Bart would face some of the same issues with Victoria’s mother and father. Her mother especially, she thought, was a very strong personality. She was that famous Sagittarius who would say exactly what she felt or believed. Sagittarius personalities were not good politicians.
Now, added to all this, was what she knew about Bart’s father and what he knew she knew. Apparently, Bart had chosen to see no evil and hear no evil. She would follow his lead, of course, and pretend she saw nothing out of the ordinary that night. However, she anticipated his father searching her face for signs of disapproval or disdain at dinner. Just for tonight, she thought, I will try not to be my mother’s daughter.
Bart arrived a little earlier than usual to take her out, knowing he would have to spend a little time with her parents. They greeted him warmly. Her mother was even funnier than she had been the first time.
‘Don’t think you’re getting a pass on college credit by marrying my daughter,’ she told him.
‘I expect she’ll have me reading more,’ he said. ‘I’ve already improved my vocabulary,’ he added. ‘But she knows the importance of a carburetor now.’
‘Don’t believe him,’ Victoria said. ‘I’ve never looked under a car hood.’
He took her hand. Her parents could see the deepening affection between them and exchanged glances.
When her father mentioned that Victoria had told him about the new dealership, Bart went into it in great detail, describing his plans to crack the market for foreign cars, the publicity ideas he was conjuring and then the plans for the business management – something he thought her father, being a business manager, would appreciate. They were off and running with a conversation that left both Victoria and her mother only observers.
‘It all sounds quite sound and excitin’,’ her father told him. ‘You’ve prepared yourself well for the move, Bart. I wish you all the best.’
Bart was beaming. She had the sense that he was getting more support from her father than he usually received from his own.
They were flying on a magic carpet when they left for Dante’s.
‘Your parents are great,’ he said. ‘I wish my father had more of your father’s Virginia ham in him.’
‘Oh, you should see how they go at each other over the way he pronounces words and some of his Southern expressions. But she was charmed. You were right to compare my father to Randolph Scott. She used to call him her Randolph Scott. She never told me. He did in front of her one day and you should have seen her blush.’
‘That I would like to see. My mother doesn’t blush; she burns.’
‘Oh, Bart, surely you’re exaggerating,’ she said, hoping.
‘Let me prepare you for my mother,’ he began. ‘She’s capable of asking embarrassing questions. I’ll play referee, but if she gets out of hand, don’t hesitate to let her know. She’s actually a pussy cat at heart, but, like most cats, she’ll lord it over you until you show your own claws.’
She sat back.
Maybe she wouldn’t get through this unscathed after all. Maybe this whole thing was really impossible. Perhaps she should have gone off to a graduate school in another state and met a different young man whose parents didn’t know she was a rape victim who had returned to the community where the perpetrators could still be living.
What really had brought her back?
What secret was she yet to discover?
By the time they arrived at the restaurant, it seemed as if everyone there knew why they were having dinner. Bart suspected his father had let them know. He wanted extra-special treatment. Mrs Dante practically leaped at her engagement ring.
‘What’s this I see? How beautiful. Special night tonight. Thank you for spending it with us.’
His parents were already there, waiting. His father rose as they approached the booth.
‘Hi, Victoria,’ he said, reaching for her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek as if they were already father-in-law and daughter-in-law.
Bart’s mother remained seated, looking up at them. She sat stiffly, her eyes lit with defiance. It was as if she had an invisible electric fence around her. Bart moved quickly to kiss her and then made what sounded like a formal, even awkward introduction.
‘Mother, this is Victoria Myers.’
‘I think I know she’s Victoria Myers,’ his mother said. She looked at her husband. It was clear that they had discussed and decided exactly how they would behave. ‘Please join us. I imagine there’s a great deal to discuss.’
‘Thank you,’ Victoria said. She and Bart would sit opposite his parents, she directly opposite Florence Stonefield. They had been here a while. Both had martinis.
‘I was thinking we’d have a bottle of champagne,’ his father said. Something he read in Victoria’s face told him he had nothing to fear concerning his indiscretion.
‘Great,’ Bart said. ‘Thanks.’
‘I’m not going to drink this martini and then a glass of champagne,’ his mother said.
‘Oh, we’ll handle the bottle of champagne, I’m sure. Won’t we, Victoria?’
‘We’ll make an effort,’ she said and he laughed. Bart smiled, surprised at how cool she was being.
John Stonefield ordered the champagne and sat back. ‘So, we’re all ears,’ he said.
‘What do you think of the ring I chose, Mother?’ he asked.
‘I think I already told you. It’s very nice, Bart.’
Victoria looked at him. So he had told her. She must have had a reaction, a reaction he obviously didn’t want to describe.
‘I suppose Bart’s told you about our plans for our dealerships,’ John said. The champagne was brought to the table and the waiter and the busboy set up the glasses quickly.
‘None for me,’ Bart’s mother said. She pushed the glass away.
The busboy reached out and took it back as if he was picking up something in the ocean and feared a shark might bite off his hand.
‘He did,’ Victoria said. ‘It sounds very exciting.’
‘First really big foreign car dealership in the county,’ John declared. ‘It’s like landing at Normandy.’
‘There are a few thousand American soldiers who might be upset with that analogy,’ Florence Stonefield quipped.
‘We’re not going to actually use that, Mom,’ Bart said. ‘It’s just a figure of speech.’
‘Never mind,’ John said. He lifted his glass of champagne. ‘To the newest Stonefield couple in America.’
The three clinked glasses. Victoria sipped her champagne and watched Florence take what looked more like a gulp of her martini.
‘Well, good news,’ Bart began as the waiter brought them the menus. ‘Victoria’s parents have already begun looking at wedding venues and have found a great one for our purposes. The Olympic.’
His mother sat back, her mouth falling open like the mouth of an actress in an over-the-top silent movie.
‘How long have they known about this?’ she asked.
‘What? A day or so?’ Bart asked Victoria.
‘About,’ she said. ‘My mother originated the saying, A rolling stone gathers no moss,’ she said with pride.
‘That’s for sure,’ John said. He continued to look delighted. Victoria couldn’t help liking him, despite what she knew. Another voice inside her was defending him, especially now that she was facing his wife. She almost justified adultery.
‘The Olympic. Why? We could get the Concord or Grossingers for sure,’ Florence Stonefield said when she regained her composure. ‘We should at least discuss it. That’s the way things are done.’
‘We want it to be as soon as possible and they’re available immediately after Labor Day,’ Bart said.
‘After Labor Day? You’re talking about less than six weeks – if that. People are supposed to be given decent notice. Some will come from out of the state.’
‘We don’t want it to be that big an affair,’ Bart said. ‘Smaller is cozier.’
‘How small?’ his mother
demanded. Both Bart and Victoria nearly smiled. First, she was obviously against the marriage and now she was worried it wouldn’t be big enough to fit the image she had of the Stonefields.
‘We thought maybe two, two fifty,’ Bart replied.
‘Each?’
‘No, Mom, total.’
‘Ridiculous. We’ll insult so many people.’
‘We can cull out those who aren’t true friends and important enough relations,’ he said softly.
‘The bride’s parents handle the wedding,’ John Stonefield added, happy most of the work would be done by someone else. ‘We can have a helluva rehearsal dinner. I’ll take over this entire restaurant. There’s no better place for it.’
Florence Stonefield’s eyes electrified as a thought shot through her with lightning speed. She fixed her gaze on Victoria like a pin spotlight. ‘Are you pregnant?’ she demanded.
The ceiling could have fallen on the table with less of a wham.
The waiter approached them and Florence turned on him. ‘Not yet,’ she snapped and looked at Bart and Victoria.
Bart nudged her with his knee.
Victoria took a deep breath and leaned forward. ‘Only with my love for your son, Mrs Stonefield,’ she replied.
There was a pause, a true pregnant moment, and then John Stonefield roared. He signaled for the waiter.
And the dinner officially began.
Just like most young women her age, Victoria had done her homework when it came to weddings. From time to time, when she was fantasizing about falling in love and marrying, she had perused magazines and read articles. She had never had a detailed discussion about it with her mother, but occasionally she had brought up one wedding concept or another to hear her opinion. She would never confess it, but soon after she and Bart had begun their second week of dating, she even began looking at wedding dresses. That was why she had been somewhat disappointed with his initial idea of eloping. He had promised a ceremony later, but her parents’ reactions gave her the chance to revisit her dreams.
Despite her mood, Florence Stonefield was impressed with Victoria’s knowledge about flowers, wedding music, food and even invitations. She kept shaking her head, now wondering just how long this romance had gone on. Had her son been seeing Victoria Myers secretly for months and months?
Reluctantly, she had to admit that Victoria sounded quite organized. She didn’t hide her surprise and before their dinner ended – after Gino Dante presented them with a special chocolate swirl angel food cake, glazed with chocolate syrup – she got in her sharp dig, a comment through a question that left no doubt as to her reason for being unhappy about her son’s choice.
‘Despite how quickly this is all happening and the preparations you have done,’ she began, ‘a wedding still imposes great pressure and tension on any prospective bride. Is your therapy complete? Are you in a good place for this big life-changing decision? I’m asking only out of concern for you, dear,’ she added with as plastic a smile as Victoria had ever seen.
Both Bart and his father looked as if they were holding their breath.
‘Bart has made that question unnecessary,’ Victoria said. She looked at his father, too. ‘None of us underestimates the restorative power of sincere love.’
Florence Stonefield sank with defeat and looked down as John called for the bill. He and Florence remained behind after the obligatory thank yous and quick kisses good night. Victoria told Bart’s mother that her mother would be calling her the next day.
Bart took her hand. They made their way out of the restaurant, navigating good luck wishes from other local people who had inquired about the elaborate dinner and learned about the occasion.
They burst out of the restaurant and both paused to take a breath.
‘My God,’ Bart said. ‘You were fantastic.’
‘I was, wasn’t I?’ she replied, laughing, and then stepped forward with him toward his car, feeling more confident about her future than she had ever thought possible.
She was glad she had come home.
SIXTEEN
Detective Rob Luden sat back in his desk chair and for a few moments felt sorry for himself. He had studied for a criminal justice degree at the Bronx Community College in New York City and was one of the best students they had processed to date. His prospects and the expectations of him were very high. The more he was complimented, the bigger his ambitions grew. He would put in the years he needed to build his resume and maybe he would move on to join the FBI. That was his original plan.
His first job was a very prestigious one. He worked in Yonkers, New York, and almost from day one found himself working high-profile murders, as well as the usual embezzlements and armed robberies. Despite coming to the job with great recommendations and impressive academic achievements, however, he had to overcome a physical obstacle. Rob was the kind of man who would be burdened by his youthful appearance most of his life. He was in a profession that required an air of authority that came from a look of maturity.
Most everyone had a movie and television image of the typical detective. He was usually dark-haired with an unkempt appearance, a man who drank and smoked too much. He was good-looking in a dangerous way, but also hard, worn and radiating cynicism. But Rob Luden’s reddish blond hair, resembling a soldier’s cut, his soft, somewhat chubby cheeks with freckles that looked tossed on to them, and his greenish-blue eyes made him look more like a character out of an Archie Andrews comic book than a Sam Spade movie.
He felt he had to work harder, become an overachiever almost from the get-go. Sometimes he even looked for and welcomed a physical confrontation just so he could prove himself on the job. He had had extensive self-defense training and kept his body tuned with vigorous exercise. He was doing fairly well, despite being called The Kid, and regardless of the fact that even the uniformed patrolman knew him as that. There were plenty of in-jokes like ‘Does he faint at the sight of blood?’ or ‘When did he get the braces off his teeth?’ Rather than get angry, he battled back with insights and achievements that wiped the teasing smiles off faces.
Then he fell in love. He was so smitten by this ravishing redhead who had just started teaching elementary school that he found himself often cutting corners to spend more time with her and be able to make every date. He was actually afraid that if he did miss dates or frustrate her, she would soon find another beau, no matter how much she seemed to be falling in love with him as well. They had an intense two months before he woke up one morning determined to pop the question. In the back of his mind was the fear that, no matter how passionate their romance was going, she would in the end hesitate out of fear of being married to a policeman.
As he was wisely told by his father, ‘A policeman, perhaps a homicide detective more so’ – which was what he was hoping to become – ‘is truly like a soldier always on the battlefield. There’s never a period of peace, never a truce, Rob. You’re always at war. Your mother hates to even think it, but in few other professions does someone have the realistic possibility of not coming home at night ever again.’
It would take a special woman to want to marry into that, but Becky Clancy was that woman. To find someone so beautiful and willing was truly like hitting the jackpot when it came to a relationship and a life. Why hesitate? Fortunately, she felt the same way. They married and, within the first year, had a child, a daughter they named Megan.
His career and his ambitions took an unexpected backseat. Family concerns raged to the top of his priorities. His wife’s family lived in upstate New York. They were a close family. Becky was especially close to her mother since her brother had joined the navy and then married a girl in the Philippines where he now lived. When his father-in-law suffered a stroke and died, Rob and his wife and Megan, now three years old, moved to the upstate hamlet of Woodbourne to live in the big home with her, and he was able to get the job at the Fallsburgh police department, a small town police force that had just taken on the task of developing a respectable detective unit. He
was given carte blanche to organize it, which was the most attractive aspect to a job that threatened to bore him to death.
Almost every serious capital crime usually brought in the county and state units which more often than not ended up taking command. It wasn’t unusual to feel like the unwanted child in this police family – someone tolerated, but hardly respected, despite his ‘big city’ early experiences. Detective work in the more rural upstate world was clearly different. The urban mentality wasn’t a good fit. Adjustments had to be made. There wasn’t the surrounding professionalism he was used to having. Everyone moved more slowly and found it harder to accept the evil that lived in so many hearts.
The other problem he was finding was internal. The former police chief, Hal Donald, retired the year he began working there, and he wasn’t terribly fond of the new chief who was a political appointee with hardly any experience necessary for the job, in Rob’s opinion. Chief Skyler was the brother-in-law of the county’s district attorney. County government was incestuous, Rob thought. Skyler was the epitome of the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ philosophy. He would use that expression for avoiding requests or he would simply ask, rhetorically, ‘Why rock the boat?’ Making innovations and bringing in some of the techniques and procedures Rob had mastered and used in Yonkers was sometimes like introducing electricity to Aborigines. His father always advised, ‘Swim with the current, not against it, and you’ll get farther in life.’
The Incident Page 19