Once in a Lifetime (23 page)

“I don’t know what to tell her about Telford.”

Russ leaned against the banister and rested his right elbow on it. “When I was a kid, our mother fed us all kinds of untruths when it would have been easier to level with us. Dad was away from home, and she said he was off on a business trip. He called Telford and said he was in the hospital. It’s best to tell children the truth in words they can understand and accept.”

“Telford wanted to protect Tara from unhappiness about his condition.”

“Yeah, I know. He loves that little girl more than anybody, except maybe you. I’ll never understand it, but she’s crazy about him, too.”

“Neither do I, but he zonked both of us the minute we saw him.”

Russ’s face broke into a smile. “Well, what do you know?
And I always thought Drake was the lady-killer. Never can tell. I’ll look in on Telford, but I expect he’ll sleep for a while.”

Watching him take the steps two at a time, she wished Velma would have the good fortune to find a place in his heart. She walked back to her room, put on a smock and began to etch the features of the bust she’d hoped to finish that day, but she made so many mistakes that she wrapped it and put it away. Telford had admonished her to be straight with him, but with two strikes against her, being straight wasn’t enough. She needed to find Lawrence Duckwilder, but she didn’t have a computer, and if she went to Frederick or Baltimore while Telford was recuperating in bed, she’d send him the wrong signal. Maybe she could use Russ’s computer while he was at work. Telford would let her use his, but she couldn’t risk his getting up and peering over her shoulder.

She phoned Russ. “I need to look up something, but I can’t leave the house while Telford has to stay in bed. And I don’t want to disturb him. May I use your computer tomorrow? I won’t change any settings.”

“Uh… Sure. Log on to Mind Spring and use the password
hkeeper.
You got that? I’ll set it for you.”

She wrote it down. “Thanks, Russ. I appreciate it.” And while using the computer, she’d find a foundry close by that would cast in bronze the bust she was sculpting in clay.

The next morning, she gave Telford breakfast, and planned to spend a few minutes with him before starting her morning chores, but Telford had other ideas.

“Don’t do any chores.” When she insisted they had to be done, he countered, “I’m the boss, and I say don’t do any chores. Stay here with me.”

“What will Russ and Drake think when they come home and find their rooms just the way they left them? I’m sparing Henry because he’s looking after Tara.”

“They’ll think you were looking after me,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Besides, it won’t hurt ’em to straighten the sheets.”

“But all Russ needs is an excuse to revert to being sloppy. You’re being unreasonable.”

“Aw, sweetheart, I hate lying flat on my back like this. Now if you’d—”

“Don’t even think it, Telford. I am not getting in that bed with you. Henry would be scandalized if he came up here and… Besides, it would be indiscreet. Period.”

“Tantalizing thought, though, isn’t it?” he asked with a wide grin. “I can just see you teasing me, peeling off one thing after another till you get down to your shoes, and then crawling slowly between these sheets. A breathtaking
naked Maja
as beautiful as Goya’s painting.” The laughter seemed to stab him and he winced, but still he laughed. “Get as furious at me as you like, but I can dream, and that is one fantastic dream.”

She startled him with a kiss on the mouth and moved from his reach before he could react. “See you later.” It wasn’t difficult to see where Tara learned some of her traits.

She finished her morning chores, discussed the supper menu with Henry, went into Russ’s room and closed the door. He’d left the computer running, so that she wouldn’t have to figure out how to turn it on. She couldn’t find a Lawrence Duckwilder under the domain name. All right, so maybe he didn’t have a website. She typed in the name and hit the search button. No luck.

“I’m not going about this correctly,” she said. “I’m wasting time.” She found the names of three foundries within a reasonable distance, made a note of them and logged off.

She reached the bottom of the stairs as the phone rang. “Harrington House.”

“Hi. This is Velma. Just wanted to let you know I’m in Detroit, and it’s cold. I’ve gotta go out and buy a couple of warm sweaters. Danged if I’ll buy an overcoat.”

“With your raincoat, two good sweaters ought to be enough.” She told her about Telford’s encounter with the three thugs.

“Good Lord. You need me, and I’m stuck here in Detroit.”

“He’s getting on fine.” She remembered Velma having
said that half the members of her nutrition classes in graduate school were doctors. “If you wanted to find a doctor, and you didn’t know where in the United States he was, where would you look first?”

“The American Medical Association and the National Medical Association. Every African-American doctor belongs to the NMA, and most also belong to the AMA.”

“Thanks. By the way, Russ has a birthday coming up— December the first.”

“Whatta you know! I’ll send him a strand of my hair.”

Alexis’s lower lip dropped. “You’ll what?”

“Just kidding. I’ll let him know I remember it. A Sagittarian, eh? Hmmm. Lover boy. I’ll have to rethink him.” Her laughter rolled through the wires. “Trouble is, if you slip up with one of those brothers, you’ve had it. No second chance. Still…”

“Rethink him?” At times, Alexis forgot how much she enjoyed her sister, so full of wit, fun and pranks. “Velma, you’re full of it, but you’re the top. I gotta go check out these medical associations. Give me your phone number.” She wrote it down. “Thanks, I’ll call. Bye.”

She went back to Russ’s room, logged on to the computer, searched the NMA site, noted the contact for information and hung up. She tiptoed into Telford’s room and found him asleep. An hour later, she knew that a Dr. L. T. Duckwilder lived in Oakland, an L. O. Duckwilder in Nashville and an L. Duckwilder in Boston. She went back to the computer and checked the internet yellow pages for addresses and biographical sources. By two o’clock she knew that the Lawrence Duckwilder who lived in Nashville had graduated from Howard University School of Medicine, class of 1996.
Bingo!

When she attempted to write down his street and email addresses, her fingers shook so badly that she couldn’t recognize her writing. Her breath seemed to clog her throat as sheer black fright swept through her. She dreaded what came next, but she saw no alternative.

I’
m sick of this bed, and I’m getting up.
But just as he made up his mind to test his strength, he heard footsteps that could only belong to Tara. So he pulled himself up in bed, though not without more effort than he anticipated, and drew the sheet up to his neck.

She knocked twice and called him. “Mr. Telford, I wanna come in.”

When he answered, she rushed in and dashed over to his bed. “Mr. Russ said you had a accident, but you weren’t too bad. Are you too bad?”

He hadn’t realized how much he missed her. “No, I’m not. But I had to rest and be quiet. Have you been practicing?”

She braced both elbows on the bed, cupped her chin with her hands and nodded. “Every day. Mr. Henry and my mummy said I couldn’t come see you, ’cause you had to rest.”

What he wouldn’t give to hug her. She wanted him to know that she would have come to see him if she’d been allowed to do so. “I know you wanted to come see me, but I was supposed to be quiet. Where’s your mother?”

A grin spread over her face and she leaned toward him, obviously about to share a secret, and whispered. “Mummy’s doing her scupter. She thinks I’m in the room.”

He didn’t want to encourage Tara to disobey Alexis, and he had to fight hard to stifle the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. “The word is sculp-ture.” He pronounced it slowly.

Suddenly, she raised herself up on the bed, kissed his cheek and scampered down so fast that he nearly missed it. “I’ll be back,” she whispered and ran out of the room.

How he adored that precious little girl! He turned on his side and, with his left elbow on the bed, propped himself up and braced his head with his left hand. Alexis and Tara. Tara and Alexis. His world. He threw back the covers, gripped the headboard and stood up. Spots flashed before his eyes, dizzying him, but he took as deep a breath as he could and drew himself up to his full height of six feet four inches. The longer he stayed in that bed, the longer he’d have to. He left his bedroom door open, made his way carefully to the bathroom, turned on the shower and let the warm water stream over him. One of life’s true luxuries.

With effort, he dried off, pinned a towel around the wet bandage, dressed and stretched out on the bed. Alexis had implied that they’d talk after he recovered. As far as he was concerned, that was now.

Alexis wasn’t thinking along those lines, however. Her thoughts were occupied with ways of getting to and from Nashville, Tennessee, without creating suspicion. She didn’t think a telephone call would gain her more than a polite turn-down. If Melanie wanted to be found, she would have written or called her parents or her brothers. After checking her funds, Alexis decided to ask Telford to let her take her two days off consecutively. Instead of Thursday and Sunday, her usual free time, she’d ask for Thursday and Friday. However, that would pique his curiosity, so she’d have to tell the truth: she was trying to solve a personal problem, and she would discuss it with him as soon as she could.

“When do you want to leave?” he asked her, several days later when, after deciding the course she’d take, she told him what she wanted to do. Nothing in his demeanor betrayed his thoughts.

“I was thinking about next Thursday, but I’m not yet sure that’s the best time for me to go.”

“All right. When you’re ready to make plans, let me know. Will you take Tara with you?”

She glanced down at her hands, unsteady and thus incriminating. But to her relief, his gaze didn’t move from her face. “I hadn’t gotten that far, but I guess it would be simpler if I didn’t have to, and I don’t want her to miss school.”

“Lay out what she’s to wear each day, and I’ll take care of her. One thing: Is this trip aimed at getting things straight between you and me?”

She nodded. “I’m hoping that…that it will help us reach an understanding.”

“If you need any money for hotel and transportation, I’ll be glad to spring for it.”

“Thanks, but I’ve saved some money since I came here. I can handle that. One more thing: Jack wants to visit Tara, but I didn’t think it wise for him to come here while you’re still recovering. Jack’s unpredictable.”

“Maybe, but I doubt he’s fool enough to take me on whether I’m well or not.”

A half laugh slipped from her lips. “Unfortunately, he is. He’ll probably want to come next Friday, and I may not be here.”

The frown that darkened his face reflected more than puzzlement, and she knew as much. “The guy’s been here once in the almost seven months you’ve been here. What’s his hurry? If he really wants to see Tara, he won’t care whether you’re here or not.”

“My sentiments precisely.”

“Whatever you do, I’m with you. You understand what I’m saying?”

She reached toward him, but withdrew her hand.
I can’t let
him think I’m looking for someone to lean on, because I’m not.
But when he narrowed his eyes, obviously drawing the wrong conclusion, she grasped his hand.

“This isn’t a time for second-guessing, Telford, because I’m finding my way as I go. Right now, I’m slightly preoccupied with what my next step will be.”

He appeared to release a lot of tension. “I’m not in this because I’m bored and don’t have anything else to do. I believe you’re straight with me, but I need the answer to two questions: Is your divorce final, and does Jack Stevenson have any hold on you?”

“My divorce has been final for three years, and Jack has remarried. I don’t owe him anything and don’t want anything from him. Believe me, if he wasn’t Tara’s father, he wouldn’t know where the dust on my shoes came from.”

“So you feel nothing for him.”

“Not even pity.”

At the airport, Telford held her hand until they reached the security checkpoint, and he couldn’t go any farther with her. He moved to the wall, dropped her carry-on luggage and grasped both of her shoulders. “Call me if you need me.”

His fingers pressed into her flesh, and his lips on hers jolted her senses. She parted her lips, but he didn’t accept the invitation. Instead, he picked up her bag and put it on the conveyer.

“See you Sunday.” With that, he strode off.

During her life, she’d treaded rough waters and weathered a lot of storms. None of it had frightened her. But as the plane landed at Nashville International Airport, her nerves fought a war among themselves, sending tremor after tremor shooting through her body. She closed her eyes and slowly repeated “Tara and Telford” over and over. Still, her stomach rolled like a ship on a turbulent ocean.

Get a grip on yourself, girl. Don’t lose your cool.
By the time she checked into the Marriott Courtyard, she’d forced
her nerves to settle down. “I’m not drawing this out,” she told herself, as she sat on the edge of the bed and dialed Baptist Hospital.

“Doctor Duckwilder gives physical therapy from ten to twelve on Wednesday and Saturday mornings,” the cheerful voice drawled. “If you need individual attention, call his office at…”

Alexis hung up after verifying the information she’d gotten in Eagle Park, and at ten o’clock the next morning stood at the information booth in Baptist Hospital.

“Why, yes, Ms. Brighton, I have your reservation right here. Just sign this.”

She’d used her maiden name in order to hide her identity and prevent Duckwilder from excluding her. Needing a medical reason for taking the therapy, she told the truth, that she had sustained a whiplash some time back, and that after long periods of sculpting, fatigue set in.

His piercing gaze darted to her from time to time as if verifying a flash of recognition. At the end of the period, Alexis detained the doctor.

“May I speak with you privately?”

Displaying genteel Southern manners, he smiled. “Yes. What may I do for you?”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve been years getting to this point, Doctor, and what I’m about to say concerns something that has kept me awake many nights…and for years.”

His eyes widened, and she thought she detected a look of recognition in them. “Perhaps we’d better go into my office.”

Once there, he closed the door, and his hand lingered on the knob for a while, almost as if he feared releasing it. “Have a seat.”

The ball was in her court. “Thank you. I hope you’ll hear me out before you decide anything.”

She could see from his expression that he knew what was coming and that, like a cornered man who’d been on the lam for years, he was tired of running from his demons.

“My real name is Alexis Stevenson.” He gulped and his Adam’s apple bobbled furiously, but she plunged on. “I’m the teacher who gave Melanie Krenner the failing grade that prevented her graduation from State U. I followed school rules and wouldn’t change the grade. Recently, I’ve come to know her father, and—”

He sprang forward. “Is he… Is anything wrong with him?”

Her heartbeat returned to normal. This was indeed the man she sought. “Only that, after all this time, he is still dying of a broken heart. A few weeks ago, he went back to State U to try and trace her, but got nowhere. I used a different route and learned about you and your connection to her. Is she well?”

He nodded slowly, stood, locked his hands behind him and began pacing the floor. She didn’t say anything more, just waited. Finally, he stopped in front of her.

“After months and months of pleading with her to call her folks, I stopped pestering her about it. Her father mortgaged their home to send her to college, and she fooled around and flunked out. At first she was just scared, but as time went on and she began to accept responsibility for what she’d done, she became ashamed. She misses her parents and her brothers, but she’s petrified at the thought of facing them.”

“Maybe if I talk with her, tell her about her father, how he looks and how he and her mother long to see her, she’ll change her mind.”

He started pacing again, this time with faster steps, no doubt nervous and indecisive. Her own nerves laid siege on her body, and she silently repeated the rhythmic phrases of Poe’s poem, “The Raven,” a nerve-calming trick she learned when Jack would stay out all night.

After what seemed like hours, though it was barely more than a minute, he stopped pacing. “I’ll leave here about six today. If you’ll give me the name of your hotel, I’ll stop by for you at about six-thirty.”

She gave him the name and phone number of the hotel, aware that she had no choice but to trust him. As she walked
to the door, a thought occurred to her, and she stopped and turned around. “Does your wife like surprise guests?”

He reached past her for the doorknob. “I’ll phone Melanie and tell her I’m bringing a guest for supper. And, no, siree, she does not like for me to surprise her with a mouth she hadn’t planned on feeding.”

He’d answered the question foremost in her thoughts. Melanie was his wife, and as long as he practiced medicine Alexis would be able to trace them. Nonetheless, that knowledge wasn’t sufficient to banish her anxiety. No matter what happened that evening, she’d go back to Eagle Park with some good news, but she wanted to be able to tell Allen Krenner that Melanie would telephone him and that she would visit him soon. That was her goal. So she left the hospital less wary of failure, but too familiar with disappointment to let herself feel ebullient.

Finding a way to pass the next six hours proved a trial. After wandering around midtown for an hour, she boarded a little red trolley for a short sightseeing trip, walked through a crowded mall, bought a bag of boiled peanuts and went back to the Marriott Courtyard.

Dressed in a nonthreatening Dior blue woolen suit, she waited for Lawrence Duckwilder in the hotel lobby while marbles scrambled for space in her belly. Aware that, even then, he could be hiding Melanie. Though the lobby was barely warm, perspiration forced her to remove her coat.

“I hope you haven’t waited too long.”

Her head snapped up, and relief flowed over her, palpable in its significance. “Why, no. Thank you. You’re right on time.”

He drove away from the city’s center, and took her past rows of elegant homes all of which belonged to African-Americans. The Cadillac Seville came to a halt in front of a pale gray, two-story stone house, modern in design and set far back from the street. Elegant by any measure.

“Here we are,” he said, as if aware that she’d expected less.

Her first thoughts were that no one would willingly give up a place such as that one and that Melanie wouldn’t force Lawrence to move away simply to avoid her family. If for no other reason, Allen Krenner would get his daughter back.

She missed a step, and he grasped her arm. “You all right?”

“I guess. You told Melanie to expect company, but you didn’t tell her to expect
me.
”

“If I had, she’d have worn herself into a frazzle by now.” He shrugged. “She might even have disappeared.”

She recognized Melanie at once, even with the glasses, though she was obviously more mature than in her college days. A petite woman with smooth dark skin and short, natural hair.

Lawrence Duckwilder hugged his wife and kept an arm tight around her in a gesture of protection. “Melanie, this is Ms. Stevenson. Remember her?”

Melanie gasped and clutched at her chest. “Steady, honey,” he said. “It’s all right. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you, but I’m glad she came. I can’t begin to tell you had glad I am.”

“Hello, Melanie. Do you mind if we…talk a little? I have some news for you.”

“Come on in,” Melanie said. “You’re the last person I was expecting. I fixed supper. Hope you haven’t eaten.”

Nervous chatter, but Alexis understood that the woman couldn’t help being disconcerted, and she wondered if, in similar circumstances, she would have been as polite or as self-possessed.

“She’s in contact with your folks,” Lawrence said, as they began the meal.

Melanie’s lower lip dropped, and she gripped the edge of the table. “Is there… Are they—”

“They’re fine, all of them,” Alexis said, “at least insofar as their health is concerned. I’ve only met your father, and he’s the reason I’m here.”

Melanie glanced at her husband before fixing her gaze on Alexis. “What is it, Mrs. Stevenson?”