Whatever It Takes (34 page)

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Authors: Gwynne Forster

BOOK: Whatever It Takes
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“No problem,” she said, and Mabel's faced twisted into a frown. “You don't mind?”
Kellie realized then that she was treating Mabel as she did Hal and reversed herself a little. “It can't be so long that I'll miss my morning coffee. Let's see it.” She looked at the short manuscript. “I wouldn't need but fifteen minutes if you had ever learned to write.”
As if relieved to have the old Kellie with her, Mabel smiled. “For a minute there, I was afraid you'd gotten docile. You watch it, girl.”
Yeah. No matter how she sliced it, she had hills to climb.
 
 
“Tired as I am, if I could afford to do it, I'd cancel this date,” Lacette said to herself two days earlier as she headed for Baltimore. But if she was going to succeed, she needed customers outside of Frederick. Higher education was a thing she understood, and she knew she could help that university increase its student body and attract more corporate support. She made her pitch to the university's Board of Regents, the provost and the president and expected to hear the words, “We'll let you know.” Instead, one of the regents invited her to lunch, after which she returned with him for a continuation of the morning meeting.
“We believe you can do the job,” the president told her. “We know you can't accomplish what we need in a year, so we're offering you a three year contract, and we'll give you the budget you asked for, but no more.”
She signed the contract, shook hands with those present and left. In her excitement, she forgot that she was almost too exhausted to drive.
“Thank God I got back here safely.” She breathed the words silently as she parked in front of her house. “I'll put the car in the garage later,” she told herself. Inside the house, she kicked off her shoes, stretched out on the living room sofa and went to sleep. She awakened to hear the telephone ringing, looked at her watch and realized that she had slept almost four hours.
“Say, were you asleep? It's only nine o'clock.”
“Hi, Daddy. I was just snoozing. I had planned to stop by Kellie's office today, but I had to go to Baltimore, and I didn't get home till five. Daddy, I got the contract, and I'm going to put that university on the map. They gave me a nice budget, and I can do it.”
“Of course you can. I don't know when I've heard such good news. Don't forget the Lord while you're swimming in your success. You hear?”
“Yes, sir. I'm going to drop in on Kellie tomorrow morning before I go to work.”
“Call me after you leave her. I expect she's all right, but I need to know for sure.”
She made two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, got a glass of milk, took the food to the living room and turned on the television. “Oh, dear,” she said when she remembered that she promised Douglas she would call him when she got back from Baltimore. She ate one of the sandwiches, drank some of the milk and dialed his number.
“Hi,” he said after she greeted him. “When the phone rang, I swore that if it wasn't you, I was going to report you as missing. How did it go?”
“I got the contract.”
“Congratulations. That's worth a celebration. If it wasn't so late, I'd invite myself over. I have some news, too. I now possess a house and a mortgage. Want to help me choose some furniture?”
“I'm glad you bought that house. It's a great environment for a young boy.”
“Thanks. If you don't help me, I'll have to hire a decorator.”
She didn't ask him the questions that came to her mind, such as why did you want my opinion on the house, my advice about its furnishings, and why do you want me to love your son? “Don't make me laugh,” she said. “I can't imagine you handing your house over to a decorator. I'll help, but I warn you my tastes run to dark woods and earth colors.”
“Mine, too. I'd like to start the landscaping on your house tomorrow after I leave the hotel. Will that suit you?”
“Of course. Buy whatever you need and give me the bill.”
“See you at lunch tomorrow. Sleep well.” He hung up, and she knew he probably wouldn't accept the money.
 
 
The next morning, Lacette left home half an hour earlier, drove to within a block of City Hall and parked. She walked across the park, inhaling the sweet scent of flowering hyacinths, freshly mowed grass and the young tree leaves still damp with early morning dew. She strode past the fountain that formed a centerpiece for the Federal buildings that surrounded it, many of them—built by the English and German settlers who founded Frederick in 1745—relics of a pre-Revolutionary War era.
“Hi, Herman,” she said to the building guard, “I just want to see Kellie for a few minutes.”
“Sure, Lacette. How's your new business going?” He handed her a pass.
“Great, so far. Thanks for the pass.”
In different circumstances, she would have told her sister that she planned to stop by the place where she worked, but these were not normal circumstances. For her parents' sake as well as her own, she had to know whether Kellie was all right and whether Hal Fayson had coerced Kellie into living with him.
Before she could speak, Kellie glanced up from her computer, saw her and gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Lacette dragged a chair from a desk nearby and sat down. “I want your address and home telephone number,” she whispered. “And I want to know if you're all right and whether you need anything.”
“I'm not supposed to have visitors here, Lacette.”
“Then, give me that information, and I'll leave. If you mislead me, I'll be right back here tomorrow morning.”
She wrote the address and apartment number. “We don't have a phone yet. Lacette, please don't come there. Hal won't like it. You'll make things difficult for me. Don't worry. I went with him, because I can't stay away from him. That's all.”
“I'm sorry. Thanks for this.” She put the paper in her briefcase, leaned over and kissed Kellie's cheek and, to her amazement, Kellie didn't shrink away from her gesture of affection as she usually did. She hoped that meant something, that this blood sister who almost never expressed genuine affection had learned to
feel
for others.
“Now go. I don't want to get fired.”
Chapter Twelve
My sister's living half a block from the railroad in a city housing project. And how did that scoundrel manage to get an apartment in the projects? The worst part of it is that she is not happy. She's scared of him. I can't tell Mama that.
She called her father and gave him the address. “She said we shouldn't visit her. That's all I know, Daddy.”
“Hogwash! I'll visit my daughter whenever I please, and that little snipe had better not lay a hand on her, or he'll hear from me.” And he would, too, she knew, no matter what Hal Fayson said or did.
Telling her mother what she'd learned proved more difficult, for her mother reacted with tears and self-accusations. “It's all my fault. I coddled her and stood between her and your father when he wanted to discipline her. You mean she's living with him because she couldn't stay away from him? My Lord! He'll treat her like dirt. I can tell you that from . . .” she didn't finish it, and she needn't have.
Lacette managed to close the conversation without revealing her understanding of what her mother had left unsaid. However, the idea that you risked your marriage for a tryst with a man who subsequently mistreated you caused her to wonder about her mother's judgment.
Maybe judgment has nothing to do with it.
“I'll have Nick with me this weekend,” Douglas told her while they ate lunch at her desk. “He wants a place on his school's spelling team, and he wants coaching. I can't leave that to my parents, because it's my job. Dad will bring him Friday afternoon.”
She didn't want to offer, but she knew she should. “He can hang out with me Saturday till you get off from work. I can test his spelling, if he'll let me.”
His hand remained suspended over the bowl of potato salad while she spoke, as if hearing her words immobilized him. “You'd do that?”
Her easy shrug belied her concern. “It's important to you.”
He spoke as if his thoughts were far away. “Yes, it is, and I appreciate the offer.” She couldn't help wondering about the thoughts he didn't express.
The week sped by much faster than she wanted it to. On Thursday night, she went with Douglas to shop for furniture, and learned that he liked to sleep in a king-size sleigh bed. They chose one along with several matching chests as well as furnishings for the bedroom that his son would use.
“As soon as I get the house halfway decent, Nick's coming to live with me. School's out in May, and I hope to have it ready by then.”
“Why does the house have to be in perfect order? He's your son, and he should accept what you can give him.”
“Yes, and that is the way I've tried to raise him, but I want his standards to be as high as mine; I don't want him to settle for second best, not in anything and not ever. We could fix it up together, you say, but it's the first house I have owned. When I was married, I rented an apartment; since I've been widowed, we lived with my parents for Nick's benefit. It's the psychology of the thing that concerns me.” He looked hard at her. “I wouldn't take you into a half-furnished house.”
“Why not? We could furnish it together.”
He shook his head. “A man is supposed to provide shelter for his family. Old-fashioned, perhaps, but that's the way I was raised.”
Around six on Friday, Douglas telephoned her. “Nick's here. Would you like to have dinner with us? I thought we'd go to Benz Street Raw Bar. You like crabs, Nick likes barbecue, and I'm in the mood for a steak.”
She had to know where she stood. “Is he going to let me help him with his spelling?”
“Here he is. Ask him.”
It was his good fortune that more than a mile separated them. “Hello, Nick,” she said. “What time are you coming over tomorrow?”
“Hi, Lacette. What time do you eat breakfast? I can come then.”
She held the receiver at arms length and looked at it. This kid was a modern Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. “About nine. What do you like for breakfast?”
“Anything you cook except oatmeal. I'll help clean up the kitchen, and then we can start with my spelling. Okay?”
She realized that he couldn't see her nodding her head, so she made herself say, “That's fine. I'm looking forward to seeing you, Nick.”
“Me, too, Lacette.”
She hung up, put both hands on her hips, looked toward the ceiling and said, “Well, I'll be damned!”
Nick's pleasant and subdued behavior during dinner with her and Douglas that Friday night gave her hope that she hadn't bargained with the devil for nine hours of hell on Saturday. True to his word, Nick put their breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned the pots and pans in which she'd cooked grits, sausage, eggs and fried apples and left the kitchen counters neat and tidy.
“You're very good at this,” she said.
“I used to hate doing it, but when I saw how happy I made Nana when I did it right, I got so I didn't mind it.” He looked at her. “My dad can do this, too.”
Still perplexed at his about-face, she decided that he'd have an answer for it, leaned against the refrigerator and asked him, “Nick, the last time we were together in Hagerstown, I decided that you didn't like me, and you didn't. What happened? I mean you're as charming and gracious and anyone could be. What made you change?”
He looked her in the eye. “My dad said you volunteered to help me study for the spelling team. He said he was shocked that you wanted to help me after the way I acted. I don't usually act like that, Lacette.”
“I know that. Don't worry about it, you and I are going to get along great. Have you been spelling aloud?”
His face creased in smiles, his relief honest and open, apparently because he realized that she didn't hold his bad behavior against him. “All the time. Shouldn't I?”
“That's one way to spell, but let's mix it up. I'll read the words to you and you write them. In that way, you'll get used to seeing them and when you have to spell a word, you will visualize it. Okay?”
“Cool.” He took the tablet and pen that she handed him. “Gee, Lacette, you don't know how bad I want to make the team. I want it worse than anything I ever wanted. I didn't tell my dad, cause if I don't make it, he'll feel awful.”
There was hope for them, she realized, for he had confided to her what he had withheld from his father. She took the liberty of stroking his shoulder and was relieved to see that he didn't mind. “In this life, Nick, we are only required to do our best, and that's what you're aiming for.”
She began to read. “Circle . . .” He raised his head and looked at her as if she thought him an idiot, but she ignored him and continued. “Circumference, circumambient, circumstantiate—”
“Oh! I get it. Cool.”
At about ten-thirty, the telephone rang. “Excuse me for a minute,” she said to him. “Hello.”
“Hi. This is Douglas. How's it going? Are the two of you getting along?” She detected the anxiety in his voice, and it didn't surprise her for she knew how badly he wanted them to like each other. “Like peas in a pod. You wouldn't believe it.”
She heard him exhale a deep breath. “Thank God. I've been so worried that I've hardly been able to work. I'm going to bring lunch around twelve-thirty. See you then.” She told him good-bye and returned to Nick.
“Was that my dad?”
“Yes. He's bringing us lunch at twelve-thirty.”
“He'll be right on time, too, so we'd better get busy.”
 
 
Whatever he had expected, it was not that his son would be gracious to Lacette. He hoped she hadn't exaggerated how she and Nick were getting along. He had wanted to leave them alone together for a lengthy period, and the spelling bee proved opportune. When she volunteered, he scotched his plans to find a substitute for the florist shop and take the day off to tutor Nick. At twelve-thirty he parked in front of Lacette's house, got the food and had started up the walk when Nick dashed out of the front door.
“I'm doing great, Dad. Lacette throws all those big words at me, and I have to write them down. She's real nice, Dad. I'm sorry I was such a nerd, but she acts like she doesn't remember it.” He took one of the bags from his father. “And she cooked me a breakfast that was the bomb.”
“She remembers your bad behavior, Nick, but she has forgiven you. I'm happy that you like her, because she's very important to me.”
Nicked pushed open the door as if he had a right to do it. “Yeah. I know she is, Dad.”
To make certain that Nick understood his relationship with Lacette, he dropped the bag of food on the floor, folded her in his arms and bent to her lips. The hunger that seared his insides stunned him, and he released her quickly before looking around to see his son's reaction.
“Want me to set the table, Lacette? Nana taught me how.”
“Thanks. I'll help you.”
He waved a hand at her. “Oh, you don't have to. You can talk to Dad.”
Douglas looked down at her. “I don't believe this. I'm sound asleep.” Her laughter rang with pure happiness, and he pulled her back into his arms.
“I believe in telling it like it is,” she said, “so I asked him what accounted for his changed attitude toward me. He said in effect that I shamed him when I volunteered to help him win a spot on the school's spelling team. Made sense, too. But I can tell you I was expecting nine hours of torture.”
He couldn't have kept the smile from his face if his life depended on it. “I was feeling the same.” He gazed at her and felt himself immersed in her sweetness. “I need some time with you. Can we be together Sunday night?”
“I'd like that. Come over about seven, and we can have dinner here.”
“I'll look forward to it.”
 
 
At about that time, Marshall got into his car and headed for the address that Kellie gave to Lacette. “I'd better not park in front of that building,” he said to himself. “If they see this car, they won't open the door.” He parked the Cadillac around the corner and set out for the building, picking his way among broken bottles, pieces of brick, empty cans and assorted other rubbish. The wind blew a dirty rag and a greasy brown paper bag against his legs as he walked. He had expected the hallway of the building to be filthy, and was happy to discover that it was clean. He knocked on the door and stepped aside to prevent being recognized through the peephole.
Hal opened the door without asking who knocked, and when he saw him, attempted to shut it. Marshall was closing in on sixty, but he didn't drink, he went to bed early and took his daily walks, and he knew that, even at forty, a man who spent hours sitting on his sofa drinking beer and watching TV couldn't match him in strength and agility. He stopped the door with his left foot.
“I came to see my daughter, and I'm not leaving until I do.”
“She ain't here.”
“No? Then you can entertain me until she comes back, no matter how long that proves to be.”
“Who is it, Hal?” Kellie called.
He glared at Hal and brushed past him. “It's your father,” he said and took the seat in front of the TV that he was sure Hal had just vacated.
She walked into the room and stood still, gazing at him, but obviously uncertain as to what to say. “Hi, Daddy. I'm . . . uh . . . glad to see you, but I wish you hadn't come.”
“Oh, I'm sure of that. I didn't come here to browbeat you. Did Fayson coerce you into moving in with him?” She shook her head. “Are you in love with him?”
“It's not as simple as that.”
So she wasn't in love with the man. That was something. He raised himself to his full six foot, four inch height and faced Hal, who lounged against the doorjamb. “I'm a man of God, Fayson, but if you lay one of your hands on Kellie to hurt her in any way, I'll break you in two, and I'm not kidding. If I hear about it years after you do it, I'll still settle the score with you.
Write that down!
”

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