grasped his hand and held it. “You'll have my respect no matter what you do. I consider myself blessed to have met a thirty-five-year-old man of your caliber, and especially to have been introduced to him through my daughter. Now. Enough about Susan. Tell me about your Danville business.”

They ate lunch in what had become one of his favorite restaurants, and he told her about his work, his business and his life. Then, he took her to his Danville office. She stared up at that fifteen-story building that bore the name Jackson-Hamilton Building, in large letters. “Hmmm. Calvin Jackson definitely loves your mother and the child she bore him.”

“You're right. He does, and I'm only just learning how deeply.”

“Only those of us fortunate enough to love and to have been loved can truly understand it and its influences,” she said in a manner and tone that led him to realize that she had experienced both and perhaps deeply.

He introduced her to Miriam, his secretary, took her into his office, and told her, “My architectural and building interests are separate from this.” But he couldn't get Susan out of his thoughts. He walked over to the window and with his back to Betty Lou said, “If Susan separates Rudy and Nathan, she'll have a problem, because Rudy loves Nathan as much as she loves Susan. I hope she can see that.”

“Don't worry. That may take care of itself.” He turned and looked at her, hoping for an explanation, but she offered none. Instead she said, “I'd like to know the cost of that two-bedroom, den, dining room and living room apartment in Hamilton Village. I've been escaping reality with the Peace Corps in Africa ever since my husband died, and it's time I came home. I'm fifty-six.”

“What are you doing for the Peace Corps?”

“Lucas, I'm a graduate public health nurse, and I do everything there from teaching people how to brush their teeth to delivering babies and caring for people with AIDS. I never stop working, but I'm needed, and I don't have time to think about my loss.”

She had his undivided attention then. “Do you want to work here?”

“I have to work. I can't imagine sitting around doing nothing.”

“Would you work for me?”

She stared at him. “For you? I've never done clerical work, but—”

“I mean as a public health nurse. Hamilton Village is a retirement complex, and I intend to have a health service, dining room, and recreational facilities including a swimming pool on the grounds. It will be a gated community to ensure safety and the freedom of the residents to enjoy the grounds at all times.”

“Job or no job, I'm moving there. How do I get that apartment?”

“But I want you to run the health service, too. Willis said we have more than enough applications to fill the first building and most of the second one. I'll bring you the floor plans tomorrow. Take an apartment on a high floor, so that the trees won't eventually block your view. They grow fast, you know.”

“I don't need the floor plans. I want the apartment that has the living room decorated in avocado green and brown, and I want it on the ninth floor.”

“Good as done. Do I have a Public Health Nurse?”

“I'll have to give a couple of months notice.” She stood and stretched out her arms, as if to express her joy. “What a day this is! After procrastinating all these years, in less than an hour, I sat here and made up my mind to come back home. My children will be so happy.”

“And I got what I thought it would take me forever to find.” He walked over to shake her hand, but she enveloped him in a hug, and said, “Let's go. I can't wait to tell Susan. Who'd have thought I'd commit to do all this?”

And who would have thought I'd find myself in such a dilemma that I would use any excuse to avoid facing it and dealing with it? I don't want to duplicate my father's folly. But I need
—

“I'll take you home,” he said to Betty Lou, “but I'm not sure I want to go in. I don't handle rejection very well.”

“Nobody does, Lucas. But when you've lived as long as I have, you manage it.”

 

 

Sitting alone in the office at the rear of her shop, Susan was about to face a dilemma of her own. She stared at the caller ID screen on the telephone and let the phone continue to ring. Finally it stopped, and the caller, Calvin Jackson, did not leave a message. That meant he wouldn't take a chance on her not returning his call. For the third time since Lucas walked out of her shop with her mother, she pricked her finger with a needle and had to trim away the expensive fabric that bore the red evidence of her inattention. The phone rang again. Calvin Jackson. She lifted the receiver.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson. This is Susan Pettiford.”

“Thank you for taking the call, Ms. Pettiford.” Somehow, she suspected that he had tongue-in-cheek when he said that. “I'm thinking of having the executive suite in one of my office buildings redecorated, and I like your taste. Would you be willing to have a look at it and let me know whether you'd be willing to do it?”

“Why, uh . . . I'm honored, Mr. Jackson, but I've got a bit much on my plate right now. May I think about this overnight and call you back?”

“Of course you may, but I won't be satisfied unless you agree to do it. When may I expect to hear from you?”
A man who left nothing to chance and who would expect her to keep her word.
“Sometime tomorrow afternoon, sir.”

“I appreciate your considering this, and I look forward to speaking with you tomorrow. You still have my number?”

“Yes, sir. I have it, and I will call you tomorrow.”

She hung up and shook her head in wonder. A tidy sum that would net her, but something didn't ring right. If Lucas was owner and CEO of Jackson-Hamilton, how did Calvin Jackson get the authority to redecorate the executive suite of one of the office buildings?

“I'm not getting into that,” she told herself, but remembered immediately that she had promised to give the man an answer the next day. What would she tell him? She packed her briefcase, removed her smock, turned out the lights and was about to leave her office when the telephone rang.

“Susan, this is Mark. Can you get over to the Social Services agency in twenty minutes and bring some ID? Those people have no idea what they're doing, and if they louse up this time, I'm going to court.”

“What's up?”

“Just please hurry and meet me over there, Susan. I have to make a run for it.”

She reached the agency with five minutes to spare, and Mark rushed up to her. “Come with me, Susan. I don't want to give that woman an excuse to drag her feet another second.”

“Sorry. She's left for the day,” a secretary told them, “but you can go to the director's office three doors down. I imagine you're fed up with this, Ms. Pettiford. I know I would be.”

“I'm Mrs. Moody,” the director said. “Rudy's case worker has been assigned elsewhere in the system. I had no idea that this thing had dragged on so long. Do you want to change her last name?”

“That can be done later, if the child is willing,” Mark said.

“Sign here, Ms. Pettiford,” the director said, “and you may take Rudy home with you. I've sent someone to talk with her, and I'm told she's anxious to go with you but not happy to leave her friend, Nathan. I wish you luck. And thank you for making this child happy.”

Susan sat down and tried to breathe. She could hardly believe that, at last, Rudy was hers. With unsteady fingers, she signed the certificates, then wiped her wet face. “I . . . I've never been so happy in my life.” She shook hands with the woman and stood. For a minute, she thought the floor would come up to meet her, but Mark steadied her.

“Can I take her home now?”

“She's yours. Why not?”

She looked at Mark, certain that she seemed strange to him, because she didn't think she would recognize herself. “What will I do? I don't have any ice cream in my house, and Rudy loves ice cream.”

Mark's laughter helped her settle down. “In that case, you buy some. Every supermarket in Woodmore is open.”

“Okay. But I'd better get Rudy first. A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.”

When she arrived at Ann Price's house, she found Rudy sitting on her suitcase with Nathan beside her, his eyes red from crying. “Maybe you can let him go with her just for tonight,” Ann said. “I knew he'd be sad, but he's miserable.”

“If you don't mind, he can stay with me for a few days, Ann. I'll bring him back with me when I bring your laundry.”

Ann wiped her hands on the back of her pants, and she realized that her friend had also been crying. “You're still planning to do my laundry? With Rudy gone, I thought you wouldn't do that anymore. It's been such a great help.”

“I'm not a sometime friend, Ann.” What she didn't say was that she could afford to pay to have the laundry done. And that she would. “I'll bring my mom and the children to see you day after tomorrow.”

She didn't want Rudy and Nathan to share a room, so she put a folding cot in her den/office for him, moved her computer and drafting table into her bedroom, and left her mother in the guest room. “You two get acquainted with my mother while I make a phone call,” she said to the children.

Lucas answered on the second ring, and she knew that he wanted to hear from her. “Hello, Lucas, this is Susan.”

“Yes, I know, how are you?”

“I'm very happy. I have Rudy at home with me, and she's legally my daughter. I brought Nathan for a few days, because he was so unhappy when he learned she was leaving them. Lucas, I—”

“I can't tell you how happy I am for you. We have to celebrate.”

“Then, come over for supper. The children will be excited to see you. I'll figure out what I can scare up for us to eat.”