by Joan Early
She studied her reflection in the mirror. “This is a Baptist outfit for sure,” she said to her audience of one. “Wish me good luck, Dino.”
She stepped into navy slingbacks, put a linen handkerchief in her matching bag, and added gold jewelry before declaring herself properly dressed.
Rev. Cartwright was late picking her up, which allowed extra time for her nerves to become more frayed. She paced back and forth, rubbing the knuckles of her right hand in her left palm, and thought back to the last time a date picked her up late. She was angry and he was sullen; they saw a dull movie, she refused to kiss him. He never called again.
“It’s just as well, Dino. I’m too ambivalent about dating a minister for this to work.”
The doorbell rang at precisely eleven-thirty. She removed the security chain and looked, unsmiling, into his eyes, but warmth soon replaced irritation.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I had an emergency at the church. I don’t like keeping a lovely lady waiting, but you can count on this luncheon not starting promptly.” He said it all in a rush, finally stopping to catch his breath. “You look wonderful.” His smile was crooked and utterly disarming.
“Thank you.”
Seated next to him moments later, she felt his magnetic pull and sensed the feeling was mutual. As he drove through his neighborhood, he provided her with details about the changing face of the area.
“This is Cedargrove Heights, once a predominately Jewish neighborhood, now predominately black, but with a growing Hispanic population. The older homes to the left were sold when blacks began to move into the area. A few Jewish families remained, but once the older members were gone, the younger generation chose not to keep the properties. Most of them are well maintained, but some were abandoned back in the housing recession of the eighties. Too much upkeep for some and not enough rental income for others. Just about every house along this main street went on the market shortly after tax laws for rental property changed.”
She paid close attention to every detail he mentioned and tried to observe as much as she could of his beloved Cedargrove Heights, which bordered a large section of downtown. She knew that if the metro area hoped to expand, bordering property would eventually become prime real estate. The residences changed from the elegant, large brick and wood-framed houses to smaller, cheaply built ones. Wooded areas bordered the east side of the development. Susan saw lots of room for growth.
Will parked in his reserved space and came around to open the door and take her hand. Looking around, she observed several structures situated about the well-maintained grounds. She assumed they represented different eras in the church’s history. The original structure was almost hidden behind the austere lines of the newer building. Remembering her grandmother’s stories of how the church was the only place blacks could congregate during state-sanctioned discrimination, she felt an immediate kinship to a place she had never been.
Will held her arm as they walked toward the entrance. When he introduced her as his guest to several people in the foyer, she felt special. Heads turned as they entered the room. Susan quickly ascertained that a lot of money had gone into the construction of the large hall and into its elaborate décor. The individual seats were nicely upholstered, video screens were placed throughout, and biblical scenes were portrayed in stained glass on the windows and transoms.
Will introduced her around the table and then placed her between him and Mrs. Whitehead.
“Miss Cross.” Mrs. Whitehead beamed a big, welcoming smile. “It’s so nice of you to come.”
When Will excused himself, Susan learned that Mrs. Whitehead was his godmother as well as his assistant, and met his mother, his sister Terri, and two aunts. Everyone was very cordial, though Susan felt sure they were giving her a critical once-over.
Will joined them midway through the show and apologized for his absence. When the event was over, Susan said good-bye to Mrs. Whitehead and the others and accepted invitations to come again. On the way out, he stopped for “a little church business.” She wandered over to the foyer and purchased a purse from one of the street vendors there. On his way to join her, Will described her as a special friend to someone inquiring about her identity.
Susan liked his response.
He drove her around the rest of the neighborhood, pointing out his old high school, the house where he was born, and the house his parents had purchased when he was nine years old.
“I hope you don’t mind if I run in and check on my dad. He had a stroke and has recovered just enough to get around in his wheelchair, but he flatly refused to come out for this function, not that I blame him. He’s been alone here this afternoon, and I just need to make sure he’s okay.”
He flashed the smile that she had come to adore.
“I’ll only be a minute. You can stay in the car if you like, though I’m sure he’d want to meet you.”
“I don’t mind coming in. I’d like to meet your father.”
They found the elder reverend sitting in a recliner watching a western movie and talking to the set.
Will hugged his father, took the remote and lowered the volume on the TV before guiding Susan over for an introduction. The expression of devotion on his face and the pride and tenderness he displayed toward his father touched her deeply.
“Dad, I want you to meet someone very special. This is Susan Cross. She’s head of lending for Sealand. This is my father, Rev. Cartwright Sr.”
“Hello, young lady. Welcome to our home.” He wasn’t as old as Susan had imagined, and there was something enthralling in his smooth face, the same subtle intimidation she saw in his son.
“Thank you, sir. My mother has told me about your gallant efforts on behalf of civil rights. It’s quite an honor to meet you.”
A smile spread across his face. “Thank you. I appreciate your kind words. Your folks from Houston?”
“No, sir. I’m from Canton, Ohio. My mother recognized your name as someone she’s come to respect over the years. I was taught to appreciate the sacrifices made by those who paved the way for the rest of us. My parents were very active in civil rights matters. They still are.”
His smile was warm and genuine. “I’m so glad to hear that, and I hope they stay active. Too many people think they’ve got it made and have become complacent…lethargic…just plain ole lazy. If we’re not careful, we’ll be right back where we started.” His voice lowered as he took her hand. “You sure are a beautiful young lady. I’m so glad my son brought you by.”
The visit was brief, but during that time Susan gained a world of respect for Willard Cartwright Jr. She saw him not as a minister who spouted platitudes in the pulpit, but a man with genuine warmth and compassion. She also knew her views of Cedargrove, its citizens, and their problems had changed. They returned to the car and Will expressed his sentiment.
“I had no idea you knew anything about my father. I’m sure it made his day to know that someone your age remembers the way it was. Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. I meant what I said. My mother told me of your father’s civil rights work during his college years, and that he once marched with Dr. King. I quake in the presence of people like him. I know how much courage it took for them to put their lives on the line to make this world a better place for the rest of us. I’m forever ingratiated to all of them, both black and white.”
“The struggle hasn’t ended yet, Susan. That’s what this whole thing with Sealand is about. This area has been singled out. I’m sure of it. Maybe they hid things to make it look okay to you, but I can assure you it isn’t.”
Feeling a ton of guilt wrapped in the likeness of Price Bishop, she tried to explain Sealand’s position and listened to Will’s concerns for Cedargrove residents whose appeals for clemency with delinquency problems had been rebuffed by Sealand’s staff. Susan was pleased that they were able to disagree without being disagreeable, but hoped the Sealand and Cedargrove discussions would cease.
He passed a
red brick house with white trim, pointed to the driveway, and honked his horn. “That’s my house, and my best friend is in the driveway. His name is Rex. Not original, but easy to remember. I’m divorced. The death of our seventeen-month-old son and my ministerial duties drove my wife away. I won’t dwell on it. I just wanted you to know.”
She waited a few minutes, silently composing her next lines. “I’m divorced as well. My promotions and salary drove us apart, and I left him after a very disturbing physical confrontation. I won’t dwell on it, either. It’s in the past.”
As they neared her apartment she wondered how he viewed their date and how it would end. She liked him a lot. He was jovial and upbeat, yet serious and committed. She unwittingly compared him to Travis, who was bland and deeply connected to bad memories.
They arrived at the door and he took her hand.
“I enjoyed having you as my guest today. You’re a very pleasant and very beautiful lady. Thank you for brightening my world.” He kissed her hand.
“I had a wonderful time. Thank you for inviting me.” She unlocked the door and turned to say good-bye. “I didn’t mean to climb on my soapbox, Will. I know the issues of your neighborhood are important to you and I respect that a great deal, even when we disagree.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you said that. Yes, the issues of Cedargrove, my church, and my congregation are important to me.” There was an amused twinkle in his eyes. “But I’m often reminded that I’m still a man. Mrs. Whitehead, Auntie, says I should pay less attention to my duties and more to my personal life. I plan to follow her advice. Do I have your permission to call you sometime?”
She found his gallant manner almost as thrilling as his crooked smile. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“How about dinner later in the week? I’m not sure of the day, but I can call you when I get to my office.”
“My evening calendar is clear all week, so just let me know when you’re available. Thanks again for a wonderful day.”
She watched him walk away and realized she had already surrendered more of her heart than she could afford to lose.
CHAPTER 5
The next week was a busy one for Susan, but she managed to squeeze in a little time for relaxation—and Will. As she feared, she would have to strip the files and underwrite the loans without any assistance from Price’s department. The few files his staff did review contained cryptic notations such as “documentation missing” or “unable to determine cause of rejection.” When questioned, Price had a ready answer.
“I don’t know how to convey this message to you, but this isn’t going to work. It’s almost impossible to do what you’re asking. These underwriters have current files that must proceed or we’ll be getting a lot more visits from angry applicants. I simply don’t have the manpower to go back and underwrite denied loans, no matter how many ministers cry foul.”
The war was on, and she planned to take no prisoners.
She was in the middle of a major problem involving a Dallas branch office when Will called. She kept him waiting only as long as necessary before taking the call.
“I really enjoyed spending time with you Saturday, but I would like to do something next time that wouldn’t bore you to tears.”
Hearing his voice, Susan imagined his laughing eyes. She wondered if the lack of male companionship could explain her intense response to him, but quickly discarded that theory as she and Travis had been in each other’s presence and she had felt nothing remotely resembling what she felt for Will.
“Well, I wasn’t bored; women generally aren’t bored at fashion shows. I actually enjoyed it, and enjoyed meeting your father. I enjoyed being with you.”
“The pleasure was all mine, and I would very much like to see you again. I’m tied up today and tomorrow. Are you free for lunch on Wednesday?”
“I sure am.” Wednesday seemed a lifetime away. She wanted to see him now, to touch him, to have him extinguish the fire that was building inside her.
* * *
“We’re having lunch on Wednesday,” Susan repeated to her mother that evening. “I met his mother and one of his sisters at church. He stopped to check on his father when he was driving me home, and I met him as well. He looks much younger than his age suggests.”
“Does he…is he still handsome?” Tammy asked hesitantly.
“He is. Angie said the stroke happened just after finishing a sermon. He’s expected to regain most, or all, of his mobility, but you can see his frustration and impatience. I’ll ask Will more about it on Wednesday.”
The enormity of Susan’s responsibilities became clear as calls for directions and assistance came from the other branches. But even in the midst of erupting crises, her mind kept drifting to Will’s appealing smile. On Wednesday, she brushed, flossed, and reapplied her makeup before leaving for Farrell’s Steakhouse. Will was waiting at the table.
“I’d figured I’d better not be late twice,” he said, smiling as he stood.
She ordered tea and was surprised when he ordered a glass of wine.
“What? We serve this stuff in church. Go ahead, have a glass.”
“No, thank you. I can hardly respond to the crisis around me when I’m totally sober. One glass of wine and I just might tell them all where to go and how to get there.”
“I’m sure you’re very capable, even after a glass of wine.” His voice was smoky and smoldering. “Tell me, how did you get in the lending business?”
“Just a fluke. I was headed for law school when I took a summer job at Sealand. A branch manager hired me, and I guess he liked my work. I continued there and went for an MBA instead.”
They talked of nothing in particular, but he laughed a lot. Susan found nothing to dislike about him. He was an entertaining, relaxing, and exceptionally handsome man. She remembered her mother’s interest, and inquired about his father.
“My mother was excited that I had met your father. He’s obviously made a big impression on her. I hope his health is improving.”
“Thank you, and thank your mother. Dad is my hero, and it’s great to know he is well thought of by others. He was a little surprised that your mother was aware of his summer in Washington. It was a special part of his youth. My appreciation for him, as a father and a minister, is tremendous. His illness was yet another example of just how precious life is. He’s getting stronger every day, and I thank God for that.”
He walked her to her car, held the door, and asked if she was free for dinner on Friday night.
She said yes, and he said he would pick her up at seven.
“I’ll see you then. Thanks for lunch.” She wanted a kiss. A hug. Something to take with her. She drove away, aware that he was there with her. He was inside of her.
“Friday is day after tomorrow.” She almost sang the words. “I guess I can wait that long.”
* * *
Work became one long telephone call. By Friday, Susan was exhausted. Knowing she would be seeing Will brightened the drive home. He called as she was trying to decide what to wear.
“Susan, it’s Will. I am so sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Another one of those small church emergencies. But I’ve cleared my calendar for tomorrow. All day. I hope I didn’t ruin your evening.”
“Ah, no, I understand.”
“So you’ll forgive me and let me make it up to you tomorrow? Please?”
She tried to hide her disappointment. “Sure. No problem.”
“You’re an angel. We’ll spend the day in Galveston. It’s not the beach as you know it, but it is close by. Dress casually. Shorts or whatever. I’ll pick you up…say ten o’clock? Is that too early?”
“No, ten is fine.” She hung up, grabbed her purse, and headed to the Galleria to shop for shorts. The store had a huge selection, and she had a hard time choosing. She ended up with eight pairs, and spent much of the evening deciding which one to wear. She finally settled on khakis and chose a pale pink, very feminine pullover. She fell a
sleep thinking of tomorrow.
The lump in her throat allowed no room for breakfast to pass, but Susan managed to drink a glass of milk and nibble the edges of a slice of wheat toast. She packed a shoulder bag with tanning lotion, sunglasses, and minimal essentials.
She was holding Dino when she answered the doorbell. “On time again,” she said, looking at his khaki shorts, navy shirt, and thrilling smile. “Early, even.”
“Yeah, you were my inspiration. Hey, what’s that?” He pointed to Dino.
“This is Dino, my best friend, and don’t tell me you hate cats.”
“Hate is too strong a word. I’m just more comfortable with dogs, but I get along with most cats. Hi, Dino.”
He reached out and the cat jumped from Susan’s arms. Laughing, she said, “Come on in. I’ll get my hat.”
“This place is fabulous. Decorate it yourself?”
“It belongs to Sealand and came fully decorated. I added a little color and my limited Lladró collection.”
“Boy,” he said, looking around. “They must like you a lot.”
“I wouldn’t say that. They own four units in this building. I’m just lucky one was available when they transferred me here.” She said good-bye to Dino and followed Will to a red Jeep Wrangler.
“See, I’m also a Jeep fan. This is my runaround utility vehicle. It’s usually just me and the dog on Saturdays.”
The conversation was easy, and Susan began to relax and enjoy the music on the radio. Will had tuned to a jazz station. He already knew she liked jazz, so she wasn’t sure if the music indicated his personal taste or his effort to please. They both smiled a lot, and Susan got her first glimpse of Galveston Island when they crossed the bridge.
“So tell me, how do you like Houston so far?” he asked.
“I don’t like the traffic, and I’m fascinated by the size of your newspaper,” she answered. “The article I just read regarding twenty cool things about Houston definitely wasn’t referring to the weather. Other than that, I like it.”