by Roslyn Woods
“It’s settled,” Maddie answered for her. “She is.”
Chapter 51
Wednesday, August 12, 4 p.m.—Gus
A few hours later, back at the Kerr residence, Madison was buttering slices of French bread and putting them on a cookie sheet while her father watched her.
“What’s wrong, Dad? What did I do?” she asked, frowning at him.
“Nothing. I’m just noticing how you’re growing up.”
“Does that mean you’ve realized I’m not a little girl anymore?”
“No. It means I realize you won’t be one forever.”
“And do you realize I’m not going to be able to take care of you forever?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I wasn’t aware that you were taking care of me.”
“Well, I have been, and it’s not an easy job for a daughter. I really think you need to—branch out. Make friends.”
“I have lots of friends!”
“No, you don’t. Other gardeners don’t count, and people at the college don’t count. Anyway, I won’t be able to stand all the scrutiny much longer. You need other people in your life to give you some perspective.”
“What?” Gus asked again. “What scrutiny?”
“You know. You’re always telling me I’m too young for this or that, what I should eat, brush my teeth, do my homework! Blah, blah, blah. I’m getting too old for it. Besides, you’ve been alone long enough. I admit I needed you to do the single thing for a while, but I’m over it.”
“Why are you coming up with this now?” he asked, astonished.
“Because.”
“Because, why?” he asked.
“Because I met Tavy, I guess.”
“What does Tavy have to do with it?”
“I just think she’s great, and I think she might go out with you.”
“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “She’s just a friend, and she has a boyfriend.”
“I don’t think so.”
“She told me she does,” he said.
“Oh. Hmm. Well, that just doesn’t make sense.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because, if she does, why isn’t he here with her?”
“Maybe he’s working.”
“And he doesn’t come see her on weekends or something? And she never mentions him?” Maddie argued.
“She mentioned him to me. Maybe he’s a teacher. It’s expensive flying from Portland to Austin.”
“You’re a teacher, Dad. If she was your girlfriend you’d find a way.”
“I think college teachers make more money.”
“Dad, she’s not in love with him.”
“What do you know about being in love?”
“I know enough to know she doesn’t love him, whoever he is.”
“How so?”
“I just know.”
“Honey, don’t start hoping for something like this.”
“I’m not. I’m just telling you it would be okay.”
“You’re giving me permission to do something that would never happen—even if I wanted it to.”
“You do want it to.”
“No.”
“You like her.”
“Sure, as a friend. But she’s just a very young woman. She wouldn’t be interested in an old guy like me.”
“I know, it seems impossible, but you’d be amazed at how limited the field is these days!”
“What?”
“I’ve heard a good man isn’t that easy to come by.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“I heard Brenda’s mom talking about it. Her sister is single and thirty-five. She’s dating an old geezer like you! He’s even older! Like fifty-four!”
“That’s probably not even true.”
“Yes! And she’s thrilled to have him!”
“He must be rich.”
“I don’t know about that part.”
“Honey, I’m not kidding. It’s never going to happen. Tavy and I are just friends. She doesn’t feel that way about me.”
“Have you asked?”
“I don’t have to. And what makes you think I want to ask?”
“If you don’t you should. She’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s nice.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Maddie. When two people—”
“Oh my God! If you start telling me the facts of life—news flash! I’ve already heard!”
“I mean it Maddie. It’s never going to happen. Drop the idea. Now!”
“Okay. Whatever. Thirty-nine is pretty old, by the way.”
“I’m thirteen years her senior!”
“See! You’ve already counted it up! I did, too. Besides, she turns forty before you turn fifty-three. So it’s more like twelve. It’s perfect.”
“It’s not perfect! Don’t set yourself up for a disappointment like this! You’ve got a perfectly good dad and—”
“Not a perfectly good mother,” Maddie interrupted, shaking her head. “I’m in her way unless she wants to use me to make you mad. Tavy likes me. And it has nothing to do with you. It’s just the way she is. She likes me for myself. Like Ed. He didn’t like me cuz I was your kid. He liked me like she likes me. I can tell.”
“You could move in with me and Blue. You don’t have to live with your mother if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to move in with you, but mom says a judge has to—”
“You’ve talked to your mom about this?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?” he repeated.
Madison bit her lip as if she knew she’d said too much.
“I want to know, Maddie,” her father insisted. “When?”
“The other night after she yelled at Tavy.”
“She yelled at Tavy?”
“Well, she didn’t yell exactly, but I could hear her saying stuff. It made me mad. Tavy was just being nice, and Mom was saying stuff that was just weird.”
“What kind of stuff? And how did you happen to overhear?”
“She told me to go to the car, but I rolled the window down and I could hear her.”
“This is awful. What did she say?”
“Just that you aren’t with some new woman because you still love her. Shit like that.”
“Your mom told Tavy I still love her?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I don’t think Tavy believed her. Who would? Mom just makes herself look mean, which is the right thing for someone to think, but it’s not the impression she really wants to give. I mean, she wants people to think she’s nice right when she’s being a complete b—witch. So who could love her? I don’t even think Manfred loves her. He’s just scared of her. By the way, their days are numbered. I’m telling you, those two are on the fritz.”
“And what did Tavy do?”
“When Mom was talking garbage? I think she just listened for a while and told her she didn’t have anything to worry about.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, I do want to live here with you and Blue, but you’re going to have to give me some personal space.”
“How am I not giving you personal space?” his brows drawn together.
“You want to know who my friends are, what I’m doing all the time—It’s tyranny!”
“It’s not tyranny! And where did you get all these words like scrutiny and perspective and tyranny? And it’s not going to change.”
“You think I’m a baby, but I’m almost thirteen!”
“You just turned twelve!”
“Five months ago!”
“Really, Maddie!”
“Think about it this way. I need a good role model. Tavy’s a really good role model. Mom is a terrible role model. She’s mean. She drinks too much. She’s way too materialistic.”
Gus swallowed.
“Don’t look like that, Dad! Buck up! Look how great I’m turning out!”
<
br /> “You are. You just need to clean up your language and be a little more respectful to your old dad.”
“I’ll probably get better with some good influence.”
Chapter 52
Wednesday, August 12, 6 p.m.—Shell
When Shell returned from her self-defense class, she was surprised by the list Dean had for her.
“Only twelve students?” she asked, frowning.
“It’s not everyone who was there that year,” Dean answered. “It’s everyone who was in the same specialty. All these people were in visual arts, but there were other lists like architecture and sculptural design. The school was much smaller in those days. I just thought you’d find his own group the most interesting, and here are the lists I printed of the rest of the student body,” he added, handing her a small stack of papers.
“Wow! How did you do it? I’ve been trying for days—”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
“Ah!” she said, smiling. “I wouldn’t understand it anyway.”
“You would, but it’s a little bit more detailed than you might want to be.”
Shell scanned the shortest list. “I can’t believe it!” she said. “Edwin Bishop isn’t the only name I recognize!”
“Exactly. I couldn’t believe it when I saw that name.”
There, number nine from the top of the list, was the name Armen Hanoian. Shell shook her head in astonishment. “Oh my God!” she said. “There’s another name I recognize, too, Dean. It’s Harris Melburn! Look! Number six is Harris Robert Melburn!”
“I don’t follow.”
“He’s an art dealer in Dallas, but Dr. Ellis told me he had some dealings with Edwin Baird back in the eighties!”
“So they all went to art school together.”
“And they were all painters. Dr. Ellis said he had always envied Edwin Baird and that he always thought Armen was jealous of him, too.”
“It would be hard, I imagine, to go to school with someone and paint alongside them if they were a lot more talented.”
“Which might be why Armen ended up becoming a glass artist.”
“But they remained friends?”
“According to Dr. Ellis, yes.”
“And Harris Melburn?”
“He was already an art dealer when Edwin joined the Pecan Street Gallery. I guess he sold some things for him up in Dallas. He might have answers about Edwin and his decision to use a pseudonym and also his decision to drop out. I need to call him.”
“When? You remember we’re going to Margie’s in a few minutes?”
“I remember. I’ll save my call to Harris Melburn for tomorrow, but I need to call Tavy before we go to dinner.”
“Listen,” Shell said, when her new friend had answered the phone, “Dean got me a list of the people who were in your dad’s class at art school. I’d like to go over it with you.”
“That would great. I’ve got something I want to talk with you about, too.”
“Really? Did something new crop up?”
“Not exactly. I’m trying to figure something out, though, and I think I could use your help.”
“Okay,” Shell said.
“When do you think we could visit? I’d rather it be in person if possible.”
“How about tomorrow afternoon?” Shell suggested. “I’m working for a few hours in the morning, interviewing some intern possibilities for the gallery, but I’ll have the evening off, and Dean’s going to be out of town. We could have dinner if you’re free.”
“That’s a great idea!” Tavy exclaimed. Then she added, “You know, I could fix us dinner and you could just stay over if you like. When is Dean coming back?”
“Saturday evening.”
“You could stay both nights if you’d rather not be alone. And you could bring the dogs.”
“That’s really sweet, Tavy. Are you sure?”
“It would make me feel better, too. And we can talk about a few things I’d like to get your take on.”
Chapter 53
Wednesday, August 12, 6 p.m.—Gus
Gus started up the charcoals while the meat marinated in the fridge and Maddie ran the vacuum cleaner. He was proud of her. She was trying to do her part around the house.
He showered and shaved, wondering—as he looked in the mirror—if he looked old. Yes, he was definitely graying at the temples, and he had never cared before now. Did it matter? Of course it mattered. He was way too old to be interested in Octavia Bishop, and anyway, even if there was no boyfriend in Portland—which there was—she’d never be able to consider having a relationship with the man who had mixed the very drinks that killed her father.
Don’t even think about it, he told himself as a wave a shame and regret came over him. He had failed as Ed’s friend, and now he was falling in love with his daughter—a woman he could never have.
Poor Maddie. She wanted a real mother, and she had latched onto Tavy because she was lovely and kind. It made him sick to realize he’d chosen to have his child with Rhoda.
“You look pretty good, Dad,” Maddie said when he reentered the kitchen in a beige polo shirt and jeans. “But I think you should wear the cargo shorts and the light blue shirt I got you for your birthday. You want to look casual. Like you’re just grilling tonight like you would on any other evening. You don’t want to look like you’re making an effort.”
“I look like I’m making an effort in jeans?”
“Sandals and shorts look more casual than jeans, and the blue shirt brings out your eyes—”
“My eyes?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“—because Tavy will be used to men who know how to dress and be very cool and laid-back,” she continued. “You’re just going to have to do your best and take my advice.”
“No, Madison. I don’t need coaching on how to be relaxed when I’m grilling a meal—”
“At least wear the blue instead of the beige. Beige screams old man.”
“It does?” He certainly didn’t want to wear something that screamed old man.
“I’ll change to whatever you want me to wear if you’ll stop trying to make an impression on Tavy. I mean it, Maddie. Stop. There’s never going to be anything other than friendship between me and Ed’s daughter. Got it?”
“Okay. I’ll stop if you’ll change.”
He grimaced. “All right,” he said, giving in.
Tavy arrived at the back door an hour later in khaki capris, sandals, and a sleeveless pink top. Her hair had been twisted into a roll at the nape of her neck, a few loose strands haphazardly escaping around her face.
Maddie was right. She looked just right. As always.
She was laden with a salad of garden fresh tomatoes, green onions, and cucumbers. “Shall I put this in the fridge?” she asked Gus, while Blue wagged her tail happily, glad to be home.
“Sure,” he answered. “The salad looks delicious! I’m going to be ready to put the steaks on the grill in twenty minutes or so, so I can free up some space in the fridge right now.”
“Great,” Tavy said, following him through the little enclosed porch and into the kitchen.
“Hi, Tavy!” Maddie said as she washed her hands at the sink.
“Hi there. Anything I can do to help?” Tavy asked.
“Yeah. Can you cut up the melon? Dad bought some prosciutto and he just picked us some basil.”
“I’d be glad to,” Tavy answered, following Gus to the refrigerator and putting the salad in after he removed the container of marinating steaks.
“Would you like a glass of cabernet?” he asked as he deposited the plate on the counter.
“I would.”
“I’ll open the bottle and get out some glasses.”
Had she just smiled at him? No, she was just a very friendly person who lit up whatever room she entered.
Tavy sliced honeydew melon and added in prosciutto and basil to make a fruit salad while Maddie set the table. Gus took three stemmed glasses
from the cupboard and poured wine for himself and Tavy and cranberry juice for his daughter.
They were a half hour into dinner when Maddie piped up, “Ed would have loved this.”
Tavy looked at her from across the little round dinette, her eyes suddenly getting shiny, but she didn’t speak.
“Yes, he would,” Gus said softly. “I wish he were here.”
“Dad, did Tavy tell you she found one of his puzzles?” she asked, looking back at her father.
“No,” he answered. “One of the word puzzles?”
“Yeah.”
“Did the two of you work it out?”
“Not yet,” Tavy answered. “Madison believes I can figure it out on my own.”
Just then the girl’s phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket. “Oh sorry, folks. This is an important text. I have to make a phone call.”
“What?” her father said. “We’re having dinner!”
“I know, but I’m finished eating, and this is really important. Brenda and I have to choose our electives!”
“I thought you and Brenda were never going to speak again,” he answered, frowning.
“Well, we worked it out,” she said, glancing at Tavy, “Besides, I think most of the electives are already getting taken up and I might not get into the classes I want.”
“Well, dammit, Maddie,” Gus began, “why didn’t you—”
“Please, Dad? Can’t I just go call her?”
Tavy appeared to be avoiding the exchange entirely, looking out the window while Gus argued with his daughter.
“Okay. Come back and have dessert with us in a little while.”
“Thanks!” She stood and carried her plate into the kitchen. Then, over her shoulder she said, “Is it okay if Brenda comes over for ginger cookies and Ben and Jerry’s? Just for an hour or so?”
It was just like her. He’d given her an inch and now she was taking a mile.
“Uh—”
“Cuz she says she’s really nervous about school, you know? We have to declare like by Friday.”
Gus knew she was manipulating him. She was wanting her friend to come over, but she also wanted to create alone time for Tavy and himself, and what better way than to go into her room to visit with her friend? But could he turn her down?