Reckless Moon

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “Will you have lunch with me?” he asked, still holding her.

  “I can’t, Bram. I have to meet a client in town.”

  “So that’s it?” he said. “You just go off to your meeting and I don’t see you anymore?”

  “You’ll see me on business in your office.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” He released her, stepping away. “How can you be so distant with me after what we shared?”

  “That was your choice, Bram, not mine,” Beth replied quietly.

  He nodded slowly, looking away. “It must be obvious, even to you, that I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said.

  “It’s obvious that you have to make up your mind about what you want.”

  Bram continued to look past her, his eyes distant “And you won’t wait forever, will you?” he finally said.

  Beth didn’t answer, thinking that she probably would.

  His eyes returned to hers. “You are one classy lady, do you know that? I took from you the most precious gift a woman has to offer, and then left with hardly a word. And you handled it like a champ: no tears, no recriminations, just the most perfect example of style and grace I’ve ever seen.” He shook his head. “Why did I walk away?”

  “You have to answer that for yourself.”

  He bent his head, jamming his hands into his pockets. The doors of Room Two swung open behind them and disgorged a flood of litigants.

  “I’ll go,” Bram said, looking up, “and let you get to your lunch. Thanks for going with me. You kept me from blowing up and getting into worse trouble.”

  “Goodbye,” Beth said, watching as he blended into the crowd and finally vanished through the door.

  He’s turning to me, Beth thought, as she walked to the desk to file his disposition papers. He talked to me, and told me what he was really thinking. No more tough lines about everyone being alone and learning to take care of yourself. He had shared a little of his mind with her, and she knew that with Bram that was a far more important portion than his body.

  Beth nodded to another lawyer with whom she had a passing acquaintance, and then handed in her paperwork. She signed the register, then looked at her watch. Plenty of time to get into Suffield to meet her lunch date.

  As she snapped her purse closed, the golden charm she wore flashed with a glint of diamonds.

  She smiled, and headed for the door.

  CHAPTER 9

  Two days later the phone was ringing as Beth let herself into her house. She put down her overnight case and dropped her purse on the hall table, hurrying to answer it.

  “All right, all right, I’m coming,” she muttered, picking up the receiver. She cradled it between her neck and shoulder and bent to remove her shoes.

  “Hello?” she said breathlessly.

  “Beth!” Marion’s voice was urgent “Where on earth have you been?”

  “I went to Boston, Marion. I told you about it. My old boss referred a case to me and I went up there to discuss it with him. Why? What’s the matter? You sound like you thought I went to Japan.”

  “I did. I’ve been trying to reach you. When are you going to get a secretary, or at least a service to take messages?”

  “I just bought a machine, Marion, give me a break. You act like I’m made of money. Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

  There was a pause. Then, “Bram’s father had another stroke.”

  Beth sank slowly into a chair. “How bad is he?” Beth asked.

  “Not good. Bram was looking everywhere for you last night; he even called me, which is an indication of how desperate he was to find you.”

  “Oh, God,” Beth whispered. Why did this have to happen the minute she left town? “Is Bram at the house?” she asked Marion.

  “Yes. He’s got a private duty nurse there around the clock. He’s in rough shape, Beth. He really sounds like he needs you.” Marion cleared her throat. “It amazed me how broken up Bram was about it. I never thought he cared much for his father.”

  Beth closed her eyes. Marion didn’t understand Bram at all. No one does, Beth thought. No one but me.

  “Marion, I have to go. I’ll get right over there. Thanks for calling.” She hung up before Marion could reply, reaching for her shoes again. She grabbed her purse and ran out the door.

  * * *

  The Curtis house was one of the most impressive homes in the valley. It was a two story colonial with a front veranda running the length of the house, supported by tall columns, which gave it the look of a Southern plantation house. A long drive led up to it through rows of oaks standing like sentinels on either side. In the distance Beth could see the first of the tobacco barns that stretched along the landscape for miles. The harvest was in now, and the leaves were drying, tacked to the doors of the sheds. These flipped upward like the pages of a stenographer’s notebook, exposing the green leaves to the parching sun. To the right were the buses used to carry the pickers to and from town, still and silent now, parked at random like the discarded toys of a child who had outgrown them. Beth drove into the paved semicircle that faced the house and got out, noticing the presence of several unfamiliar cars. There were others inside besides Bram.

  The nurse answered the door. “May I help you?” she said politely, looking Beth over with detachment.

  “I’m Beth Forsyth, I live down the road. Mr. Curtis has been asking for me.”

  The woman’s demeanor changed immediately. “Of course,” she said, taking Beth’s hand and pulling her inside. “Mr. Curtis has been very upset. But he won’t talk to me; I don’t know what to do for him.”

  “How is his father?” Beth asked, noticing the hushed, almost expectant atmosphere of the house, indicating the presence of an invalid.

  The nurse raised her brows. “The doctor is with him now. I can’t say. He seems aware of what’s going on around him, though.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” Beth asked eagerly.

  “He can’t talk, miss,” the nurse added flatly.

  “At all?” Beth said, alarmed.

  The nurse shook her head. “And his son has been crazy. He threw the cleaning woman the agency sent over right out of the house, said she was making too much noise. And he was asking for you all the time, sent that young lady to look for you.”

  “What young lady?”

  “Short, blonde, with a little girl.”

  Mindy. “Is she still here?”

  “No, she had to leave. She said to tell you if you arrived that she would call later.”

  “Is Bram alone? Where is he?”

  “In the library, miss. He said not to let anyone in but you.”

  “I’ll go and see him,” Beth said, walking past the nurse, and then stopping. “I’m sorry, forgive me. What is your name?”

  “Mrs. Harkness.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Harkness. Thanks for filling me in. Do you know Mrs. Lopez? She’s a practical nurse on pediatrics at Johnson.”

  “No, miss. I don’t work out of the hospital; I get my assignments from my agency.”

  “Oh, I see. I’m glad you were able to help out here.”

  Mrs. Harkness nodded. “He’s very much alone, isn’t he?” she asked. “The son, I mean.”

  “Yes,” Beth whispered. “But he wants it that way.”

  “I don’t know about that,” the woman said wisely. “He wanted you here, miss.”

  Beth patted Mrs. Harkness’ hand. “Thank you for saying that. And please call me Beth. I’ll see you later.” She made her way through the deep entry hall, recalling the layout of the house, unable to remember the last time she’d been inside it. The library was at the back, behind the living room, and Beth noticed the change in decor. Bram’s mother had favored antiques and family heirlooms, and after she died the men had kept it pretty much as she’d left it, until the advent of Anabel. Now the furniture was stark and modern, chrome and glass, which did not go well with the style of the house or its male occupants. It looked as if it had been done by a deco
rator, and Beth could well imagine what Bram thought of it. Obviously he had been too busy with the business and his father’s ill health to do anything about it since Anabel’s departure. But her choice had been an effective one; the memory of Bram’s mother was muted almost into silence.

  Beth halted outside the closed library door. She knocked. There was no response, so she turned the knob and pushed it inward.

  The room was dark, but even so it was obvious that Anabel’s modernization project had made no inroads here. Someone had insisted on leaving the place alone, and it was as Beth remembered it, filled with books and plaques, trophies and family pictures, much like Beth’s father’s den at home. There was a large portrait of some Curtis ancestor over the fireplace, mounted in a heavy gold frame. Beth looked around the room, which appeared to be empty, and would have left except that she caught the strains of music coming from the stereo standing in a corner. It was Debussy’s Afternoon of a Faun.

  “Bram?” she said softly. “Are you in here?”

  He stood, peering at her through the gloom. He’d been slouched in an armchair behind the rolltop secretary, hidden from view. “Beth?” he said hoarsely.

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Beth,” he repeated, coming toward her across the room. He caught her in his arms and held her silently, dropping his head to her shoulder.

  “I came as soon as I heard,” she said. It was strange; he was so much bigger, but she felt as if she were cradling him, comforting him.

  “I tried to find you,” he mumbled.

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I was away overnight on business. I talked to the nurse, Mrs. Harkness. She’s very nice, Bram. She says your father is aware of everything and I’ve heard that’s a very good sign.”

  He raised his head and looked at her, his eyes bleak. “He can’t talk and he can’t move his left side at all. It’s much worse than the first stroke. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that.”

  “He can have a therapist for that, Bram. They can work wonders.”

  Bram pulled free of her. “He’s had a therapist all this time, and look where it got him. The doctor isn’t sure if he’ll make it through the night.”

  “But if he does? Isn’t there a chance he’ll recover?”

  Bram shrugged despairingly. “That’s what they say. But what do they know? They thought he was doing fine; that’s what they kept telling me. And look what happened.”

  “Did you find him?”

  Bram nodded. “The nurse had left for the day. I came home late and went upstairs to check on him. He was lying on the floor next to the bed.” He swallowed and looked away. “God knows how long he was there.”

  “Bram, that wasn’t your fault.”

  “I left him,” Bram said softly, not listening. “I left him alone too long.”

  “That isn’t true,” Beth said evenly. “The most it could have been was a couple of hours.”

  Bram shook his head. “No. I meant when he got married again. I never should have left him alone with her.”

  Beth didn’t know what to say.

  “You were right,” he added softly. “I ran away. You said it, and you were right.”

  “Bram, that doesn’t matter now,” Beth said desperately, wishing that she could call back the hurtful words, trying to steer him away from such painful territory. She was afraid she might reveal that she knew too much about the real reason for his departure.

  “I never did it,” Bram muttered.

  “What?”

  He looked down at her, his eyes distant. “Remember when you told me to talk to him, straighten things out between us? I never did it, and now it may be too late.”

  “It isn’t too late. You’ll still be able to talk to him, you’ll see.”

  “There are things he doesn’t know, things he doesn’t understand,” Bram went on, almost to himself. Beth knew he was talking about Anabel. “And I can never tell him.”

  “Then tell him that you love him,” Beth said quietly.

  Bram turned his head away. “I can’t say it,” he whispered.

  Beth choked back tears. His pain was so palpable she could almost touch it herself. How awful to feel something so deeply and yet be unable to express it. Bram was trapped in the prison of his own silence.

  “Yes, you can,” Beth urged. “When the doctor says it’s okay go up and talk to your father.”

  Bram pushed his hair back in that characteristic gesture, not answering. After a moment he said, “I was always such a disappointment to him. He wanted me to go to college, get a business degree, take over Curtis Broadleaf.” He laughed bitterly. “I didn’t even graduate high school. Did you know that I’m the first son in four generations never to attend college?”

  “Bram, don’t torture yourself about this now. It won’t do any good.”

  “I was always in trouble, an embarrassment,” Bram continued. “I even screwed up the one thing I was good at that he liked, sports. He was proud of that. See all these trophies?” he said, making a sweeping gesture around the room. “They’re all mine. Most valuable player, conference champion, halfback of the year. But I had to get thrown off the team. I had to ruin that for him, too.”

  “That was all a long time ago,” Beth said wildly, trying to stem the flood of remembrance. But she knew that it was useless. Bram had stored all this up for years, and his father’s closeness to death had broken the dam and unleashed the flood.

  “It was because of her,” Bram said viciously. “Even that was because of her.”

  “Who?” Beth asked.

  “The coach made a remark about my stepmother,” Bram said softly. “He said my father was old, and I might be more to her taste. She was young, and so was I.”

  Beth held her breath.

  “I punched him,” Bram said. “I let him have it, and got thrown off the team. I had a chance at a scholarship, but I blew it. And all because of that scheming, money hungry witch.”

  There was a knock at the door. Bram turned away, and Beth went to answer it.

  It was the doctor.

  “Is he worse?” Bram asked dully, not looking at the man.

  “No, not at all. He seems alert. Would you like to see him?”

  Bram looked at Beth. She nodded, pushing him gently toward the door. Bram took a deep breath, and then brushed past the doctor into the hall.

  Beth sat down hard, feeling as if she had just run a race. What a well of feeling lay beneath Bram’s hard facade. She hoped she had given him the right advice. A bad experience with his father now would ruin him. She said a silent prayer that everything would go well upstairs, and then looked up to find the doctor staring at her.

  “Do you think Mr. Curtis should be taken to a hospital?” Beth asked him.

  “No, I don’t want to move him. Mrs. Harkness can look after him here, and I’ll drop back tomorrow morning. Please tell Abraham that.”

  Beth nodded, and he slipped out of the room. She got up to shut off the stereo, which was still playing softly, and heard the phone ringing elsewhere in the house. A few seconds later Mrs. Harkness appeared.

  “The telephone is Mrs. Harris, for you.”

  Beth followed the nurse into the hall, asking her, “Is Bram still with his father?”

  “Yes.”

  Beth picked up the receiver as Mrs. Harkness walked away. Silence descended again as her footsteps faded.

  “Hello, Mindy,” Beth said.

  “I see Marion finally found you,” Mindy greeted her.

  “The phone was ringing as I came through the door.”

  “How are things there?” Mindy asked.

  “Pretty shaky. What time did you leave?”

  “Several hours ago, around four this afternoon, I guess. Jass Lopez was there, too, before Mrs. Harkness came. Jass is crazy about Bram, you know.”

  “I know.”

  Mindy snorted. “Typical Bram. He acts like a raving maniac most of the time, and what’s the result? Half the female population of Connecti
cut follows him around in a trance.”

  “He doesn’t act like a maniac,” Beth said defensively.

  “Of course he does. It’s just that the rest of the time he’s so charming that it doesn’t matter.”

  “Mindy, did you call me up to tell me this?”

  “Sorry. How’s Joshua?”

  “The doctor seems to think he’s a little better now.”

  “And Bram?”

  “Not so hot. He looks terrible.”

  “So what?” Mindy said. “Even when he looks bad, he looks good.”

  “I mean it, Mindy. I’m worried about him.”

  “Worry about yourself,” Mindy replied tartly. “Underneath the looks and the temperament Bram got from his mother is the steel spine he inherited from Joshua. Bram will survive.”

  “You don’t sound very sympathetic. His father could be dying.”

  Mindy sighed loudly. “I am sympathetic, Beth. It’s just that I don’t have the tolerance for his moods that you do.” There was a pause. “But then, I’m not in love with him.”

  And you don’t know the whole story either, Beth thought.

  There was a muffled commotion on the other end of the line. Mindy covered the mouthpiece and said something, and then returned to Beth.

  “I have to go,” she announced. “Tracy has recently decided that there is a monster in her closet, so every night at bedtime I have to stand attendance and turn on all the lights. By the time she goes to sleep it looks like we’re shooting a movie in her bedroom.”

  Beth chuckled. Trust Mindy to supply some very welcome comic relief. “Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Give me a call if you need anything,” Mindy said, and hung up.

  Beth wandered back to the library, turning on a light to alleviate the darkness. She heard a pattering on the roof, and drew aside a curtain to look outside. It had begun to rain.

  There was a sound behind her and Beth turned to find Bram leaning against the far wall, his eyes closed.

  He looked spent and somehow thinner, as if the day’s ordeal had wasted him physically as well as emotionally. He had pulled at his hair so much that it stood up in cowlicks all over his head, and the tail of his shirt was out, draped over his jeans like a referee’s flag. His arms hung limply at his sides.