He moved closer, put his arms around her and his head in her lap. “It’s all right, Nana. We’ll make up for it.”
Her thin arms eased around his shoulders. “I’ve been lonely for my family. Oh, I have a lot of friends, my church and my work with the library and the local aid society, but I miss having someone close that I belong to. Your grandfather died when Calvin was four, but he left me with a good insurance policy, and I saved it and used it to send Calvin to school. I made a decent living as a high-school math and physics teacher.”
He sat up and leaned against her chair. “I’ve always done well in math and physics. Maybe it’s in my genes.” She laughed, and he relaxed, grateful that she was apparently off that emotional high. “Don’t let me forget about your kitchen,” he said, knowing that he wouldn’t forget, but doing his best to shift her attention to a less emotional topic.
“You mean the drawers?”
“Right. That, and any other changes that will make life easier for you. Would you like a ride up and down those stairs?”
“Well, I do get tired of hiking up those stairs sometimes.”
“I’ll see what we can do.”
“I always wanted my grandchildren to be an intimate part of my life,” she said, “but I didn’t even ask the Lord for a grandson like you. Whatever you do for me, I will appreciate, but all I need from you is love. I’ll be happy with that.”
Later, he went through the house. “Who did this?” he asked her of a large landscape painting.
“I did,” she told him. “Painting is my hobby.”
“This is interesting, and it’s good work,” he said. “I’m getting a better idea of who I am and why I do what I do.”
“Do you paint, Lucas?”
“I sure do, and I love art.” He smiled and draped an arm around her shoulder. “Seems I’ve inherited a lot from you.” She smiled up at him and blinked rapidly, but he had already realized that she valued her composure and was unlikely to lose it.
After going through the house, he walked around the outside, admired the blooming spring flowers and the crepe myrtle trees heavy with red blooms that gave the grounds a festive air. His thoughts went to Susan, who also loved flowers and feminine surroundings. In recent weeks, he had neglected her, and at the moment, he wanted to share with her all that he’d experienced with his grandmother. The day passed swiftly, and at dusk, he prepared to leave.
“I brought this for you,” he said. “I wanted to give you something valuable, not financially, but of real value, so I brought you these.” He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a portfolio and handed it to her.
She opened it and looked through several pages. “Oh, dear. These are houses that you designed?”
“Yes, ma’am, and further on, you’ll see some other buildings.”
She closed the folder and clasped it to her breast. “I’m going to study it carefully and put it on my coffee table. Nothing you could have given me would have meant this much to me. You’re smart, and I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. I . . . I’m glad you like it. Well . . . I’ll see you again as soon as I can.”
“Don’t make it too long.”
She stood at the door, tiny and frail in the twilight, and he put his arms around her. “I’m good as my word, Nana. I’ll be back, and before that I’ll call you. This has been one of the most wonderful days of my life.” He kissed her cheek.
“For me, too, son. Go with the angels.” She handed him a small shopping bag and he got into the waiting taxi, waved and was soon out of sight.
He walked into his house at seven-thirty, threw his briefcase and jacket on a living room chair, put the little shopping bag on a counter in the kitchen, and headed up the stairs to his den. Suddenly, he realized how disappointed he would be if Susan were not at home. He dialed her number. “Hi, this is Lucas.”
“Hi. You do not have to tell me who you are; by now I recognize your voice. How are you?”
“I’m on some kind of high. So much is happening to me. I wish we were together so I could talk with you.”
“If it’s so important, we can fix that,” she said.
“What’s a friend if she’s not there for you when you need her?”
“It’s important,” he said, and waited.
“Okay. We can meet at Sam’s, or you can come here; but I can only offer you shrimp salad, hard rolls and coffee.”
Maybe he was begging for trouble, but if that’s what he got, he’d deal with it. “I’ll take the shrimp. May I bring you anything?” When she declined the offer, he told her he’d be there in twenty minutes. “I’ll bring along some delicious apple cobbler for dessert.”
“Great. I won’t ask where you got it, but I’ll enjoy it, because I love it.”
She greeted him with a kiss on his cheek, generating in him a feeling of emptiness, and he realized he needed greater intimacy with her. He hugged her, and watched her face mold itself into an expression of uncertainty. “The food is ready,” she said, and he knew he had undermined her self-assurance.
As they ate, he told her about his grandmother and how he happened to learn that he had one. “It’s been an unbelievable day for me, Susan. She . . . she’s such a sweet woman, warm and feminine, yet composed and accomplished like you. She’s softer than my mother, but I understand why: she had the love and support of her husband, and my mother didn’t have that.”
“Are you going to see her again?”
“As soon as I can. And I’m going to redesign her kitchen. She’s eighty-eight, though she neither looks nor acts it, and those stairs must be a burden for her. I’m going to put a chairlift on those steps. It’s amazing how much she and I have in common. I learned a lot about my father, too. You know, he’s really good to her, calls her a couple times a week and goes to see her at least once a month. That surprised me.”
“Why should it have? Isn’t that how you treat your mother? You’ve made your grandmother happy, and I’m glad for both of you. What does your mother say about this?”
“I haven’t told her yet. I suspect they’d like each other.”
“When will you see your mother?”
“Tomorrow.” He put the bag containing the apple cobbler on the table. “Let’s try this for dessert.”
“Your grandmother made it?” She bit into a piece. “Mmmm. This is wonderful.”
He nodded. “Sure is. Do I dare ask about your relationship with Rudy?”
She looked past his shoulder. “I guess you know that I haven’t taken your advice. Mrs. Price lets her spend some nights with me, and once, Nathan stayed with us. I was almost in tears when I had to take her home that Sunday night.”
It was going to backfire, and he wouldn’t be able to help her. “Have you done anything about adopting her?”
“I engaged a lawyer, but he apparently didn’t think it urgent, so I fired him. I’m looking for another one.”
“I know you love Rudy, but what I can’t understand is why you’d settle for adoption. You’re young.”
“Who said I’m settling for it?” she asked in whispered tones.
He wasn’t foolish. She had a love affair with children, and yet gave no indication of concern that her biological clock ticked away her chances of childbearing. He didn’t want to hurt her, so he said, “You’ll make a wonderful mother. The child who gets you will be fortunate indeed. Thank you for this evening. I needed to share this . . . what’s going on in my life.”
“What about your father? How is it with you and him?”
“I don’t know. The more I learn about him, and the better I get to know him, the less animosity I feel toward him. He . . . uh . . . his life is empty. He’s in a loveless marriage and has been for many years, and his daughters, especially the older one, are less attentive to him than I am.”
“Maybe he deserves it.”
“Somehow, I’m not so sure. He put everything into making it big, ensuring his family a good life. They have that, and that seemingly is all
they want from him. There’s no love in that family.”
He could see that something was on her mind, and that she was reluctant to voice it. “Go ahead,” he urged. “I can take it.”
Leaning forward and in a softer, sympathetic voice she said, “Did he love your mother?”
So she hadn’t wanted to hurt him. “Yes, I’m almost positive of that. What I can’t figure out is why he didn’t get a divorce and marry her. He could have paid off his wife.”
“Oh, that’s easy. In those days, divorce around here was frowned upon. Don’t forget, this is still the Bible belt. He wanted to get rich, and that meant being a good boy if he wanted to keep his grip on local patronage. It’s a pity.”
“Yeah. It cost him a lot.” The memory of his father warning him against doing that flashed through his mind. He stared at Susan, wondering why, after leaving his grandmother with love and joy churning in him, he’d felt such a driving need to share it with her. One thing was certain: he’d better watch his step.
Chapter Ten
Lucas parked the town car in his mother’s two-car garage, got the lawn mower and mowed the grass on the front lawn. Then, he found the pruning shears and trimmed the boxwood. By the time he pulled all the weeds from the tulip patch, he figured he’d had enough exercise for the day. His mother wouldn’t be home from church for another forty minutes or an hour, so he went in the kitchen to see what he could cook. He found a roasting hen in the refrigerator, seasoned it, stuffed it with herbs, put it on the spit, set the rotisserie, got his mother’s Sunday paper and a cup of coffee and made himself comfortable. It would be either a good day or a bad one, and he was prepared for both.
“Yoo-hoo! Where are you, Son?” His mother burst into the house like a curtain billowing in the breeze. “The front yard looks great”—he wondered why she always referred to the lawn as the yard—“and the shrubs look as if you manicured them. Did you get something to eat?”
He rested the coffee and newspaper on the table and went to greet her. “Hi. I’ll bet you turned heads today. You look great,” he said, hugging her.
She patted the back of her dark-green suede hat. “When I was your age, I had all of ’em doing double takes.”
He looked down at her and grinned. “I’ll bet you did. I seasoned your chicken and put it on the rotisserie.”
“Good. Put some sweet potatoes in the microwave. Everything else is cooked. Let me change my clothes. By the way, you didn’t tell me you were coming today. Anything special going on?”
“You may think so. Go on and change.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, but said nothing, for although she easily figured him out, she treated him as the man he was, and never tried to force his hand. With a half laugh, he recalled that she used her wiles on Willis rather than on him, possibly because she scored better with Willis.
“I was down in Athens yesterday,” he told her after she changed. It didn’t surprise him that she set the plate down on the table almost hard enough to shatter it.
“Who do you know in Athens?”
He walked over to her and put both arms around her. Her body communicated some resistance, but she didn’t move away. “After I questioned my father, he told me that his mother, my grandmother, was living in Athens, so I called her and went to see her. I’m glad I did, Mama. She’s a youthful eighty-eight. Did you know that she taught high school math and physics—my best subjects in school—and that she paints? She’s pretty good, too. Dad is her only child.”
Shock reverberated throughout his body when he realized he had referred to his father as Dad. “He takes good care of her,” Lucas continued in awed tones. “I learned a lot about myself and why I’m like I am. It’s a pity you never met her, because you would have loved her.”
She moved away from him then and looked into his eyes. “Because you love her?”
He shrugged. “Yes. I suppose I do. It’s impossible not to love her. Having her grandchild with her in her home made her so happy.”
A frown covered her face. “But she has two granddaughters.”
If she was fishing, he was not going to bite. “She didn’t know she had a grandson until several weeks back when Dad discovered he had to have that surgery. I told him I was going to see her, but I haven’t spoken with him since I got back.”
She turned back to the table and resumed setting it for their noonday meal. “Back then, I would have given anything to meet her, but after things went sour between Calvin and me—”
“Why did it go sour? Couldn’t you both have admitted that you made mistakes and parted friends?”
“Never!” she spat out. “That man loved me, but he loved money and status more. I’m no longer bitter, though, because you’ve been such a blessing to me, but I’ll love him as long as I breathe.”
He didn’t know what to make of it. “What do you want from him, Mama? He’s still married.”
“I know.” Her voice had a wistfulness that surprised him. “I can’t have him, but I long to know that he’s contented, that he’s well and . . . and comfortable. I know he’s not happy, because he loves me and he’s living with her.”
He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, walked to the other end of the dining room and back to her. “You’re telling me that love is that powerful, that it can last so long with nothing to fuel it?”
She stared at him. “Nothing to fuel it? We fell in love on sight, and for four years, we gave it all the fuel it needed. Haven’t you ever been in love?”
“I’m beginning to wonder.”
Susan looked through her mail and suddenly her heart seemed to stop beating. She clutched the envelope with Architectural Design in its return address, opened it with trembling fingers and read: “We’d like to do a story on you for publication along with photos of the wonderful house you’ve decorated. We love your ideas and the way you put colors and styles together.”
She couldn’t read any further, for tears blurred her vision. She put the letter aside, went into the living room and sat down. Suddenly, she jumped up and whooped for joy. She was going to be featured in one of the country’s leading design magazines. She twirled around and around, ran to the phone and dialed Cassie’s number.
“I just got a reply from the magazine, Cassie. They’re going to run the story, and they want to interview me.”
“Oh, goodness, Susan. I’m so excited. I bet Jay will be a spot of grease on Market Street when he sees that.”
Several days later a reporter arrived at Susan’s house along with a photographer, and Susan breathed deeply when at its conclusion, she had managed to get through the interview without relating personal facts that she would hate seeing in the years to come. She had no way of knowing the powerful impact that article would have on her life.
In the meantime, Jessica Burton was so delighted in having her home featured in a national magazine, that she introduced Susan to her friends, several of whom clamored for her services, although their homes did not need redecorating.
“You’re gonna fall flat on your ass,” Jay Weeks told her one afternoon while browsing in her shop. “You can’t maintain that standard, because anything you buy here is second rate and you can’t run to New York every time you need a yard of trimming. Then everybody will know you’re in the class with the rest of us.”
Deciding not to lose her temper, she forced a grin. “Not to worry, Jay. If I land on my fanny, I’ll find good company, because you’ll be down there sitting on yours. Now, would you please excuse me so I can stitch this braid?” He sauntered toward the door, and she called after him. “How’d you like the piece in Architectural Design? I thought it was rather elegant.”
“What piece? You can find all kinds of junk in magazines these days.”
Her bottom lip sagged. Why had she ever thought she could be friends with Jay Weeks? I don’t care what he thinks. It wouldn’t be junk if it was attributed to him. She picked up the remote control, turned on the CD player, changed her mood with Ray Charl
es’s “What I Say,” and was rocking to it when the telephone rang.
“Pettiford Interiors. This is Susan.”
“Hi. You sound happy, and well you should. That’s a spectacular piece Architectural Design has on you in this month’s issue. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Coming from you, that’s a real tribute, Lucas. Do you really like what I did with Jessica Burton’s house?”
“Absolutely. It gave me an idea. How’d you like to work with me at Hamilton Village? I need someone to decorate model apartments. It’ll take you a while, because the village consists of three buildings, each with a different design. If you’re willing, let me know your fee, and I’ll get my attorney to draw up a contract.”
He was serious? She hadn’t dreamed of such a plum of a job. “You mean you’ll pay whatever I charge? I’ve never done anything like that. I’ll have to look at the apartments, and I need to know what age and income level you’re shooting for.”
“But you’ll do it?”
“If we come to terms, definitely, and thanks for thinking of me.”
“Thinking of you is something I do with remarkable regularity.”
I’d better ignore that remark, she thought. What is it about this man that the sound of his voice can set me on fire?
“Aren’t you going to respond?” he asked, and she thought his voice carried the sound of hope, something that she had not associated with him, for he was a man who wore self-assurance the way judges wear their robes.
“I can’t encourage that sort of talk, Lucas. I’ve told you there can’t be anything between us but a platonic friendship.”
“You’re joking. Surely you don’t make love with all of your buddies. Anyway, you don’t believe that yourself. There’s already more between you and me than many married couples can boast of. You respond to me as no other woman has, and I’d better not get into what you do to me. The question is what we’ll do about it. Frankly, this unresolved relationship is getting to me. Someday you’re going to tell me why you started it.”
“I told you—”
“Oh, sure, you told me something, but the better I know you, the less I believe that explanation.”
Getting Some Of Her Own Page 20