The House (20 page)

“Were you sincere in taking Edward back home to die? Or did you simply want to watch him suffer?”

Again Anna moved to leave. Inman missed catching her hand. When he arrived outside, she stood waiting to get into her car that the parking attendant had driven around.

“Anna.” He caught her shoulder as she moved to get inside. Anna turned around, and made to slap him. Again Inman caught her hand. He drew her near, settled his lips on hers. And there they lingered long and warm.?

Chapter 25

Hours later, Inman kissed her lips as he had done in the parking lot, and then her breasts. Anna lay in bed with Inman at his house in the hills high above the campus of UC Berkeley.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Inman touched his forefinger to her lips. Slowly she closed her eyes. He moved his lips to her stomach, abdomen, and womanhood. Anna lost track of her anger and vulnerability. She relaxed her head into the pillow. Inman eased his body on top of hers. The feel of his skin against her chest, as on so many occasions during the last six months, enlivened spaces left long dead by Edward’s absence.

Inman merged his body with hers. Slowly, carefully he entered the temple of her repose. Love, complete and pure, engulfed Anna. Long-erected barriers and defenses fell away. She forgot the pain of isolation. Anna’s yearning for things to be different with Edward seemed not to matter. The hope of what might have been had Ed ward touched her in all the right places, the fear of what could have occurred hours earlier—
We’ll get though this—
slipped underneath the fullness of Inman’s arms encompassing her.

Inman massaged the areas within Anna’s emotions that Elena had never caressed during Anna’s childhood. His lips reached into the forbidden places of Anna’s body, the tributaries feeding into her soul, places that Elena had taught Anna to scorn.

Men. They take everything, and give nothing.

Falling in love breaks your heart.

The best women live without them.

Never become dependent.

Men demand change from a penny. As far as love, well...

“Mama, do you love me?”

What is love?

The only thing you truly own is your mind ...

Anna opened her eyes and met Inman staring upon her. She had fallen asleep after their lovemaking.

“Do you love me?” She breathed in and held her breath.

“As much as you’ll let me.”

Anna turned her head upon the pillow. The twist of anguish on Inman’s face when she’d spoken harshly about Millicent formed in her mind.

Anna said, “I don’t hate my daughters-in-law.” Again, Inman seemed perturbed at Anna’s return to the subject of Theo’s wife. Of Heather, she said, “Believe me, I was as surprised as any black mother when David brought Heather home. I hadn’t counted on my sons, least of all David, being interested in a white girl. Perhaps Theo, but not David.

“What bothers you about Millicent being married to Theo?” In man directed the conversation back to the subject of Millicent.

“I don’t want my son hurt. Theo’s so much like me. He gives so much, too much. And Millicent, she’s a taker. She’s like her father. And Edward.”

“Theo is Edward’s child too.” Inman’s voice was kind and guiding.

“But, it’s people like Millicent, Thelonius, and Edward who run the world. They’re the ones who get what they want, no matter how they have to go about it, or who they have to step over.”

“And what is Millicent taking from you? What has she taken from Theo?” Inman said. “More importantly, when are you going to give yourself permission to have what you’ve always wanted?”

She looked to him. Their brown bodies were naked except for the sheets wrapping them in the darkness. Anna sat up. “I realize Millicent may just want to reconnect with her father,” she said. “But Theo is her husband. He wants to start a family.”

“Maybe Millicent is spending time with Thelonius trying to iron out their difficulties, at least some of them, before having her own children.”

“That’s how Theo says she explains it.”

“Perhaps that’s the way she intends it. Or at least that’s what she hopes time with Thelonius will yield.”

Anna wondered what Inman had surmised about Millicent’s difficulties with Thelonius. The death of Inman’s wife, who had abandoned him and their daughter appeared to have left father and daughter close. Inman spoke of Dancia with the care and concern of a loving father, but also with respect and admiration of the young woman she had become despite having one parent. Anna envied the closeness she sensed between Inman and his daughter. He seemed to know so much about women and their desires, especially Anna’s.

“Time with Thelonius doesn’t change what he did.”

“Then why did you bring Edward home to die? So that Serine won’t become like him, or you?”

Inman’s allegory left Anna dazed.?

Chapter 26

Anna returned to the house well past three in the morning. On entering the kitchen, she flipped on the light. David’s face came into view as her eyes adjusted to the brightness.

“Did you have a nice time with Aunt Elise?” he asked, his arms folded. Anna had told Linda she was going out to meet a friend. She had hoped Linda would assume the friend was Elise.

Anna removed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the faucet, her modus operandi when anxious and avoidant.

She had spent the last six, nearly seven hours with Inman, much of that time in his bed. The drive home had not provided sufficient transition. Drinking water gave her time to think, plan, and conjure a response.

David’s arms remained folded across his chest. “I don’t suppose your friend was Elise?”

“I’m still your mother, twenty-four years your senior,” Anna said then proceeded upstairs.

“Dad was calling for you in his sleep,” David said. Anna turned back. “I think he was having a bad dream.” David unfolded his arms and let them hang.

“What else did he say?”

“He just kept mumbling your name. Linda had given him some thing to help him sleep.”

Morphine. It’s happening.

“Moments later he cried out,” David said. “I went in and tried to wake him.”

Anna trembled. Dr. Grimes warned it would get messy. “How long has he been taking something to help him sleep?” she asked.

“The hospice worker left it. She showed Linda how to give the injection.”

“Linda needs her rest.” Anna again started for the steps. “She’s pregnant.”

“I’ve congratulated her. But you need your rest, too.” David followed her. “Linda and Brad are worried about you. So am I.” Anna turned back this time unable to avoid her eldest child’s gaze. “You don’t think Dad will want us to euthanize ..”

She covered her mouth to stop the tears. David drew near as if to take her into his arms. It was so unlike him. Awash in the shame of having been with Inman, Anna backed away and continued up stairs. Her face grew warm, began to burn as always when Anna felt bewildered, afraid, and guilty. Last embers of what she had shared with Inman—what had healed and assuaged her pain—fueled resentment of the dilemma she now faced.

Anna eased the door open and slipped into what used to be her and Edward’s bedroom. She lowered herself into the chair by the bed. Despite her sweater, she felt cold. Edward was asleep. He did not move. Pushing aside plaguing thoughts, Anna longed for the Edward Manning of the past. The one who had been strong and certain. Often she had wished a bit of his determination and potency to drain into her. During their lovemaking, Anna had been drawn, if not addicted, to the intensity of Edward’s thrust.

Edward had been nothing like Inman who was soft and never aggressive. Edward had been forceful, as if fleeing something, or parts of himself. The muscle of Edward’s soul coming through when he made love to Anna left her bruised. Or had it been love?

Anna drew the sweater tight around her shoulders. She leaned back and considered the ease with which she had received Inman hours earlier. Slowly she lowered her eyelids and recalled the emptiness that he had filled.?

Chapter 27

During the rise of his career, much of Edward’s work had taken him to South America where he had sold properties to Americans. One night, having returned from a two-week trip in Brazil, Edward arrived home from SFO past midnight. The children, ranging from ages twelve to six, had been in bed for hours.

Anna had served Edward filet mignon with pearl onions, asparagus, and wild rice, a far cry from the hotdogs and French fries she had fed the kids and the chicken she had eaten. Despite his repeated wishes for only a sandwich—she had kept his meal warm—Anna heaped large portions onto his plate. “It’s nice. But after eating all of this I won’t be able to get up tomorrow morning. Never mind the jet lag,” he complained. Anna hadn’t wanted Edward to go to work the next day. She wanted him to lie in bed while she drove the children to school, and then upon returning home, make love to her.

Anna, who had never traveled beyond the U.S., considered the women like Stella more beautiful and confident than she. Anna felt certain Stella’s sensuality and sexual appeal had attracted and kept Edward returning to her for six years. But with Edward now home and fed, Anna would make him happy. Her heart pounded that night as Edward removed her clothes. A mesmerizing heat bonded them. Glad to have him home, she had pushed back the thoughts of Stella, the Brazilian woman with whom she was certain he had been with while on his trip. Anna and Edward engaged in torrid sex, Edward pulling at her hair, Anna gripping and sticking her nails into the skin of his arms. It was almost masochistic. And then suddenly, Edward pushed her aside.

“I can’t do this.” He crawled from on top of her.

Anna sat up. Edward’s back was to her as he sat on the edge of the bed facing the door.

“I can do anything they can,” Anna said.

He tore his hand through his hair and sighed. “You’re not like them.”

“You don’t think I’m good enough?”

Edward stood and went to the bathroom. Anna restrained her self from following him. The shower went on. She lay back upon the pillow thinking of the madness in which they had been about to participate. If only he had given me a few more minutes, she thought.

Edward returned nude and dripping wet from having showered. His body, then cool, had smelled of Dial soap. His arousal lay at bay. She looked to his body, lean and trim, his manhood dead. Anna wished to revive it. She reached for his penis.

“You’re not that to me.” He brushed back her hand.

“I’m your wife.”

“You’re the mother of my children.”

“But I need love and everything you give Stella and the others,” Anna said.

“You don’t need that.” Edward’s words echoed through the darkness. It was as if he were a Greek deity come down from the heavens, the outline of his body distinct against the moonlight, and everything about him was exposed. And yet ... Again she reached for his penis. This time he grabbed her shoulders, and lifted her upon the bed.

“Life is filthy,” he whispered. Anna felt him resist her and his own needs. A tide of emotions flowed from his hands into her. She craved the hidden parts of him that he gave the women. “Not like this,” he said. “You’re better than them.” He pulled away.

“But, I’m your...”

She reached out. He was gone.

Anna laid in bed that night, darkness surrounding her as she wondered why Edward would not make love to her. With each child she gave birth to, Anna lost a piece of what had drawn her to Ed ward. He was stepping away and taking parts she could never re claim. Her hope for intimacy began to shrivel. Anna woke the next morning to an empty bed. Edward did not return for three days. She called the office each day with Philomena’s mother, Wyntonia, stating that Edward had not been in. When Anna called the third day of his absence, Wyntonia repeated what she had said on previous inquiries, this time adding, “I don’t know when he will arrive.”

Frustrated despite sensing that Wyntonia was tired of the phone calls, Anna blurted, “You’re his secretary. Don’t you know anything? How does he run a business like this. What do you tell his clients?”

“The same as I tell you,” Wyntonia said, then followed with a more piercing additive, “
They
seem to understand.”

“And just what is it that I’m to understand?”

Wyntonia’s sigh siphoned through the phone as if to say, Edward is not faithful. And most likely never will be.

Anna confronted him on his return the following day. “You’ve made me a laughing stock. Even your secretary sees me as—”

“Perhaps if you didn’t call so much,” Edward said. Again, he had arrived home long after the children had gone to bed. When they had asked about their father, Anna had as on other times, told them he had been delayed due to work.

He turned to Anna. “Don’t ever call my office again, not like that.” Edward had received Anna’s message. With the bottle opener, he flipped the cap from his beer. Liquid bubbled up and fizz drained down the sides of the green bottle. The bottle slipped through his fingers, hit the floor and shattered. “Damn!” Edward cursed.

“I was worried and didn’t know if you were okay, or whether the boyfriend or husband of any of those women had—”

“If I want you to know where I am, then I’ll tell you; otherwise—”

“Why can’t you be faithful?” Anna asked. “Am I not exciting? Am I
that
dull?” Edward silently removed his tee shirt, stepped out of his trousers, and was about to enter the shower. “Don’t you hear anything I’m saying? Don’t you care?” She walked to him as she had done three nights earlier. “Edward?”

“This is who I am.” He turned around and tapped his chest. “Well, why didn’t you say that before we married and had children?”

His eyes seemed to roar against the dim lighting of the bedroom lamp. “It was never my idea to have four children. One would have been enough.” He threw his hand. “But oh no, you kept wanting more. More.” He raised his voice, then mimicked Anna by speaking at a higher pitch. “Let’s have another child, Edward. Let’s have another. I want a little girl. Let’s try for a girl.”

Anna slapped him. Edward went to the bathroom, closed the door, and showered. Later, he eased into bed. Anna’s back was to him. He touched her shoulder. Anna resisted moving. She could not believe the level to which she had fallen. She
yearned,
was begging in her own feeble way, to be touched and held, for Edward to make love to her.

Casting your pearls before swine.

Waste not, want not. I hope you’re not pregnant.

Men never love a woman who is pregnant.

A mother can only bear children—never give love or receive it—at least not with the father of their children.

They give so little and steal our lives.

Men.

I am a servant of the Lord.

God is my lover.

Anna wondered what her mother had thought of the state of her marriage to Edward. While she had never raised the issue of Edward’s philandering with Elena, Anna was quite sure that, like Elijah, her mother, had been aware. Unable to stir the fires of passion between her and Edward, Anna chose to maintain herself and her children in financial comfort by remaining in a marriage where her husband engaged in behavior she considered pornographic with other women. Ignorant to the ways of the world, Anna longed for the intimacies she imagined Edward to have experienced with those women. Over time, Anna made the children her focus. She took refuge in the house in which Edward had placed her. The house was her mainstay, heaven on earth encased by the hell of her marriage.

Slivers of morning sunlight pierced the window shade. The clock read 6:00. Anna was sitting in the chair next to the bed where Ed ward lay. His breathing was calm and peaceful, unlike throughout their marriage wherein fits of anger seemed to direct his inhalations and breathing out. At times, he called out the names of the women with whom he shared himself in ways that Anna now realized even he abhorred.

What kept you at a distance? She wondered. Anna leaned for ward and touched his shoulder. Moments slipped by, his breathing remained calm. She removed her hand.

Anna leaned back, was about to close her eyes. Edward opened his. She could not avoid his gaze.

“What is it, I never understood. What did they have that I didn’t?” she whispered.

As if holding no answer to her question, Edward closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Once more, Anna pulled the sweater upon her shoulders, this time wishing to rent a hole in it with her nails. Instead, she let go. Anna closed her eyes. Hot tears seeped through and onto her face. She did not wipe them.?

Chapter 28

Anna had almost finished her coffee when David pulled out a chair and joined her at the kitchen table. “Has Dad said what he’s going to do with the business? He was the center of action at Manning Real Estate.”

“Bryce.” Anna thought aloud. “I haven’t talked to him since I first saw your father in the hospital.”

“He hasn’t called?” David asked.

“Bryce is going through his own turmoil and grieving. Your father was like his surrogate dad.”

“Do you have his number?” David seemed perturbed.

Anna went upstairs and pulled her cell phone from her purse. Back at the kitchen table, she scrolled through the list of names and numbers in the cell phone address book.

“Here it is, Bryce’s cell.” She recited the numbers. David wrote them down. As David lifted the cordless from its cradle on the counter by the range to dial Bryce, Anna slid open the glass door and stepped onto the patio. She considered Inman and the hours she had spent with him before returning home early that morning. Against Edward’s missive,
We’ll get through this
, Anna missed Inman.

David walked toward Anna, who was standing by the pool. He had ended his call with Bryce.

“Bryce says he’s spoken with Dad three times since he’s been home.”

“When? How?” Anna asked.

“He’s got his cell phone upstairs.”

“Your father was always a master at keeping things to himself.”
Hidden.
Anna simmered with annoyance at the memories.

“Bryce said he was waiting for you to call him,” David said. “He wants to meet with you, today if possible, at Scott’s.”

“Did you tell him that your father wants you to oversee the execution of the estate?”

“Yes.”

Anna’s mind flitted back to last evening and eating dinner with Inman. Memories of lying next to him, Inman making love to her swept across her thoughts. The essence of his passion swarmed through her and overshadowed the torrid memories of painful times with Edward. I’m behaving like Serine. She failed to dismiss the thought.