Plenty of time? You’re almost forty, for crying out loud. Vivian kept her thoughts to herself, not wanting him to feel she was trying to rush him into a commitment she was far from sure she actually wanted.
“I’m her only child, and I guess she’s torn between my getting married versus still being her baby.”
She stared at him, not liking the satisfied expression on his face.
“Attention, please. The time is now seven-thirty, and ICU visiting hours are officially over...”
“I guess I’d better get out of here before I turn into a pumpkin,” she said.
“I appreciate your coming, Vivian. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to spend together. But tomorrow I should be in a regular room...if you decide to come and see me.”
Vivian decided to take the out he offered. “I’ve got a lot of things to catch up on, but I’ll probably see you on Wednesday, if you’re still here.”
It seemed like everybody on the block was at home; Vivian didn’t find a space until she was nearly at the next corner. She was glad she went to visit Bernard, but she felt strangely hollow, and in her heart she knew that whatever good feelings she had about a future with him in it had dissolved like Jell-O mix in hot water. His mother had been difficult, but something in the way he smiled while acknowledging her behavior told Vivian he rather enjoyed it, and that meant there was trouble ahead if she pursued the relationship. Any woman he chose would find herself locked in a battle with his mother for his attentions.
Her body felt unwieldy and heavy as she slowly made her way down the street to her building. Lisa Mahoney had told her today that she would be attending the big meeting in New Jersey the week after next, the one in which the future of many of the employees would be discussed, Vivian would have a chance to show she could run the department herself, just in time for her next performance review.
In the lobby she paused to get her mail. She’d been in such a hurry to have a quick dinner and get changed that she hadn’t bothered to pick it up. The latest issue of Biography magazine awaited her, the perfect remedy after such a long day. She was going to pour herself a glass of wine, fix some baloney and cheese on Ritz crackers, stretch out on the couch with her feet up, and enjoy her magazine.
“You come back and see us soon, now, Zack.”
“You know I will. Good night, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Hughes.”
Zack checked his watch. It had been a pretty good day. He had done a coworker a favor and covered part of his shift this afternoon, and although he’d gotten out of there about an hour later than he planned, it still was only eight o’clock. If it were later in the week he would call a female friend—he knew a fair amount who lived in Southern Westchester—and issue an invitation for a drink at Smitty’s and go on from there, but since this was the beginning of the work week he doubted he would meet with much success. He’d just go home…and try not to think about Vivian St. James.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Vivian looked up from her work.
“Hi, Glenda.”
“You all right? You seem kind of glum.”
“Oh, I’m all right, I guess. I saw Bernard last night.”
“Did you see his mother, too?”
“Yes. She left me something like three minutes to see him. They only allow a half-hour in intensive care, you know.”
“Well, what did she do?”
“She was herself. That was enough. What bothers me is that Bernard seems to enjoy it I have a feeling that whoever he marries will have to fight his mother—not literally, of course—for his loyalty for the rest of his mother’s life...or until his wife runs for her own life, whichever comes first.”
“I gather you’ve decided to pass on becoming the lucky bride.”
“You got it. Here it is March, and I have no prospects.”
“Well, I don’t, either, so you’re not alone.” Glenda glanced toward the door of the office and smiled in that sweet way she reserved for men. “Hi, Pete.”
“Hi. Anybody here?”
“Sure. I think Harriet is getting coffee, but Vivian’s in here.”
Pete Arnold appeared, and Glenda flashed him another killer grin. “I was just leaving,” she said before sashaying out.
Vivian leaned forward expectantly, her elbows resting on her desk. “Good morning, Pete. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve decided to roll over some additional funds into my 401(k). Would I be able to do that at any time, or will I have to wait until the next open enrollment?”
“Are you already in the 401(k)? I didn’t think you were here that long.”
“I just made it before the deadline to join in January. I talked to you about it, remember? I was a little late with my paperwork.”
“Oh, yes, now I remember. I take it Glenda was able to get your deductions started for you.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Good. In answer to your question, you can roll over additional funds at any time.”
“Good. The fund I’m invested in isn’t doing all that great, and I think it’s going to get worse. I’d like to get out now.”
“You can bring the check to me, and I’ll submit it for you.”
“Hey, that’s great. Thanks a lot.” He turned to leave and promptly walked into the wall. “Oops. Sorry about that”
“Are you all right?” she asked with a smile.
“Uh…yeah. I thought the wall was farther over.”
When he had gone, she used her palm to stifle her laughter.
Chapter 8
Falling
“Wait a second, Zack. You’re going to paint the apartment?”
“Why not? It’ll save us a lot of money.”
“I know, but you? Painting?”
“You make it sound like I’m going to paint the entire building. It’s a one-bedroom apartment, Oz. And the walls will be white. It won’t matter if a little paint drips down the wall. Santos is just out of the hospital after an appendectomy. It’ll be weeks before he can do anything physical.”
“Well, hey, I think that’s great. I’m just surprised Mr. Ellis’s son got the place cleared out that quickly.”
“The man didn’t want to spend any more time here than he had to. He had the Salvation Army pick up what was salvageable, dumped the rest, had his father cremated, and went back home with a small cardboard box, which I have a feeling will be the old guy’s permanent resting place. The whole thing took about three days. I think it’s sad, but I suppose there’s a reason why they weren’t close.”
“Don’t worry, Zack. I know when you have kids you’ll be a great dad. So when are you going to paint?”
“This weekend, maybe Sunday. Teresita will clean it before that, and after I’m done she’ll come back to do the floors, and it’ll be ready for showing. I’ll have Laurie put an ad in next week’s paper.”
“We’re way ahead of schedule.”
“Yeah, if we’re lucky we can get somebody in as early as the middle of next month.”
“Good work. And take it easy. You know you aren’t used to that manual labor.”
*****
Friday afternoon Vivian had a meeting with Lisa Mahoney.
“Do you have any idea what will happen?” Vivian asked. The entire building was gossiping about who was likely to be laid off, and most of the employees were anxious about what the future held.
“Well, as I said before, all of us should be safe.”
“Yes, I know, but what about the other departments? A lot of people are worried, Lisa. I have people stopping in here a dozen times a day asking if their jobs are going to be eliminated.”
“I can’t blame them. It’s Glenda you’re worried about especially, isn’t it?”
Vivian shrugged. “Not really. I don’t want to sound unfeeling, but Glenda herself isn’t particularly concerned. She’s already got a backup plan in place in case she needs one.”
“Good for her. Just between you and me, Vivian, most of the eliminations will be at the u
pper level. If there’s one thing the combined company won’t need, it’s two sets of corporate officers and other executives drawing six-figure salaries. The other problem involves consolidating the other departments. Unfortunately, there can only be one person in charge, and since there are two, that might present a problem. People won’t be happy going from supervisor to assistant supervisor. But we’re going to offer incentives for early retirement and see how many people want to take advantage of that, for starters. Now, remember, mum’s the word.”
“All right.”
“You should be fine. I’ll be checking in every day, and Connie can help you out even though I did say it was okay if she took a few days off.”
*****
Vivian spent Saturday morning spring cleaning her apartment, dusting the blinds, washing the windows with a mixture of ammonia and water, going through her closet and deciding which clothing and shoes she would not be wearing again and packing them up to donate to charity. By lunchtime the apartment sparkled and smelled fresh as a spring breeze. She had some lunch, showered, and headed for the mall, planning to just browse while she got in some walking, but she purchased a pretty white blouse that was on sale. It would go with anything, and, as her mother always said, a girl could never have too many white blouses.
Sunday morning she got up early, drove to the spa she belonged to, and worked out. Since joining, she was pleased with the progress her waistline was making; putting on slacks and skirts wasn’t painful anymore. She wanted to maintain her figure. Soon it would be bikini weather…not that she’d be putting on a bikini. She was a little old to be showing that much skin, although she would wear a two-piece with a more modest cut. She wanted to make sure she was firmed up.
Afterward, as she turned on her car’s ignition, she had a sudden urge to see her parents. Within minutes, she was on Interstate Ninety-Five headed for Connecticut.
It took just under two and a half hours to reach New London. There was no car in the driveway, but Vivian wasn’t concerned. Church was letting out just about now, and her parents should be home shortly. Besides, she had a key. Her parents insisted she hold onto it after she took her first apartment, and she’d kept it ever since.
She was in the kitchen making a sandwich from a leftover chicken when she heard them calling out her name. “Here I am!” She carefully laid the knife across the top of the open mayonnaise jar and went to greet her parents, embracing them warmly.
Her father was clearly thrilled to see her. She was his firstborn, and only daughter. “I was wondering when you were going to get up here and see the old folks,” he teased.
“I know. It’s much too long between visits. I promise to come more often.” She carried her plate and drinking glass over to the square table in the corner.
“Don’t forget your cake,” Caroline said. She picked up the plate that held the large piece of chocolate-iced yellow cake and joined Vivian at the table. “We know it’s a long drive for you,” she added, “and that you’re busy, but maybe you can take some time out from your social schedule and come for a weekend. You can always bring a friend.”
Vivian smiled at her mother’s none-too-subtle hint. “I don’t think my friends would appreciate New London, but thanks, anyway.”
“Well, then, when you come you can catch up with some of your old friends. I saw Grace Da Silva the other week at the supermarket. She’s got two adorable little girls, three and six.”
“I know. She put a picture of them in her Christmas card.”
“Have you heard from Lauren Walters?”
“Yes. We talk every so often and try to get together at least every other month. We’re going to meet in Stamford next week and shop for our safari.”
“Oh, that’s right That trip. You know, it’s an awful lot of money to spend to go somewhere where you won’t meet anyone.”
“The important thing is that it’s something we always wanted to do, and something we’ll never forget.”
“I’m sure you won’t.”
“Nice girl, that Lauren,” her father said. “I understand her mother’s been ill.”
“Oh, Eddie. That was months ago,” her mother corrected. “She had pneumonia, but she’s all recovered now. Haven’t you seen her? She’s always out in the yard working on her garden. How could you miss her?”
He shrugged. “Guess she hasn’t been there when I’ve gone out.”
The Walters family lived three houses down from the St Jameses, and their daughter Lauren was one of Vivian’s oldest friends.
“Tell you what,” Eddie said. “I’m going to turn on the game in the other room. You girls can sit here and gossip. Caroline, will you make me a sandwich?”
“I’ll bring it out to you,” she replied, springing into action. She took Vivian’s place at the counter. “I hope that potato salad is still good. I made it on Wednesday.”
“It tastes fine to me. No one can make potato salad like you, Mom.”
“Well, thank you.”
Caroline quickly prepared Eddie’s meal, which she served with the last of the potato salad. When she returned from delivering it, she filled a Dutch oven with water and put it atop the lit burner. “I’m making macaroni and cheese to go with my ham. I hope you’re going to stay for dinner.”
“I don’t think I’ll be here long enough. I’ve got a big week coming up at work, and I want to get home early.”
“You mean you’re only here for a few hours? It takes that long to get up here!”
“I know. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, Mom. Aren’t you glad I came?”
“Of course. Daddy and I feel a little abandoned, what with you in New York and Mark in Boston.”
“You know you guys love having the house to yourselves.”
Her mother joined her at the table. “I didn’t say we missed having you living here with us; I said I missed you not living in the same city, or at least nearby. So, how’s your friend the stockbroker feeling? Is he still in the hospital?”
“He was discharged Thursday. He’s staying at his parents’ while he recovers.
“Have you visited him there?”
“Not yet. I think he needs to rest for a few days. He said something about having me over for dinner, but of course that’s his mother’s call.” Vivian decided not to mention her decision to end the relationship; she didn’t want her mother to start in on how much she wanted grandchildren while she was still young enough to enjoy them, which was her usual destination topic once she began to observe that both her children had left the New London area. Vivian felt it wasn’t fair that most of her mother’s hopes were pinned on her. Mark didn’t have to deal with all this interest in his love life, and he was only three years younger.
“Well, if you go, I want to hear all about it. Do you think it will become serious between the two of you?”
She took a deep breath. There was no end to her mother’s curiosity. If someone were to tell Caroline St. James they were receiving obscene telephone calls, she would probably respond by asking what the caller had said. “No, Mom,” she finally said, deciding honesty was the best policy. “I’m going to break it off as soon as I can.”
Caroline’s face fell. “Break it off? But why, for heaven’s sake?”
Because his mother doesn’t want grandchildren as much as you do. “He’s a nice guy, but he’s an only child, and his parents—no, make that his mother—is too protective.”
“You’ve met his parents?”
“Yes, at the hospital. I find his mother’s attitude stifling. I also have a feeling that he rather enjoys it I wouldn’t be surprised if he never gets married, at least while she’s alive.” Vivian suspected that revelation would silence the protests, and she was right.
“I don’t know why some women insist on turning their sons into mama’s boys,” Caroline said with a shake of her head. “He’d better watch out, or his mom won’t let him leave her house to go back to his place.”
“If it wasn’t for his father keeping h
er under control, he probably never would have gotten away to go to college.”
“That’s too bad, but at least you didn’t waste much time on him. Is there anyone else on the horizon?”
The handsome face of Zachary Warner immediately came to Vivian’s mind. She had been thinking about him a lot lately, ever since she decided it was over with Bernard, but it would probably be a long time before she saw him again. Last month’s NBP activity had been a late-season ski trip to Vermont, which she and Glenda skipped. This month they were sponsoring a bowling night, but she was so busy with Bernard that she missed the deadline to register. Next month they would taking a train excursion to a casino in New England, but she wasn’t much for gambling. She didn’t remember what the June function was, but didn’t see the point, since it was two months away. It was hard to get excited about anything with that long of a wait.
“Vivian? Can you hear me?”
“Yes, Mom. No, there’s no one else.” She pushed back in her chair. “I’m going to watch the game with Daddy. Why don’t you come out?”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, after I get dinner in the oven.”
At a little after three, Vivian announced she was going to drive home, which brought the expected protests from her parents, but it was still early. She refused to allow herself to be cajoled into staying “just a little bit longer,” saying she had to leave immediately. Her mother insisted she bring home a plate to have for dinner and stacked it high with ham, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, and corn bread. “I know you had that sandwich and potato salad for lunch, but by the time you get home you’ll be ready to eat again. I wrapped another piece of cake for you, too.”
Vivian gave her mother an affectionate hug. “There goes my workout.”
On the long drive home, Vivian thought about how she should handle breaking off with Bernard. She had visited him in the hospital Wednesday night. By then, he was in a private room and was expecting to be discharged the next day. She was relieved to learn his parents had been in earlier. “I’m going to spend the first week out of here at their house,” he told her. “Would you like to come to dinner next week, maybe get to know my mother a little better?”
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