A Lethal Legacy

by P. C. Zick

  Gary came home for Christmas of 1966 with a new girlfriend named Pamela. We managed to see each other daily during the weeklong visit. Allison and I tried our best to become acquainted with Pamela, the first girl Gary ever brought home to meet the family, but she was distant and thoroughly devoted to Gary, except when flirting with Philip.

  Pamela looked like a movie star with her bleached blonde hair poofed out around her face. Her pouty lips and high cheekbones didn’t attract attention because of the generous figure that strained the sweaters and tight skirts that seemed to be her uniform during the visit. It was difficult for me to keep my eyes off her. She and Gary made a striking couple, which Allison pointed out to me almost immediately.

  "They look perfect together, don't you think, Ed?" She asked as we drove home on the first night of their visit.

  "She's a looker all right," I said.

  "Gary better watch his father around her. Honestly, why your Aunt Claire puts up with him, I don't know. And your father wasn't much better tonight."

  "They were just trying to make Pamela feel comfortable."

  Allison snorted as we pulled into our driveway, ending further discussion for the night.

  Allison was right about one thing. My father and Uncle Philip had fallen all over themselves to assist Pamela that holiday season. After a few drinks, they became quite comfortable around her. Philip, in particular, took every opportunity to put his arm around her shoulders or touch her backside, not caring who saw.

  One night, we were having cocktails in the living room just before dinner when Philip made a particular fool of himself.

  "Philip, how about another drink?" Pam asked as she made her way to the side buffet to make herself another one.

  "Why, thanks, little lady," Philip said as he handed her his glass. Then he patted her behind as she walked away. She turned and gave him a slow grin while the rest of us watched uncomfortably from our chairs.

  "Listen, Pam, if that boy of mine doesn't treat you right, you let me know, OK?" Philip said when she had returned with two freshened drinks.

  "You bet, but you don't have to worry. Gary treats me just right." She turned to Gary and winked.

  "He better. He's never shown much good taste until now,” Philip said.

  Gary got up from the couch and silently went to find his mother who had disappeared after Philip's thoughtless behavior moments before. Just like Allison, I also wondered why Claire put up with his behavior. I found it difficult to believe that she still loved him.

  Gary called me on a January evening in 1967. Gary and I hadn't talked since Christmas, but we never went too long without keeping in touch. We even managed to visit each other twice a year either when he came home or when Allison and I drove the five hours to Chicago for a weekend.

  "Old man, are you ready to return the favor?" Gary asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I need a best man in April. Since I did it for you, I was hoping you'd do it for me."

  "You and Pamela? April?" I was astounded. When the two had been together at Christmas, Gary never seemed to touch her or even pay much attention to her, especially after one of his father's public passes.

  " I'm waiting, Ed." Gary jolted me back to the moment.

  "Of course, Gary. What do you think; I'd let you down? Tell me where and when and I'll be there." I'd finally gotten back my voice.

  "It's going to be small, right in Ann Arbor at Mom’s and Dad's. By the way, do you think Allison would mind playing matron of honor?"

  This question surprised me. Allison and Pamela had only met once. Allison hadn't really liked Pam. She referred to her as "cheap," a euphemism for what she really thought. Allison hated the way Pamela flirted with Philip so outrageously. Now I wondered why Pam didn’t ask a sister or cousin or friend, but I decided it was none of my business.

  "Allison can answer that better than me. I'll talk to her tonight, and then call you back. And, Gary? Congratulations, I hope you and Pamela are as happy as Ally and I."

  "Thanks, Ed. That means a lot," Gary said just before hanging up.

  Claire and Philip Townsend held the small wedding in the back yard of their house on Bydding Street. The sprawling house could have raised three or four children instead of just Gary, but that had not been in the cards for Aunt Claire and Uncle Philip.

  At Gary's request, they kept the ceremony small, but his parents insisted on inviting more than a hundred people from the Ann Arbor community for a reception immediately afterwards.

  Both Gary and Pamela looked like models for the bride and groom wedding cake toppers except that Pamela wore a short ivory lace gown with no veil, and Gary wore a good black suit instead of a tuxedo. However, they both glowed from the excitement and champagne.

  I offered my congratulations both privately to the couple and in a prepared toast in front of all of the guests. I once again mentioned that I hoped they would be as happy as Allison and I. When I went to kiss Pamela, she seemed very drunk and stumbled as she reached out to embrace me.

  "Thanks, Eddie, you're a sweetheart. Are we kissing cousins now?" she asked seductively while her hands traced the outline of my shoulders.

  "Not quite. Take care of Gary. He needs to be loved," I said while pulling away from her embrace. I also felt the need to warn her about something, but I wasn't quite sure about what.

  "You'll be my friend, too, won't you, Ed?" She asked.

  "I am your friend. Just don't hurt Gary, ever, OK?" I looked straight into her blue eyes, and she glared back defiantly.

  "Don't worry, I'll take care of your precious Gary," she said before she staggered away.

  After a honeymoon in Las Vegas, Gary and Pamela settled back into life in Chicago, and I didn't hear anything from them for a very long time. Aunt Claire kept me up to date on their life, but usually she just told me what they had bought, how much it cost, and how successful Gary was becoming as an advertising executive.

  Gary finally found a way to please both his parents by wearing the right wardrobe, acquiring the most possessions, buying the perfect house, and marrying the proper wife.

  I attempted to get comfortable on the couch in New Orleans as I thought about the way both of our marriages ended. Mine with little fanfare, Gary's with a huge explosion. I finally fell asleep in the early morning hours with my mind back twenty years ago.

  We managed to spend the next day showing Kristina the sights of New Orleans. She entranced both of us as we took the cemetery tours, rode the riverboat, and ate crawfish pie at Cafe Beignet. I had almost forgotten the feelings that Kristina had evoked in me the previous night, almost but not quite. There were moments when Gary left us alone to order food, go to the bathroom, or buy tickets that we would look at one another, and I would remember. I fought to keep my hands away from her hair, away from any part of her.

  As soon as Gary returned to us, the atmosphere changed, and Kristina became the doting daughter. I had never seen Gary so happy and so eager to please anyone else. I even noticed that he stopped bothering his thumb, maybe because he wore a band-aid over the raw part he opened during the past few days. After a leisurely dinner in the courtyard at the Court of Two Sisters, we headed back to the apartment. We all decided it had been a full day, and we were all settled in our beds before eleven. I fell asleep almost immediately.

  Sometime around dawn, I woke with a start. Raucous laughter made its way down the hallway of the apartment. Suddenly, I realized that the rhythmic pounding came from whoever was in the guest room.

  Gary walked into the living room still in his underwear rubbing his eyes and looking as if he was still sleeping.

  "What's going on?" He motioned toward the guest room.

  "Not sure. The noise just woke me up, too. I guess I slept pretty soundly last night."

  "Who'd she bring here? Doesn't she realize how dangerous this town is?"

  "I guess not. Should we go investigate?" I began pulling on my abandoned pants and running my fingers through my hair.

/>   The noise continued in the other room, and I tried not to imagine what the stranger might be doing with Kristina. "Should we do something?" I asked again. Gary stood immobilized in the center of the room.

  "You bet we do something. We throw whoever's in there with her out on his scrawny ass." He headed for the bedroom and knocked loudly several times before the noises stopped.

  "Kris, please come out here."

  Gary waited by the door for a few minutes before Kris appeared.

  "What?" she asked, standing in the doorway stark naked with her hair wildly surrounding her face.

  "Who's in there?" Gary pushed past her into the bedroom.

  There I stood facing Kristina, attempting to look anywhere but at her body. I finally turned away but not before absorbing the sight of her body into my memory bank.

  I could hear Gary give some commands and soon a scruffy-looking boy came bounding out of the room, zipping his pants and carrying his boots.

  "See you around, baby," he said as he leaned down to plant a loud smack on Kristina's forehead.

  Gary and his daughter stood glaring at one another even after the door slammed.

  "Don't ever bring slime like that into this apartment again," Gary said. "Your mother may not have had any rules for you, young lady, but you will follow my rules as long as you stay under my roof."

  Kristina started to protest, but when she looked up into Gary's face and saw the anger blazing from his eyes, she shut her mouth and slammed back into the bedroom.

  "Gary, how long is she staying here?" I asked when he came back into the living room.

  "We haven't really discussed it, but we've talked about going to Florida for Christmas, remember? I assumed she would stay at least until then."

  "Has she asked you for money?"

  "Not really. I noticed yesterday that she didn't seem to have cash, so I offered her some spending money. She seemed reluctant to take it. Why?"

  "I gave her some money the other night, too," I said.

  "Really? Why?" He seemed puzzled.

  "She said she was broke, and I felt sorry for her, that's all. But I wonder why she needs so much cash."

  "Not sure, but I'm not footing her bills to play the slut in New Orleans, that's for sure. Even if I do feel responsible for how she got this way." Gary turned to go into the kitchen.

  "I think you need to be wary. She may be your daughter, but you don't really know her. Remember, keep in perspective, for fifteen formative years you had no input into her life," I said as I followed him into the kitchen.

  "Ed, I know you mean well, but let me handle this my own way, OK?"

  "That's all, Gary, just be careful. I'm going to head back today. I think you and Kristina will be all right, and I've got some work to do."

  "You're going back today? I thought you were leaving Monday."

  "I thought you and Kristina should have more time alone before you go back to work on Monday." I did think they should have some time alone, but mostly I needed to get out of there.

  "You're probably right. I may not always show that I appreciate it, but you're a real friend, you know?" Gary grinned at me before turning back to make the coffee.

  I got up to finish packing before breakfast and tried not to feel guilty. If I was such a good friend to Gary, why did the image of Kristina as she stood naked in the doorway of the guest room keep popping into my mind and why did it take longer each time to brush it away? It remained as the only clear image in my mind of the whole weekend.

  He dreamed about her last night. He hoped that the creature of his imagination would become a reality. This apparition, his angel and vision of the perfect woman, walked toward him when he awoke, and he reached for her certain that his future would be secure. When his arms tried to embrace her, she disappeared into the mists, and his arms remained empty.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When they came to Florida for Christmas, Gary and Kristina spent large amounts of time socializing with the family since Claire and Philip made quite a fuss over the returning granddaughter. One night they insisted on throwing a bash for all the country club folks to introduce their own little princess.

  And a princess is exactly how they treated her. Kristina seemed quite at home with all of the attention and played her role to the hilt. I watched from the sidelines and even began to enjoy myself in her presence, although I made sure to avoid any alone time with her. That was fairly easy because between my mother, Claire, and Aunt Susan, Kristina had plenty of chaperones.

  I wondered if Kristina would get tired of the attention lavished on her. She certainly never received anything like it as a child except for maybe when she was a tiny baby before Pam took her away.

  Claire and Philip gave Kristina plenty of money to spend, and the women took her shopping nearly every day.

  "My car will only hold so much, Mom," Gary told Claire one afternoon when the "girls" returned from a shopping spree at the mall.

  "Maybe Kristina will have to stay here. How would that suit you, Mr. Selfish?" Claire reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  "Do you really think she needs all this stuff?" Gary asked.

  "Look who's talking. How many suits and ties do you own? Why shouldn't I enjoy spoiling her for a little while?"

  "OK, Mom, have your fun, but remember you created this monster."

  "Are you calling my granddaughter a monster?"

  "Not a chance, not a chance."

  I loved to watch Claire and Gary together like this without Philip around to spoil things. They enjoyed a casual relationship that I had never been able to establish with my own mother. Partially it had to do with Claire. She had an easy-going, accepting style with just about everyone. She was confidant and outgoing, whereas my own mother had always felt inadequate particularly around Claire. It showed in my mother's relationships with others; she couldn't let down her guard because I sensed she felt she might give away some inadequacy or character flaw if she let anyone get too close.

  One night between Christmas and New Years, Gary and I had the opportunity to talk alone in the kitchen at Claire and Philip's house. The night, a chilly one for Florida, kept us transplanted southerners at the kitchen table instead of taking our traditional walk through the neighborhood.

  "What will she do now?" I asked.

  "I'm not really sure. She hasn't talked about going back to Las Vegas, and I don't think she's even called her mother since she arrived. I've decided that she'll be welcome to stay with me under certain conditions."

  "And, they are?"

  "First, a job. She needs a job. I'm not going to foot her partying bills."

  "Have you told her this?"

  "In so many words."

  "How many words, Gary?"

  "Now, come on, Cuz, I'll tell her. It's not easy since I haven't had her around. At least she doesn't bring scum home anymore."

  "And you feel guilty?" I asked.

  "Maybe, I don't know." Gary shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands. "I worry though."

  "About what?"

  "She's a little wild, not like we were in college. Sometimes I don't think she's aware of what she's doing. It's like she doesn't have a conscience." Gary whispered this last sentence and looked over his shoulder as if someone might walk in on him and overhear.

  "But maybe with your influence?" I left the question hanging in the air.

  "Maybe, but she seems to make fun of me sometimes. Like I'm stupid or something. It's usually when I'm trying to show her some affection. It's a little scary."

  "Sometimes she does the same thing with me. She changes into this tough little street kid and tries to be hurtful."

  "When I bring up topics that seem like I might be criticizing her or suggesting that she might change in some way, she becomes defensive. That's why we haven't really discussed a job yet."

  "You need to put your foot down, Gary, really. If she wants to stay, she's got to work or go to school. You shouldn't feel like you owe her. Maybe you can get
her to take some college courses?" I really couldn't imagine Kristina going to school and taking it seriously, but maybe I hadn't seen that side of her.

  "I know, but I'm a little afraid." He hung his head and rubbed his hands together.

  Aunt Claire walked in the kitchen at this precise moment.

  "What are you afraid of, Gary?" she asked.

  "Nothing, really. I was just talking to Ed about Kris," he said.

  "Kris? What about her? Isn't she the beautifullest, most stupenderific granddaughter, ever?" She looked at us as if challenging us to disagree.

  "Yes, Mom, she's the best, but I think she needs to get a job."

  "Sure, sure. There's time for that. Give her time. Remember you boys weren't all that great at life and relationships when you first started out either. And you had my fine influence all the time you were growing up!"

  Claire had a point there although she didn't know half of it. Gary and I made messes out of our first marriages. The shame of it was that we never tried very hard to save either of them and were swept up into the relationships without considering our partners' feelings or needs. We just went along with the course of our life without thinking. And we both paid dearly.

  My toast and wishes for Pam and Gary at their wedding turned out to be horribly ironic. Almost from the beginning of my marriage to Ally, something went wrong. At first, we were busy with the decorating and refinishing of our new home. We did little else in our spare time. Both of us settled into comfortable positions at Pioneer High School. I taught creative writing and elective literature courses that I designed myself. Allison taught history and became an advisor for several service clubs bringing her into contact with the socially prominent Rotary and Kiwanis Clubs in Ann Arbor.

  When the house was finished, Allison began throwing elaborate dinner parties. At first, the guests consisted of her parents and some of their friends and their children who were our age. I didn't enjoy these events, but Allison thrived on making four course dinners and showing off her china, crystal, and gleaming house. She began scouring the antique markets and making rather substantial purchases for our home. She insisted that all of the pieces come from the same era as our house. Soon our dwelling began to look like a museum for antique American furniture and design.