Yesterday

by Fern Michaels

  He hadn’t told Callie about the dinner and wasn’t sure why. Now that the time was almost here he knew he was going to have to tell her. He’d made up his mind that after speaking with the doctors he was going to tell her everything. Either she handled it or she didn’t. He hadn’t called her, hadn’t gone to visit her since the call to tell her about Sela’s baby. She’d phoned him many times, though, and on each occasion was more petulant-sounding than the one before.

  “Listen, Bode, when you get there, buy all the stuff for the kid,” Hatch said. “I swear to God a man could go off to war with less gear than it takes for a baby to survive. Buy one of everything. We’ll leave it there; Jake won’t mind. Here’s the key. Don’t worry about the trial. I’ll tell the Judge you’re going for prostate-testing at Columbia. He’s had the same problem so he’ll be sympathetic. Sela said to get a big bird, twenty-five pounds. Here’s the list. Oh, and get plenty of diapers. See if you can line up a sitter, too. Sela wants to show me New York. Can you handle all this, Bode?”

  “Guess I’m gonna have to. Don’t worry. You’re sending a man to do a man’s job and a man is going to do it. I gave the house to Arquette and Coletta, and it will stay in their family forever and ever,” he said breathlessly.

  “White folk had it long enough?”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “Good luck with all those specialists. We’re not sure when Brie is going to get there. She’s on a job. She called Sela last night, and I heard them whispering, which means Brie was probably telling her something she wasn’t supposed to tell her and Sela was swearing she wouldn’t let it go past her. I think she’s on that stakeout the FBI has going on with the crazy guy in western Pennsylvania. I don’t even know if stakeout is the right word. You know—that mess that’s been on television for weeks now.”

  “Brie’s on that case?” Bode thundered.

  “Whoa, Bode, hold on there. I said I didn’t know. Hey, she’s an FBI agent. If she is on it, they wouldn’t have sent her if she couldn’t handle it. The key word here is if. She could be shuffling papers in Savannah for all I know. What she does is none of your business anyway.”

  Bode stared at Hatch for a long time before he stalked out of the office. Hatch raised his eyes. “Listen, I got big plans for those two over Thanksgiving. I could use a little heavenly help where they’re concerned. Amen,” Hatch said.

  Jake Deering’s apartment turned out to be a three-story brownstone on East Seventy-eighth Street that was badly in need of serious repairs. Yet even if it was sold as is, Bode knew it would fetch close to three million, and he felt that was a conservative estimate.

  He settled himself on the third floor hoping Little Hatch’s lusty, middle-of-the-night yowls wouldn’t reach him. And he was far enough away to give Hatch and Sela some privacy.

  He did two things immediately. He called Macy’s and ordered one of everything Sela had on her list. They promised delivery the following day. His second call was to the Food Emporium. He read off Sela’s list. Delivery would be at six o’clock. His third call was to a liquor store on the avenue. He ordered four cases of Foster’s beer, five bottles of champagne, a bottle of Chivas and one of Crown Royal, all favorites of Hatch. He also ordered a case of diet soda for Sela and Brie. His last call was to the management company. He asked for a cleaning service that afternoon and agreed to pay double for calling at such short notice.

  He killed another hour at a deli before he headed to the hospital to talk to Callie’s doctor. In the latter’s opinion, Callie was holding back. “She’s progressed better than we ever dreamed,” the doctor told him. “Lately, though, she appears to be regressing. At least, that’s what she’d like us to believe. She’s very strong-willed. Let me give you an example. Yesterday she wanted to take a nap and that’s okay, she still sleeps a lot. She told the therapist to take off her shoes and ankle braces. The therapist told her to take them off herself because she can do it. Callie refused. The therapist refused. Callie slept with them on. She tries to get away with things like that all the time. We don’t give in. She is not gracious at all when she has to do things for herself. She demanded last week that someone iron her clothes. We showed her where the iron and ironing board were. She wears wrinkled clothing.

  “When you called and told her about her friend having a baby, she was genuinely excited. Then she went into a tailspin and was out of it, totally, for four days. I don’t mind telling you I was about to call in all the specialists that treated her. I tried to talk to her about it, but she said she had nothing to say. As late as last night she was looking forward to joining you and your friends for Thanksgiving. It will be her first real outing without any of us there to watch over her. Her sleep patterns have changed, too, just around the time your friend had her baby. She has terrible nightmares. She tosses and turns. This past week she’s been accusing all of us, myself included, of spying on her.”

  “Can she handle some news she isn’t going to like? Before you decide, let me tell you the story, and then I’d like your advice.”

  The doctor listened, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as Bode talked. When he was finished speaking, the doctor leaned back in his chair and made a steeple of his fingers. “Last week I asked Callie what she was going to do when she left here at the end of December. She said she was going to find herself another Pearl and live like a lady on Mr. Archer’s insurance money. She said she was probably going to marry you because you’d always loved her. I say you should tell her. I’ll make sure I’m around the corner in case she goes into one of her little spells. It’s up to you, Mr. Jessup.”

  “Is she really well enough to leave in December?”

  “She was well enough to leave at the beginning of the month, but she didn’t want to go. I thought there was something symbolic for her about Christmas, and that’s why I agreed to extend her time. What help she’s getting now is what any good qualified therapist can do for her on an outpatient basis.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Bode said quietly.

  “Your friend Hatch appears to be right. You need to open your eyes, Mr. Jessup. You also need to listen carefully. This is just my opinion, but I don’t think Callie is the person you think she is. My colleagues and I have a meeting once a week to discuss Callie, and they all concur with my findings. Miss Parker is well enough to leave here.”

  “What happens if a patient refuses to leave?”

  “She’s forced to comply. We have patients who desperately need rehabilitation. We’d simply move her to a mental ward and go from there, after we explain the situation. Some sort of plan will have to be made, someplace for her to go to, of course. We never throw people out. I mean that literally.”

  Bode thanked the doctor, his head buzzing, and headed for the rehabilitation center to see Callie.

  Callie was glad to see him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him so hard he begged for mercy. Good upper-body strength, he thought. “I’m so glad to see you, Bode. I thought you were never going to get here. Then I thought maybe you were angry with me for some reason, but then I realized just how silly that was. You’re never really angry with me. Listen Bode, I’ve had so much time to think since I’ve been here and I know we’ve never spoken about this and I think it’s time. I know you love me and have always adored me. I called off my wedding because of you and Pearl. When I leave here at the end of the year I’d like us to . . . you know . . . get married.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you could have left already?” Bode said, ignoring her words.

  “I didn’t want to leave.”

  “Do you have any idea how much it costs to stay here? Don’t you realize there are other patients who need help? You could get the same help you’re getting here, at home. It wasn’t fair of you, Callie.”

  “Oh pooh, the insurance company pays for it. I wasn’t ready to leave. Doctors don’t know everything, Bode.”

  “They knew enough to get you to this point in time with their help. Money doesn’t grow on tre
es, Callie. You just have no idea, have you?” Bode said wearily.

  “I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s going to be wonderful this year, isn’t it? Will you take me home when it’s time for me to leave? Did you get someone to clean the house and take care of me?”

  “Callie, sit down. I have to talk to you.” Callie sat down obediently. “Now, I want you to listen very carefully. There are a lot of things I have to tell you that you aren’t going to like, but I spoke with your doctor, and he said you were mentally and physically able to be told.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Bode, do we have to go through all this? It’s all right if you’re too busy to fly up here to take me back. I can ask Sela or Brie to do it. They’ll find someone to take care of me. I do insist you find someone to clean the house, though.”

  “Callie, the house is gone. I gave it to Arquette and Coletta.”

  “That isn’t funny, Bode. You can’t give my house away. I deeded it to Wyn. He said he gave it back.”

  “It’s not your house, it’s mine. I gave it away. Clemson Parker was my father. My mother lived in Summerville. I was illegitimate and my mother died when I was born. Her mammy gave me to an African-American family to raise and then when they couldn’t take care of me anymore, they gave me to the preacher. That’s when Mr. Parker found me and brought me to Pearl. I’m not African-American, Callie—not that it makes one bit of difference. My real name is Michael Clemson Harrold Parker. It says so on my birth certificate. I also inherit on my fortieth birthday—the Harrold holdings, whatever they might be.”

  “I don’t believe you! You gave away my house? Well, you just go and take it back! It’s mine—I grew up there. I was born there! Do you hear, Bode? You get it back!” Callie screeched.

  “You weren’t born there. Mama Pearl bought you from Mr. and Mrs. Davis for fifty dollars. They sold you. That doesn’t make them bad people. They had too many mouths to feed, and they knew you’d have a good life at Parker Manor. You have parents, Callie, and lots of brothers and sisters. There’s no easy way to say this except to just say it. Your mother is African-American, your father is Caucasian, you have brothers and sisters. The color issue isn’t what’s important. What’s important is you have parents who love you. They watched you grow up. They saw you all the time Pearl took you to church. When you were in the coma, they visited you every Sunday. They always brought fresh flowers, and they prayed for you.”

  “Those awful people who always tried to touch me? That man was a plumber.” She made the word sound obscene.

  “They’re good, kind, nice people, Callie, and they love you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true. You know I never lied to you. I’m not lying now either. You have to accept it.”

  “I don’t have to do any such thing. I’m an attorney! You get my house back, or I’ll sue you! Pearl must be turning over in her grave at the way you’re treating me. Now you’ve ruined everything.”

  “How can the truth ruin something? I’m showing you that you have a family, Callie. That’s the most important thing in the world.”

  “I don’t want that family. I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. I thought you loved me. Now you hate me. I never did anything to you,” Callie cried.

  “Yes, you did. Time and again you broke Mama Pearl’s heart and when you hurt her you hurt me. She loved you, and she felt guilty that she’d bought you for Mrs. Parker. But, in the end, she couldn’t go to meet Lazarus without telling the truth. Sela knows and so does Brie.”

  “You told everyone!” Callie shrilled.

  “Everyone already knew. The Judge knew, so that means all the old people in town knew. They kept the secret, but it isn’t a secret anymore. You have to come to terms with it.”

  “Oh no, I don’t. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Well, I’m not going to share Thanksgiving with people I thought were my friends. Christmas either. I’m going to hire the finest attorney in the world and get my house back from you.”

  “You can’t, Callie. There are too many people who know. All that insurance money you think you’re going to get will go to pay for something you can never have. You’ve been through a lot, Callie, and we were there for you. We’re here for you now if you need us, until you can decide what it is you want to do with your life.”

  “I knew,” Callie said spitefully.

  “Knew what?”

  “All about you. I looked in Pearl’s bag one day and saw your birth certificate. I was going to tear it up, but I was afraid Pearl would fan my bottom. I knew about the Davises, too. I heard Pearl talking to her preacher. I was hiding behind the tree. She knew I knew, too, even though I never said anything to her. She felt so guilty at what she did . . . I knew all the time.”

  “When?”

  “When I was about eight. That was the first time I saw the birth certificate. Then I went through her bag again when I was older, and I really understood.”

  “And you never said anything?”

  “Why should I? I liked everything the way it was. If I’d said something, things would have changed. When I woke up and y’all heard me talking about the secret and the baby, I was talking about Pearl’s secret and I was the baby. You should leave, Bode. I don’t want to marry you after all.”

  “Callie . . .”

  “Go, Bode. Haven’t you hurt me enough? I’m glad Pearl isn’t here to see the way you’re treating me. She’d never forgive you, Bode, never in a million years.”

  “Mama Pearl told, Callie. It’s you she wouldn’t forgiven. It was an awful secret for her to keep, but in the end she made it come right. I’m leaving you some money. You can use it for a down payment on a house; or, if you’re frugal, you can buy a house with it. I’m sorry things worked out like this, I really am.”

  “No, you’re not. You, Sela, and Brie are nothing but white trash. Why Pearl made me play with you is something I’ll never understand. I don’t want to understand either.”

  “It would be nice if you went back to Summerville to visit Pearl’s grave. I had an angel put on top of her stone and Lazarus’s. It would be nice for you to do that.”

  “Don’t hold your breath waiting for me to do it, Bode.”

  “Good-bye, Callie.” Bode laid the envelope on the table by the door. He went out, his stomach churning. Who was that person he’d just talked to for over an hour?

  Callie paced the room wringing her hands, moaning softly to herself. He said everyone knew. Everyone. That wasn’t true. Everyone didn’t know. She picked up the phone and dialed from memory. When the answering machine clicked on, she began speaking rapidly. “Wyn, this is Callie. I’d like it a lot if you’d come to New York and take me back to South Carolina. The doctors say I can leave anytime I want to. I thought it would be nice to share Thanksgiving with you. I’m not angry with you for what happened; it was an accident. I’m not going to change my mind about the lawsuit, though. I also wanted to tell you I just had a case of prewedding jitters—that was why I was going to call it off. I need you, Wyn. Swear to me you’ll take care of me, that nothing will ever come between us. I’ll never mention that you were in jail. Never ever. I’ll count the hours until you get here. Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you—I was going to marry you. Bring me a present, Wyn, something special. Something pretty. Bye, darling.”

  Callie lay down on the bed. It was time for her afternoon nap. When she woke up she’d forget all the awful things Bode had said. She’d never think about them again.

  21

  Bode leaped off the chair the moment he heard Little Hatch. Thank God. One more minute of his own company and he would be a basket case. He ran to the door. The baby’s wails were music to his ears. Sela gladly handed him over while Hatch dragged in two suitcases. “He’s got a poopy diaper.” Bode handed him back. Sela grimaced as she dropped to her knees and withdrew, to Bode’s amazement, all k
inds of paraphernalia.

  “He didn’t let out a sound during the whole trip. Guess that means he’s going to be a good traveler. Want to hold him now?”

  “Aaah,” Bode murmured as he brought the downy little head against his cheek. “He smells so sweet.”

  “This place is depressing,” Hatch complained, looking around. “I never would have thought this was Jake’s style. Bet he inherited it like this. He’s a wide-open man, likes skylights, green plants and half-walls. This place will have me nuts in two days. How about a beer, Bode?”

  “In the kitchen, down the hall, last room on the right. Fetch me one, too.”

  “I’ll have a Diet Pepsi,” Sela said.

  “I have everything set up in the dining room for Little Hatch. It gave me something to do.”

  “Here you go, Uncle Bode, you can feed the little tyke,” Hatch said, holding out a baby bottle. “I’ll drink your beer. The kid comes first.”

  Bode watched in amazement as the baby gobbled the contents of the bottle, burped loudly, and immediately dropped off to sleep. Sela took him, crooning softly.

  “She was so upset when she couldn’t nurse him herself. Not enough milk. He was always fussing. Actually, he was starving. Soon as we put him on the bottle the kid turned into an angel,” Hatch whispered. “She thinks it makes her less of a mother.”

  “Women are like that,” Bode said because he didn’t know what else to say. He snatched his beer just as Hatch reached for it.

  “Did Brie call?” Sela asked as she popped her diet drink. “Is the turkey thawing?”