She was the kind of woman I admired, a take-charge kind who really ran the day-to-day operations of McNair Machine Tool to allow her husband David the freedom to pursue whatever whim came to mind that morning. Lovey was the one who did the wheeling and dealing, assuring her husband's associates deadlines would be met, payments would be made, and products would be superior.
Which of course, they were.
She would swoop down upon McNair Machine Tool once or twice a week, terrorizing the bookkeepers and the clerks, checking their books and their attitudes.
Behind her back, they called her Queen Leona II, but in my mind the real Leona Helmsley was the victim of a vicious press. She built an empire, hadn't she? In her fashion, so did Lovey McNair. I was just fortunate she asked me along for the ride.
For many years, she badgered Montgomery and me to buy into various schemes; most of them were quick incorporations to take advantage of a lagging real estate market, or booming stock market, quick profit-making set-ups that she put together and liquidated like some people change socks.
Montgomery would have no part of it, but he never said why. He never liked Lovey, so rather than cause an argument, I simply deferred to him when she brought whatever scheme up.
Monty died of a stroke in Kay's junior year of high school. The sale of his share of the medical practice and our other holdings left me very comfortable, if I must say so myself. When a check came from an unknown life insurance policy, I decided it was high time I made a few fiscal decisions on my own. This time when Lovey approached me, I said yes.
After a few years, we built quite a little nest egg. I was a silent partner in all of this, so I really didn't have a voice in how she ran things. Still, there were times when, really, I thought her methods were a bit extreme.
But Lovey always said she really had all the business sense. I couldn't know anything about running it, she said. Maybe that was what made her so successful. I truly admired her business acumen and her razor-sharp ability to see through a situation as it truly was and go right to the heart of a matter, make a sharp decision, and stick to it no matter what. Sometimes, I thought she could be a little heavy-handed, but she always assured me that what she did was in our best interests.
She was already seated when I arrived.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Hello, Marian. I hope your doctor's appointment went well?" Her eyebrows arched.
"Everything's fine. I just had Ed refill my sinus medication."
We both ordered chef’s salads. As our waiter disappeared into the kitchen, Lovey frowned somberly.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
Lovey shook her head. "A little dust-up with a client."
"Oh?"
"It's been taken care of." Lovey looked less than reassured.
"Don't worry so much! As long as the checks keep coming!" I teased lightly. This was strange; I never had to reassure Lovey about anything.
"Yes. As long as the checks keep coming." My friend and partner frowned again and lapsed into an uncharacteristic silence.
The veins in my forehead began to throb. "You're beginning to frighten me. What happened?"
The waiter brought our salads, and Lovey's forehead creased deeply as she picked out the green pepper rings.
"One of our clients thought they could get away with not paying this month." Her eyes shot daggers across the table at me. "It's been taken care of."
"Oh dear." I wrung the napkin in my lap and leaned across the table. "How did you fix things?"
"The way I usually do."
My stomach turned over. "However limited our agreement may be, I am a partner in this little venture with you and I know how you deal with problems." My voice was barely above a whisper.
"Stop it," she hissed. "You don't always know how I fix things, but it won't happen again. Pull yourself together, and don't be such a child."
"I'm not being a child!" I hissed back.
"Everything's a crisis to you lately, Marian. I do wish you would stop."
"No, it's not! And I will not stop until I get some answers from you!"
"Dear heart, these people are not the crème de la crème of the Eastern seaboard either." Lovey laughed at her own wit. "It's all they understand. Besides, it's fixed now. "
"How did you fix it, though?"
"I don't want you questioning me. It's my decision on how to handle things."
"You called him, didn't you?"
"Marian, you're building mountains from molehills again."
"That Weisenbach woman was a molehill?" I burst out in exasperation. "It took fourteen thousand dollars to fix that: the judge, the chief of police, the arresting officer!"
Lovey slammed her meaty fist down on the table, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're still getting your check once a month, aren't you? Aren't you?"
"Well yes, but I don't think…”
"I have the authority to run the operation as I see fit, and if I see fit to ask a certain employee to perform a certain task, then it will be done. You will not question me."
I picked up my folk and tried to eat. I knew I didn't have the ability to run the business like she did, and I knew I was only a silent partner in all this, but I hated it when she made me feel so unworthy. I pushed my plate away, pain constricting my chest.
"I'm—I'm sorry."
"So, how are Andrew and Lillian these days?" Lovey asked, loud enough for everyone around her to hear. "I'm sure you're thrilled to have them living so close to you again."
So the subject was closed. All I wanted was the answer to a few questions. Half of it was my money after all.
"Lovey, just one more question, if you don't mind?"
Lovey's eyes narrowed into heavily made-up slits. Her jaw clenched. "Why don't you go home and lie down. I'll call you later to check on you. Lunch is on me."
"But, I—I—" Lovey's iron glare stopped me in my tracks. "You're right, I'm not feeling well. Thank you."
If only Monty were here to advise me, I thought, picking my way through the luncheon crowd. Maybe he had been right about her all along.
* * *
A week later, we were at the so-called social hour, prior to the Plummer County Community Hospital charity board meeting. The two of us stood next to the table, which was spread sparsely with hors d'oeuvres, cookies, and weak punch. It was one of those few days where my calm was not medically induced. I had felt so marvelous upon rising that I had skipped my medication all together.
We hadn't seen each other since lunch at the club; my comments that day were swept under the rug, and the waters seemed to be calm between us. Lovey may have run our business with an iron hand, but – thank God – she was still my friend.
"Did I tell you I saw Marcus Henning and Kay having lunch recently?" Lovey viciously skewered a cheese cube with an unnaturally green toothpick.
"Really?" I looked over the foiled tray of store-bought sugar cookies and selected one.
"He made a rather ugly scene, something about that business last year. It was all very embarrassing for Kay, no doubt."
"No doubt."
"He is such a strange character, isn't he? Does he still carry a torch for Kay?"
"I don't know,” I replied. “He did stop by her house, the other night when I was there."
"Don't you think that's strange?"
"Well, no, I mean, he had just written that lovely article about Kay's new job."
"When I saw them at Hawk's, they seemed to be standing a bit too close, if you get my drift. I would nip that in the bud, Marian. Her husband is serving his country clear across the world and that, well, you know. People will talk."
Cold terror swept through me. My God, was Kay silly enough to get involved with that rabble again? He was as much of an idiotic, idealistic do-gooder as she was. And, worse, he had no money, no future, and the manners of a toad.
I broke open a bottle of Dom Perignon and danced a jig in
the kitchen the night she confessed she had turned down Marcus’s proposal—not in front of her, of course. They had been an off-and-on item, since that first disaster of hers. Thank God she used her head and realized that marriage between them would have been another disaster.
But, what if something was going on between them already? My God.
Lovey raised her painted-on eyebrows and turned to the lithe woman bearing down on us with a stack of folders in her arms. I would have to think about Kay's reputation later.
"Ellen. Ellen Nussey," Lovey cooed. "I didn't see you earlier. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it."
Ellen Nussey, the president of the charity board, smiled indulgently. She wore too much Indian turquoise jewelry and gauzy California-style clothing all year long, and her perpetual tan accented a row of somewhat horsy, although perfectly capped, teeth.
Ellen and I had known each other for years. That didn't mean I liked her.
"Don't you know I have been here since two o'clock trying to get these committees straight?” Ellen asked. “Marian, how are you? Card club is at my house this Thursday, correct?"
"Yes, it is." I clenched my teeth.
"Wonderful, I'll see you then. Oh, before I forget," Ellen showed her equine teeth and handed me two folders. "Since you did such a marvelous job on the table decorations for the New Year's Ball last year, I knew you wouldn't even consider saying no for a second year. Mrs. Mazza, Mrs. Waymack, and Mrs. Larghente will be on the committee with you. This is the budget and their phone numbers. The one-hundredth anniversary of the hospital is this year's theme."
"Thank you."
"The other folder is the phone tree. It's your month to contact the other board members."
"Of course." I hated the charity board almost as much as I hated Ellen Nussey. However, my position brought with it certain obligations, which I understood and followed to the letter.
Ellen's worthless chatter filled my ears, but I no longer heard her.
If only Kay could see her obligations. Kay had been terribly closed-mouthed when she returned home with just the children. On the surface, she said it was an unaccompanied tour to Korea; only Paul could go and not the family.
“But you’ve gone before!” I exclaimed.
“That was different,” Kay said.
End of explanation. Deep down, there was something wrong that she wasn't telling me.
And, if Marcus Henning was sniffing around like a rutting dog again, he might provide a temptation that my daughter certainly didn't need right now. She had a husband with a brilliant military career ahead of him and those two wonderful children. She couldn't throw all that away! I wouldn't let her.
"We could do something about the situation, you know." Lovey laid her broad hand on my arm.
"Pardon me?" I said, shaken from my reverie, answering automatically. "Of course we could. You always know best."
Later, I would wish I’d paid more attention.
* * *
That's it! Why hadn't I thought of it before! I turned away from my bedroom window, letting the dark, heavy curtain cover the wet, miserable weather outside. All I had to do was affect some kind of reconciliation between Kay and Paul! If I acted quickly, the two of them would be cooing like lovebirds, and Marcus Henning would be out in the cold, away from my daughter. But first, I had to put my plan into action. Confidently, I went down to breakfast.
"Good morning, Novella,” I said, as she poured my coffee.
"Morning Mrs. James. I'll be right back with your grapefruit."
“Oh, no need Novella, no need. I'll just take my muffin and some butter and jam in Dr. James's study, if you don't mind."
"Yes ma'am." My maid looked at me strangely. "Anything else?"
"Yes. I have some writing to do this morning in the study and will be using Dr. James's fountain pen. Bring me something to wash the ink off my hands and see that I'm not disturbed."
Novella didn't move.
"Why are you staring at me like that? Go!"
“I’ve known you for almost thirty years now. This is this first time you want something different for breakfast since Dr. Montgomery passed."
"It's not the end of the world. I can change, can't I?" I picked up my cup and saucer with both hands. "I'll be in the study."
I called the room off the foyer Montgomery's study, although I moved there after his death. I made sure it was a replica of the room he really used as a study when we lived in our first home off Church Street.
Monty's study had been the most masculine room in the house, and I enjoyed being reminded of his presence. Just like our Church Street home, one wall was covered with mahogany bookshelves filled with his medical books and other volumes. Beside the fireplace, an authentic suit of English armor stood beside a black, leather sofa. I breathed deeply, inhaling the masculine, leather scent that still filled the room. Montgomery had been my salvation; he had brought me out of the secretarial pool at Plummer County Community Hospital and given me a life I never knew existed. He was also the last one to know the truth about me.
Almost immediately, Novella entered with a tray, carrying a warmed washcloth on a silver salver and my breakfast.
"I may be a while. Bring me the coffee pot, and see that I am not disturbed."
"Yes, ma'am." Novella shook her head, muttering as she shut the door behind her.
I filled Montgomery's Mont Blanc pen with ink and, dismissing Novella's grumbling, began to write:
Dear Paul,
You know me, I'm such an early bird. I have just begun my Christmas shopping and I’d like to let you in on a little secret. How would you like...
Perfect! The words flowed as easily as the ink. It took another few minutes to recopy the letter on a page of my best vellum letterhead. Purposefully, I addressed the envelope and, after waiting for the ink to dry, carefully sealed the contents inside. Everything was now in motion. I could relax and enjoy breakfast.
As I ate, I looked across the desk at a picture of my precious grandchildren. Andy was sitting on a child-sized chair, wearing the most adorable little suit, and clasping a plump-cheeked little Lillian, dressed in a red velvet holiday dress, on his lap. Looking like a miniature version of his father, Andy was smiling toward the camera while Lillian smiled at him. It was one of my favorite pictures. Kay had sent the photo in a silver frame as part of my Christmas gifts and I often moved it throughout the house so I could keep my little angels in view.
I loved those children more than anyone could know – it was one of those pure child-like loves, uncomplicated and innocent, unlike the relationship with my own daughter.
I felt like it was such a chance to start my life again, to atone for so much, if I could see just one more smile and hear one more childish giggle. An afternoon with Lillian and Andrew was the greatest gift I could receive, and I couldn't let Kay ruin my chances to spend time with those precious, precious darlings by ruining her marriage to Paul.
The phone on the desk rang, just as I finished my last bite. I waited for Novella's discreet knock.
"Excuse me, Mrs. James," she said. "I know you didn't want to be disturbed, but there's a man on the phone. He won't tell me his name, but says he's got to speak to you. You want me to handle it?"
"No thank you. I'll take the call." I knew who it was. Coldly, angrily, I picked up the phone. "What do you want?"
"Mrs. J., how are you?" the voice at the other end of the line oozed menacingly, like a panther circling a wounded gazelle, ready to jump in for the kill.
"I have told you repeatedly I do not want you calling this house. Call Lovey or my lawyers, but never ever call this number again."
"But Mrs. J, I have some information for you."
"Whatever it is, I'm sure they can handle it."
"Not this."
My insides quivered, and I gripped the sides of the desk. He knows. Somehow the secret is out. "I don't know why Lovey insisted that we hire you."
&
nbsp; "Because I'm so good at what I do. You of all people should know that."
I shivered.
"I have spoken to your friend and partner," the caller continued. "She told me someone is making a nuisance of himself. I can fix that. I can make sure it doesn't happen ever again."
"What are you talking about?"
"The reporter. It's also possible that your daughter needs to be shown the error of her ways."
"What are you talking about? My daughter hasn't done anything wrong."
"That bitch owes me." There was a slow, hollow click, as the connection was severed.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and air rushed out of my lungs. The receiver fell from my hand, dragging the rest of the phone with it into a noisy pile onto the floor.
"Mrs. James? Mrs. James, you okay?" Novella pounded on the study door.
You can't escape, a voice rang in my head. Retribution will find you, and it will eat you alive.
My insides heaved. I wanted to vomit. Has Kay become involved in any of this? And his threats! Was he seriously going to hurt Kay? How was I going to keep her safe? Monitor her every move? I had to talk to Lovey. Now.
"You okay?" Novella pounded on the door again. "You don't answer me, I'm calling the ambulance!"
I tried to smooth my hair, but my fingers locked at my temples. Tears stung my eyes, and I swayed back and forth, wanting to scream, scared that I would.
"Mrs. James! Mrs. James!" The doorknob rattled.
Be quiet or someone will hear you.
"I'm, I'm fine, Novella."
"Then open this door, so's I can see you."
Purposefully, I replaced the phone on the desk and opened the library door. "See? I'm all in one piece. Are you satisfied, now? See that the phone company has my number changed by the end of the day," I barked. "I'm going over to Kay's."
"Yes, ma’am." Novella barely nodded. "I'll do that."
* * *
Of course, I didn't go to Kay's. I went directly to Lovey's, the Mercedes screeching to a stop in front of the McNair's Tudor home. Putting politeness behind me, I swept up the front steps and into their living room.
The Major's Wife (Jubilant Falls series Book 2) Page 6