If a person didn’t know his beginnings, how could he know where he was going in life? He now had the wherewithal to make that search, if he wanted to. Hatch would help him. Jesus, what if he needed a bone-marrow transplant someday and he couldn’t tell the doctors anything about his parents? Hell, he’d just up and die if they couldn’t find a match or whatever it was they did in such situations.
What was it Judge Summers, his mentor, had said? “Leave it alone, Bode. You can’t undo the past. You might stir up something you aren’t prepared to deal with.” So, he’d listened and hadn’t done anything. But not doing anything had held him back from forming relationships, because he didn’t have a background before the age of six. Girls, women in particular, always wanted to know about parents, bank accounts, and things like that. Grandparents always came into play when the word marriage entered the conversation.
He wished now, as he had wished millions of other times, that Clemson Parker had adopted him the way he planned to. At the time he’d just been so grateful to be allowed to stay at Parker Manor he didn’t consider the adoption important. Nor did it become really important until he went away to college. Or maybe it became important the day Callie said, “The Judge told me that there’s barely enough money for me to go to college so you can’t expect me to share my fund with you.” Then she’d gone on to say she didn’t mean that the way it sounded—but she had meant it. He’d wanted to hit her that day, to tell her it was he who had paid for her brand-new bicycle, all those pretty dresses and fancy shoes. He’d even paid for her first car, a shiny little Triumph, and all those dancing lessons, riding lessons, piano lessons. He’d honored his commitment, paid his dues, earned his keep, and been kind to Callie Parker. The Judge said it would build his character, make him a better person. He was right, it had—but at what cost to him personally?
For a time he was in love with Callie Parker, or as much in love as a schoolboy can be. He’d never acted on those feelings in any way. Mama Pearl reminded him, gently, for she always did things gently, that he had to stay in his place, and because he loved her and respected her, he’d done what she said.
Then he’d fallen in love with Sela, and Pearl had taken him out to the barn and laced into him with a vengeance. She said she couldn’t control what Sela did away from Parker Manor, but she wasn’t going to allow such goings-on at home. Instead she’d instructed him how to tactfully, and in a gentlemanly way, tell Sela that her behavior was unladylike. When he’d tried, Sela had laughed wickedly, and said, “Want to experiment?” He’d taken off like a scalded cat. He’d gotten so many hard-ons that year he thought his penis was going to fall off.
Then came the fights. The boys at school learned early on not to tangle with Bode Jessup, so if they had sex with Sela they didn’t brag about it. It was the best he could do. Then, as if by magic, Sela settled down and really listened to him during her last year in high school. In college she had several affairs that she said were meaningful, but the men weren’t marriage material. Then she’d paid him the supreme compliment by saying, “I’m looking for another Bode Jessup.” .
“Briana Canfield.” Bode watched as his childhood friend reached out to shake the dean’s hand. He brought his own hand to his mouth and let loose with a long, sharp whistle, the same kind of whistle he’d practiced when they were children and it was time to go fishing and the girls lagged behind. He watched as Brie turned and almost tripped, a stunned look on her face. She knew it was him; he could see her eyes search the crowd.
Bode interrupted his roll call to rub the grit from his eyes. He felt sober once more, and wondered if he really was. He must be; otherwise, why was he dwelling so much on the past? Because I feel goddamn guilty, that’s why, he told himself. I was always here, there, whatever, never more than a phone call away. He wasn’t just leaving Mama Pearl, Callie, and Sela; he was leaving Brie, too.
He was in love with Brie. Somehow, the freckle-faced girl had sneaked into his heart, carved out a niche, and refused to budge. He’d tried so many times, but just when he thought he was succeeding by loading down his days with studies, other activities and then his law practice, he’d tire out and then he’d dream about her. All night long.
He’d let her go, because Mama Pearl said he wasn’t to mess with the girls. He’d let her go off to college to become a woman to be reckoned with. The only thing was, he hadn’t reckoned with her. He’d let it all go by him because he was gutless. He just knew she was a hell of a cop. Detective, actually. But she hadn’t called him when she was in trouble—not until she really had it pretty much under control and needed to hear him say so. That was Brie. Brie could do anything, be anything, because she was Brie.
Bode let his mind go back in time once more, to Brie’s graduation. He’d hitchhiked from Washington and got there just in time to let loose with his famous whistle when she accepted her diploma. The look on her face had been worth all the time he had spent on the road.
She spotted him as the new graduates filed out. He was grinning from ear to ear, a single red rose in his hand and a bag of boiled peanuts in the other. She stepped aside, right into his outstretched arms, crying words of joy he would always remember. He was hugging her, squeezing her and then he kissed her—not one of those friendly, fraternal kisses either. He was light-headed, his knees weak.
“You kissed me!” Brie said.
“Yep.”
“I liked it. Do it again.”
He did.
“God,” was all she could say.
“Let’s go celebrate. I have six dollars and fifty cents.”
“I have a hundred. The Judge sent it to me. We can go out on the town if you want. Do you want to? I do. I’m so happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. Are you happy, Bode? I couldn’t believe it when I heard you whistle. I knew it was you, I just knew it,” she babbled. “How’d you get here?”
“I hitchhiked, and I have to hitchhike back so we’re just going to have time for me to spend the six-fifty on some hot dogs and a couple of beers. I wish I could stay longer, but I can’t.”
“Listen, I have an idea. I’ll give you the hundred dollars the Judge sent me, and you can take the train back. Then we’ll have more time to spend together. I want to go to bed with you,” she said happily. “A friend of mine is letting me use her apartment tonight because she’s spending this last night with her boyfriend. Did you hear me, Bode? I’m propositioning you.”
“And I’m turning you down. Not because I want to—I just couldn’t bear for you to have regrets later. Right now you’re happy I’m here and—”
“And you love Callie Parker, and I’m a poor replacement. It’s okay, Bode. You’re right, I got carried away. Don’t give it another thought.” She smiled. “Someday you’re going to regret this.”
“I already do.” Bode laughed.
“How’s law school?”
“Tough.”
“I bet,” Brie said. “Is there going to be a strain between us now?”
“No. There are no words to tell you how . . . flattered I am that you would even consider . . . Come on, I’m hungry.”
“Me too. Just remember, Bode Jessup, it’s your loss.”
“I’ll always remember that, Brie.”
“Let me make sure I have this all straight so I don’t make a fool out of myself again where you’re concerned. You came a long distance, and hitchhiked to boot. You’re treating me to dinner and then you are going to get on your stick and hitchhike back, the same long distance. I want to thank you for that. For being my friend all these years. You have no idea what our friendship means to me. Well, maybe you do.” She grinned wryly. “As corny as this may sound, when I offered myself to you, I wasn’t being grateful or anything like that. It was something I have wanted to do for a very long time. I wasn’t asking for commitment, a relationship. I simply wanted it to happen. I need to know, am I repulsive, am I funny-looking, am I too skinny or is it this pimple on my chin? I guess you don’t find me attractive. It’s
a little hard to swallow all that since I’ve been attracted to you since we were kids. Why did you turn me down? I have to know, Bode. I don’t want one of those ‘because I said so’ answers either. It’s Callie, isn’t it?”
“There you go, answering for me,” Bode said quietly. “Look, I’m illegitimate. I have no idea who my parents were. A person needs to know that or come to terms with it. I haven’t done that yet. I understand why Mama Pearl wouldn’t marry Lazarus because she didn’t have a last name. I gave myself my name. I don’t think the man has been born yet who wouldn’t find you attractive. As for the pimple on your chin, it’s . . . endearing. We were always such good friends and don’t think, even for a second, that I will ever forget how you busted your butt with me to help Mama Pearl.”
“Don’t you mean Callie?” Brie asked tightly.
“Callie, too,” Bode said soberly.
“Do you know what I remember the most? Both of us busting our humps so Callie could get that fancy dress and shoes to go to the prom. Four boys asked me to go, but I didn’t have enough money for the prom gown. Sela didn’t have a dress either, but Callie was decked out to the nines. I remember the day you handed Pearl the money. She all but swooned. Her baby was going to the prom and be outfitted like a queen. Do you remember what we did that night, Bode? We played records under the angel oak and you danced with me and Sela. Even Pearl came out to dance with us. And Callie didn’t even say thank you. She expected it, and we made it happen.”
“Didn’t it make us better people, Brie?”
“Look, I didn’t do it for Callie. Get that straight right now. I did it to ease the pain in Pearl’s eyes and to take some of the load off your shoulders. You were too damn skinny to carry so much weight around. Damn you, Bode, you aren’t Callie’s savior. When is she going to wake up and see the world the way it is?”
“Are you sorry, Brie?” Bode asked quietly.
“Sometimes,” Brie said honestly. “Like right now. I threw myself at you and you turned me down. I guess I thought you’d remember the old days and . . . you know. We aren’t kids anymore. Both of us are old enough to take responsibility for our actions. You didn’t answer my last question,” she said with a bite in her voice.
“Brie, I love you. I love Callie, and I love Sela. When we were younger and I couldn’t sleep because I was bone tired I would lie in bed and fantasize about all three of you. One night it would be you, one night Callie, and one night Sela. Hell, there was one night we had an orgy. In glorious Technicolor. I won’t muck up the friendship we all have.”
He could see her anger building. “Is that how you look at it—mucking up a friendship? Do you know what I think, Bode? I think you need to do some more fantasizing about Callie and then go to her and make it happen. The golden girl is going to hang over your head for the rest of your days if you don’t. I like Callie and yeah, I’m jealous. I work on that all the time. It’s clear to me you need to do the same thing. Thanks for showing up. I’ll try and do the same when you graduate from law school. The hot dogs were great. I’ll have heartburn all night.” She bolted from the students’ beer cellar, but stopped in the doorway long enough to shout, “I hate you, Bode Jessup!” Then she ran across the campus.
A kindly grandmother picked up Bode for the first leg of his journey back to Washington. They talked for a bit and then Bode fell silent. He had a lot of thinking to do, but the lady was so nice he didn’t want to offend her.
“You look tired, young man. Did you graduate today?”
“No. I came to see a friend of mine graduate. I hitchhiked from Washington. It was a nice graduation.”
“Are you just tired or are you unhappy?” the grandmother asked shrewdly.
“A little of both I guess. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the female psyche.”
“You and half the men in the world. Don’t fret, young man. I always say if something is meant to be, it will be. Remember one thing—a smile is universal. People respond to a smile. It takes fewer muscles to smile than it does to frown. I am a retired librarian and I know these things. If you’d like to talk, I’m a good listener. My husband was a professor at Boston College, and he would talk my ear off for hours on end when he was alive. I like to think I gave him a lot of input in those days. When you hold things inside too long they have a tendency to fester. Now, if you’d rather sit there and stare out the window I won’t say another word.”
After that invitation, the words tumbled out so fast Bode had a hard time catching his breath. When he finally wound down and repeated Brie’s last words he choked up.
“Life is never easy, son. My husband would say it’s time you either fished or cut bait, but I sense you aren’t ready to do that yet. When do you think you will be ready?”
“I don’t know,” Bode said miserably.
“Have you given any thought to the fact that perhaps you don’t want to relinquish your—for want of a better word— hold over all four women? You need to ask yourself if you really are trying to pay back for being allowed to move into the Parker family, or have you been helping and doing without so you’ll have some kind of hold over them? Now, I know that sounds callous, but it is a possibility. I hope you’ll forgive me for saying this, but your friend Callie sounds to me like a very selfish young woman. Your friend Brie, on the other hand, sounds like a bit of a martyr. From what you said, all her sacrifices were for you. For you to smile at her, to say, good girl, give her a pat on the head. That’s love, young man. As to your friend Sela, I see she doesn’t involve herself—and maybe that’s good and maybe it isn’t. I guess it’s who she is.”
“I always say I’m going to sit down and think things through, but when that time comes I find something else to do,” Bode confessed. “I know I have a mental block. It’s just easier not to think about it. I guess when I finish law school and go it alone I’ll be able to sort it all out.”
“Are you in love with any of those women?” the grandmother asked. “Now, I’m not talking about puppy-love feelings, I’m talking about adult feelings and where those feelings lead.”
“I’m illegitimate, ma’am.”
“Oh, pish and tosh,” the grandmother snorted. “This is almost the millennium—and things like that don’t mean anything anymore. I’ll be dropping you off soon. You can hitch on Interstate 90. I don’t think you’ll have a bit of trouble. Lots of people are heading to Washington at this hour.”
“I appreciate the ride and your advice. By the way, my name is Bode Jessup.”
“I’m Lillian Ingersol. I’m in the phone book if you ever feel the need to talk. You can call me any time of the day or night. I miss that, you know. Students used to call Henry at all hours and then we’d discuss their plight and try to help. I know how to keep my lip zipped, too,” she said, gurgling with laughter.
Lillian slowed and pulled over to the curb. “You be careful whose car you get into, Bode. There are some mighty weird people out there.”
“But you picked me up,” Bode said, puzzled.
“That’s because I’m a keen judge of character. You looked so forlorn and miserable I just knew you needed a kind word and a hug.” She leaned over and put her arms around him. “Henry would say you were worth taking the time to get to know. Try and be happy and only do what you can. Other people need to take responsibility for themselves, and I’m not talking about your Mama Pearl here.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Ingersol. I appreciate you listening. I’ll call.”
“You be a good boy now. I’m sorry, I’m so used to saying that I find it hard to stop. Get on with you now.” She waved as she looked behind her before pulling back onto the road. Bode watched the car until it was out of sight.
What was it Sela always said? “Life’s a bitch, and then you die.”
Bode raised his eyes. “Help me,” he whispered.
The kitchen chair Bode was sitting on thumped to the floor. Two down and one to go. Brie offered herself to him and then said she hated him. Callie had done the sam
e thing today—or was it yesterday? He squinted at the clock. Yesterday. Everything in his life could now be relegated to yesterday. There was a time in his life when he loved all his yesterdays, but not anymore.
4
They were giddy young girls again, cuddling under the lacy canopy of the high four-poster. Only this time they weren’t whispering about what it would be like to “do it.” Now they were all grown-up and could talk openly.
Calliope Parker, Callie to her friends Sela and Briana, picked at a frayed thread on the spread, her eyes starry and a bit misty. “I told both of you all good things come to those who wait,” she said happily.
“I hate that sappy look on your face,” Sela grated as she, too, picked at a loose thread on Callie’s bedspread. “I can’t believe you waited all this time to get married. You’re going to be thirty at the end of the year.” She made the word thirty sound obscene.
“And end up like you,” Brie said quietly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sela demanded.
“It means you were so damn hot to get in the sack with that Neanderthal you married, you didn’t take the time to get to know him the way Callie has gotten to know Wyn Archer. You saw all his money, and that’s all you saw. Now that he wants some nubile eighteen-year-old, you’re out in the proverbial cold. You’ll be lucky if you get the clothes on your back. As smart as you say you are, I’m surprised you didn’t sock away a few ‘jools,’ ” Brie said, not unkindly.
“Is that another way of saying I shouldn’t hit you up for a loan? Don’t worry, either one of you. I can handle this—and so what if I run up a few thousand dollars in legal bills? I can get a job. You got one, so there’s hope for me,” Sela sniped.
“I thought weddings, mine in particular, would bring out the good things in both of you. What’s wrong, what’s happening here that I’m missing?” Callie asked as she ripped a huge thread from the spread. She tied it in a double knot as she stared at her two best friends.
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