The House (2 page)

“I’ll speak with you in three and a half hours,” Henderson called out.

Anna left the building without looking back.?

Chapter 2

Anna entered Edward Manning’s office on Clay Street. His secretary, Philomena, was sitting behind her desk. “I need to speak with Edward,” Anna said.

“I’m not sure he’s in.” Anxiety filled Philomena’s cinnamon face.

“Don’t lie to me.” Anna had caught her skirting the truth of Ed ward’s whereabouts too many times. “I haven’t signed the divorce papers. I’m still Edward’s wife.” Anna placed her hand on Philomena’s desk. “I want to see h—”

“Edward’s gone for the day. I don’t know where he is.” Bryce Withers came up the hall. His Italian-cut suit, a dark shade of brown, displayed the nouveau sense of style he had adopted from Edward.

“I need to speak to him,” Anna demanded. “Where is he?”

“Is there anything wrong with the divorce documents? I think you’ll find that he’s been quite generous.”
Generous
was not the word. Edward had been
cooperative
, a quality he did not display regarding his marriage.

“I’d like to speak to him,” Anna repeated calmly.

“That won’t be possible. I’ll give him the message. Otherwise ... “ Bryce turned to leave. Fear toiled in Philomena’s dark, brown eyes. She gave Anna a knowing look. Philomena had inherited her position as Edward’s secretary from her mother, Wyntonia.

“If you don’t know where Edward is,” Anna called out to Bryce then halfway down the hall, “then how can you give him a message?” Anna walked toward him. “Either you know where he is, or you never plan to convey my message. In either case, you’re lying.”

A stern look gripped Bryce’s auburn face. In manners, he was a perfect David, loyal and firm. Yet if he were to raise his eyebrows, shift the arch of his nose, and add a smile, he’d be a perfect physical rendition of Theo, Anna and Edward’s second born. At thirty-five years old, Bryce Withers was two years older than David, and four years older than Theo. During a meeting four months earlier, Bryce had manhandled Edward into submission after Edward had lunged across the boardroom table and tried to punch Henderson. As always, the inciting factor had been Anna’s request not only for a divorce, but also her unrelenting determination to sell the house. She wanted no alimony, which Edward had offered, only proceeds from the sale of the house.

Bryce pocketed his hand. “Edward’s
my
client. I’m not required to tell you
anything.
”

“No you aren’t. But you and I know that the Edward Manning you represented today is not the person he was a month ago.”

Bryce’s eyes grew sullen and angry, eager to spill over. He was holding a secret and shouldering a burden too big for his ambition no matter how sincere. The consequences for telling what he knew far exceeded the toll it took to maintain his loyalty to Edward. Ed ward asked this of everyone who worked with him. He demanded it of his family, too.

Anna had been the main puppet in his stronghold. As such, she suffered the greatest casualty, that of losing her dignity and the ability to speak up for herself. She had almost forgotten that she too held desires and passions.

Bryce turned toward Edward’s office as if looking for an answer then went inside and closed the door.

Anna returned to Philomena. “Where did Bryce park his car?”

“Downstairs, in the garage.”

“Does he still drive that black BMW?”

Philomena nodded. Her nervous look was calling out for help. Edward had entangled her and Bryce in his web of deceit.

Anna drove to the garage’s entrance and turned off the engine. She was prepared to wait until three o’clock. However, moments later Bryce steered his black BMW sedan out of the garage.

Anna switched on her car and followed him to Highway 58o, and then onto the Warren Freeway. She became curious when he took the 51st Street exit and started up Martin Luther King Boulevard toward Berkeley. Edward had no contracts with properties in the City of Berkeley. He despised Berkeley for all its laws to create equality, appease residents, and control commercial encroachment. “It’s always about the citizens of Berkeley, never about the businesses. How do they think they’ll ever encourage growth?” Edward had always railed.

Moving at a comfortable speed, Anna’s intrigue changed to con fusion when Bryce turned onto Dwight Way. Anna had been certain Edward was some distance away. She followed Bryce through the intersection at Milvia. Slowing once more, he turned into the parking lot beside Hammond Hospital. Anna circled around the block to prevent him from seeing her.

Anna had delivered Edward’s four children at Hammond. During ensuing years, the hospital merged with Berkeley General. Hammond now housed a cancer treatment center on the first floor and a small mental hospital on the three floors above. Twice, Anna had admitted Linda, their third child, to the adolescent wing. Edward had traveled tremendously at the height of his real estate career, much of that time spent out of the country. At age fifteen, Linda, who was gifted with the ability to bring a violin to life, had needed both parents. She was sensitive and prone to depression that she ex pressed through intense irritability that bordered on violence. Linda directed her frustration toward Anna, and then at herself. Linda was also dyslexic. Lacking the ability to make straight A’s like her over achieving siblings—their way of compensating for Edward’s absences—Linda felt isolated. Nothing Anna offered could provide the balm that only Edward’s presence could mend. One weekend with Edward gone for nearly a month, and Anna questioning why she ever married him, Linda’s emotions spun out of control. She cut her left wrist, and then somehow managed to slit the other. For what would be the first of three times, Anna had rushed Linda to Hammond Hospital where she remained for over a month.

Inside the hospital, Anna went to the information desk. “I’m looking for a young man, shaved head, black. He’s wearing a tan suit and olive tie.”

“Try the clinic.” The young Korean receptionist pointed around the corner.

Inquiring of Bryce in the clinic, Anna learned from the nurse, “They’ve taken his father to the hospital.”

“His
father
?” Anna was stunned. Bryce’s father was dead, a fact that had drawn Bryce to work for Edward, who had become Bryce’s mentor.

“Are you the young man’s mother?” the nurse asked.

“Why, yes.” Anna gathered herself and furthered the interrogation. “Is Edward not doing well?” Anna took a chance and used Edward’s real name.

“Dr. Dana thought it best to admit him to Berkeley General.” The nurse looked puzzled.

Anna failed at all the rationalizations she tried forcing upon herself while driving from the cancer center at Hammond Hospital to Berkeley General. Steeped in uncertainty, she walked off the elevator onto the fifth floor of Berkeley General Hospital concerned and fearful. Had Bryce really come to see Edward? Perhaps Bryce was undergoing treatment, or maybe the nurse had been speaking about someone else, someone both he and Edward knew.

Anna walked to the nurses’ station. “I’m looking for Mr. Manning’s room, Edward Manning.” Everything inside her hoped the nurse would say there was no Edward Manning on the floor.

Instead the nurse said, “He’s at the end of the corridor. Last room on the right.”

Anna’s skin burned with fear and dread. Steadily she approached the door, her right hand clutching the strap of the purse hanging from her shoulder.

Her chest sank on hearing Edward’s voice. “Get the fuck out of here! I don’t want that shit. Get it away from me!”

“You’ve got to take this, Edward. Let them help you.” It was Bryce.

“I don’t have to let them do anything. And don’t try that
Edward
crap with me. It’s
Mr. Manning
to you. I’m old enough to be your old man.”

“You are old enough to be my father. That’s why—”

“Shut up and get the hell out of here.”

Anna forced herself toward the hospital room. Reaching the doorway, she edged inside. A second, more intense, wave of nausea overtook her. Edward was lying on the hospital bed, his eyes full of fear and anger at being unable to control the situation.

All heads turned to her. A moment of silence passed. Glancing back at Edward, Bryce moved to stand, then said to the nurse, “This is Mr. Manning’s wife.”

“Ex-wife,” Edward said as Anna flashed her palm to Bryce indicating for him to remain seated. “Anna is my ex-wife,” Edward finished.

The young nurse with cropped sandy hair smiled and extended her hand to Anna. “I’m Rachel, Mr. Manning’s nurse for this shift. I was helping him get settled.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Anna managed.

Rachel turned back to Edward, and said, “I’ll check on you later,” then left.

Awkwardness set in. Bryce was avoiding Anna’s gaze as she said to him, “Could I perhaps have a moment with my husband?”

Walking past her, he left, closing the door behind him.

Anna drew a chair to Edward’s bedside. Moments passed as she considered the nature of their situation. Barely able to keep track of her thoughts, her mind settled.

“When did you think I would find out? Better yet, when did you
want
me to find out?” she asked.

“Never, if I had my way.” Edward stared at the ceiling.

“Now that you
haven’t
told me, what can I do to help?”

“Nothing short of making my chemotherapy work. Or take this cancer out of me.” He turned to the window spanning the wall across the room.

“What are the doctors saying?”

“Six months, perhaps only three.”

Anna caught her breath and fought back tears. Fifteen months earlier she had filed for divorce. With their children educated, working, and three of them married, she had wanted nothing more to do with Edward and the life they had created. No more regretting that she had not applied to graduate school during her senior year in college, and had instead, married an up-and-coming real estate agent. That life was coming to an end, along with the hopes and wishes shattered by the disappointment of reality, and her new life was transitioning from wife to divorcée as Anna had configured.

“I’m sorry,” Anna said. “I never wanted it to be this way.

“Nor did I,” said Edward. “Neither did I.” He continued staring at the ceiling, Anna wanting to hold him and say all would be okay, and yet knowing that it would not.?

Chapter 3

Three hours had come and gone following her graduation from San Francisco State when Anna introduced Edward to her parents, Elena and Reverend Elijah Chason. The four had eaten dinner together; Anna to the right of her mother at one end, and Edward to the right of Reverend Elijah at the other end. Edward conversed about his work in real estate since graduating Cal Berkeley two years earlier. Elena had said little. Her sharp eyes remained perched upon Edward as if she were an eagle, and he a fish that she was about to swoop down upon, lift from the river, and devour.

Moments after Edward had left, Reverend Elijah retreated to the bedroom for prayer. Anna went to her mother who was sitting in the living room. Elena had been crocheting, her thin fingers moving smooth and meticulously. “I’m going back to San Francisco in the morning, to the courthouse,” Anna said. “I’m meeting Edward. We’re getting married.”

“I hope you’re not pregnant.” Elena’s fingers never slowed, her eyes remaining focused upon interweaving the strands of white and yellow yarn with her needle.

“Why would you think that?” Anna lowered herself onto the chair next to her mother. The clear plastic that covered the chair crackled underneath her. Plastic also covered the sofa and the chair on which Elena sat.

“We all need affection,” she said without looking up. “...
a show of love
.” Elena had no affection toward Elijah or Anna. Affection was a commonality that bound Anna to her father. Bitterness, anger, and resentment were cloaked in Elena’s commitment to God. Anna had experienced her mother through a veneer of austerity that was stitched together by axioms such as
Pride goeth before destruction. Godliness is next to cleanliness. To God be the Glory. For I am nothing.
Elena crinkled her forehead. “I just hope you didn’t marry for the sake of a child just to give a name to
someone
you hope will love you.”

Child
.
Someone
. Anna’s head spun with the words. That’s what she had been to her mother. She slid back in her chair. The plastic crackled once more.
Waste not, want not.

Elena continued weaving the yarn as Anna took in the ordered fashion of the room. The sepia-colored framed photo of Elena’s mother was at one end of the fireplace mantel and a photo of Reverend Elijah’s father at the other end. The oak floor, like the mantel, had been devoid of dust. The Bible had been carefully centered upon the coffee table.

Anna recalled meeting Edward. It had been mid-January 1971, nearly three years in the wake of Martin Luther King’s assassination, and for African Americans—a decade behind their Euro-American counterparts—the dawning of their sexual revolution during which they had been exploring the limits of their power. Twenty years old, Anna Nell Chason had been at a party hosted by a mutual friend when she caught Edward’s stolid gaze across the room. One year after graduating Cal Berkeley, he had seemed self-absorbed, held hostage by whatever imprisoned his thoughts. The loneliness Anna sensed enshrouding him had awakened her own hidden ache. She had wanted to heal him. Anna transferred her hopes and wishful desires of passion, the show of love she needed from Elena, to Ed ward whose financial ambitions burned with a fire that was lit by the poverty of spirit that also dwelled in Elena.