Inheritance

by Judith Michael

  "Not your brothers?" Ben said softly. "You're not choosing your brothers?"

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  "I didn't mean ... oh, damn it, Ben, you know what I mean. I don't want a contest; I just want to skip this one job. We've done so many and we can do another one—somewhere—^I'll keep my promise; it's just that I don't. . ."

  "Want to rob the Salingers," Ben finished when her voice trailed off. "Why not?"

  "Because they trust us and they've been nice to us, and— ^

  *That's a stupid reason," Clay cut in, but Laura rushed on.

  "—and we know them. It's not like other times when we'd break into a place and never meet anyone or even know their names ... I mean, if I saw pictures on a desk or dresser, I'd wonder what they were like and how they'd feel when they came home and found their things missing, but I never knew them, and I do know Allison and Leni and Owen . . .'*

  "So we know them," said Clay. "So what? What have they ever done for us? We work our asses off to earn a few lousy bucks a week, and we're always working overtime— **

  "You wanted overtime," Laura flung at him, "so you could check the guards' schedules."

  Clay shrugged. Ben looked at her through narrowed eyes. 'They can afford to lose a few jewels; their insurance will pay for them anyway. So maybe the real problem is you're afraid they'll suspect something after you leave and not like you anymore. Right? But you'll be gone, so what's the difference? Anyway, why should you care whether they like you or not? You're better off if ftiey don't; they're a rotten bunch of crooks. They take care of themselves and fuck everybody else and wouldn't let anybody who's not a royal Salinger have even a little piece of what they've got—^"

  'That's a lie!" Laura cried, striking the table with her fist. 'They're not like that! They're just the opposite—they've been good to me, and Clay, too—they're going to let us live in one of their cottages, and Owen is loaning me money for college and— '*

  "What?" Clay shouted. "Live where?"

  "Wait a minute." Ben's face was frozen. "Keep your voice down. Clay. Felix Salinger offered to let you live in the compound and send you to college?"

  "Not really," Laura conceded. "Owen thought of the cottage, and everybody goes along with him, and he was the one who talked about college—^"

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  «(i

  *Felix won't agree," Ben said.

  "Why not?" Laura asked hotly. "I mean, he's not as friendly as the others—well, Asa isn't either, I guess—but if the others want to help us, why wouldn't Felix go along? Is there some reason he wouldn't?" She stared at him. "You know something about him that you're not telling!"

  Ben looked at his hands as they gripped his mug of beer; the knuckles were white. "Amazing," he murmured. 'The Salingers, of all people."

  "Why not the Salingers?" Laura demanded.

  "It's a wonderful chance for you," he said slowly, as if she had not spoken. "I couldn't have swung college for you, at least not this year. And you'd have a place to live for the whole summer, and save your money . . ." He stared at his hands, then shook his head heavily. "I can't do it, Laura; I can't give up this job. Maybe someday I'll tell you why, but right now you'll just have to trust me. You could stay widi them after I do it, but I think they'd find you out. Danm it, Laura, I'm the one who cares about you, not them, and I'm asking you to help me. I've been thinking about this job a long time, and I can't throw away the chance now that I'm so close."

  "How long? How long have you been thinking about it?"

  "Longer than you can imagine. Years. Why can't you just go along and not ask questions? I'd do the same for you. If you told me you had to do something and I had it in my power to help you, I'd do it, no questions asked."

  "I have to like myself," Laura said coldly. "I want to go to college and be respectable, and not sit widi my back to a restaurant because I'm afraid somebody will notice me."

  Ben winced. Clay scowled at Laura. "You never mentioned living with them or getting money for college."

  "You were too excited about robbing them. I wanted to see what Ben said."

  "You wanted to pull this out from under me." Clay's voice rose. "My whole plan. You wanted to talk Ben into killing it, and you didn't even tell me."

  **What would you have said if I did tell you?"

  **What Ben said. We have to do it."

  "So what difference does it make that I didn't tell you?"

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  "I had a right to know what you were going to do! We're in this together!"

  "You're in it alone! I told you, I don't want to do it!"

  "Stop squabbling," Ben ordered, "and keep your voices down. Laura, I'll do everything I can to help you, but I've got to do this, first. Can't you understand? It's like getting something off my chest. Once I've done it, I can concentrate on other things, like getting you to college."

  Slowly, Laura shook her head. "I don't want you to keep stealing to give me money for college. That's what you'd do, isn't it? You've always stolen and you like the excitement, so you wouldn't even try something else."

  "What, for instance?"

  "Like a better job, for instance! Aren't you ever going to think about that? Or about what happens to Clay?"

  "What about me?" Clay demanded.

  "He thinks you're wonderful," she said to Ben. "But what's so wonderful about a guy who spends his whole life being a waiter part of the time and breaking into places the other part? And feeling scared every time there's a policeman around? Why don't you quit all that and get a better job? You'd probably have to work harder; so big deal! Don't you give a shit— don't you care what happens to us? You think we like the way we live?"

  "I like it fine!" said Clay hoarsely. Everything was happening too fast; the conversation was getting out of hand. "It's fine; why don't you just shut up!"

  "I can't get a better job," Ben said to Laura. "I never went to college; I haven't any skills—^"

  "How do you know? You're the smartest person I ever met; how do you know what you could do if you tried? You could be an executive! Or something like that. But you won't even try! Well, the hell with it. I don't care what you do; I'm tadking about me, and / don't want to steal anymore! It's not exciting or fun like it used to be . . . and I'd go to jail if I got caught again—it would be a second offense—and I won't take the diance. I don't want to live on your stealing, either; that's ahnost as bad as doing it myself. And I don't want to rob the Salingers! I'm asking you, Ben, please, please, don't rob them. I like them; they make me feel nice, and I want to stay with them as long as I can."

  Judith Michael

  She saw the hurt and anger in Ben's eyes and she felt she was being torn apart. "Don't be unhappy, Ben, please, I love you and you've been wonderful to us, but I've got a chance to change things, to change me, and maybe I'll never have it again! Owen asked me to write to him and visit him when I'm in college—he's my friend!—and I don't want to risk losing him, losing all of them . . . / don't want them hurt!"

  They were silent, looking away from each other, and the talk and laughter behind them seemed louder and happier than before. The waiter brought coffee and Ben drank his black, hot and steaming. Laura, who had decided she should drink it because Allison did, poured in cream and sugar and then sipped it, telling herself it tasted good. Clay, watching Ben, drank his black, making faces as it scalded his tongue.

  "I'll think about it," Ben said at last.

  "No, Ben, tell us now," Laura pleaded. "Say you won't do it. Say you'll think up another job, and we'll come to New Yoiic and help you do it—we can come on a weekend and then come back—"

  "I didn't say I was staying!" Clay exclaimed.

  "I want you to stay with me. That way you'll finish high school and maybe think about college instead of—" She bit back her words.

  "Instead of being like me," Ben said flatly.

  "I want to be like Ben!" Clay stormed. "There's nothing wrong with that. You wanted it, too, once. And if you'd shut up abou
t Owen and his rich bitch family, we could get going on my plan and then get out of here and go back to New York where we belong!"

  Laura bit her lip. "I don't want to go back to New York; I want to move into the cottage. Ben, we'll visit you, we'll still be a family, and I'm sorry if you'll be lonely but I want this so much . . ." She took his hand. *'Beny please."

  He shoved back his chair, pulling his hand away. "I told you I'd think about it. That's the best I can do. It's more than I want to do." He stood and took out his wallet. "I'll drive you to Centerville, then I'm going back to New York. I'll call in a few days." His lips were tight. "Listen to me, Laura. I'm still your guardian; when I decide, you'll do what you're told."

  "Danm right," Clay muttered. He and Laura walked to the

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  car while Ben paid the waiter. "Ben wanted a reunion and a nice time, and you ruined it."

  "You don't care about Ben. You just don't want to give up your plan."

  "What's wrong with that? What good's a plan you can't do?"

  Ben joined them and they drove to Centerville in silence. All around them were cars filled with people on vacation; the sidewalks were kaleidoscopes of people all looking happy. Laura watched them and wanted to cry.

  She kept wanting to cry all week, waiting for Ben to call, but she couldn't cry in front of Rosa, and she refused to cry in front of Clay, so she held it in. It was easier because they were so busy; Felix and Leni had houseguests, which meant fifteen or more people at every meal, and Rosa had already begun preparations for the Sunday night dinner dance on the yacht. As the weekend approached, she grew more frenzied, her fingers a blur as they flew from mixers to mandolins, whisks to rolling pins, terrines to casseroles. Laura was mostly on her own, preparing breakfast and lunch for the large groups that seemed to materialize in the dining room or on the porch for another meal before she had even finished cleaning up from the last one. As she cooked, Rosa would appear beside her now and then with a sharp criticism or brief suggestion or, best of all, a touch on the arm and word of praise that made Laura feel she loved Rosa and all the world.

  But then she would see Rosa putting covered dishes in the two wall freezers, for the party on the yacht, and she would remember she could lose it all in a few days. She began to avoid everyone, talking to Rosa only about food, never anything personal; telhng Allison she couldn't take tennis or swimming lessons; telling Owen she couldn't work in his library that week: there was too much to do in the kitchen.

  Then, on Friday, two days before the party, Ben called. "I talked to Clay yesterday; he says you're not very friendly to him."

  "I'm busy and tired," Laura said shortly. "And he keeps telUng me I'm crazy to pass up a golden opportunity, and he won't listen to anything I say. I guess I don't feel very friendly."

  Judith Michael

  "Well, Fve been thinking about what you said." Ben let out a long breath. "We'U call it off, Laura."

  "Ben—!"

  "I still have to deal with Clay, but I can handle him. I guess what I can't handle is the chance that you'd hate me."

  "Oh, Ben, I love you—thank you—I love you. Are you coming here soon? We'll have another dinner, we'll have a good time, better than last week, I promise. When can you come? I can get off early; we could even spend a day together. We haven't done that in so long ..."

  "How about Saturday? I have to be in Boston that night; I could come to the Cape in the morning and we'd have all day. Don't you have Saturday off anyway?"

  "Oh. Yes, usually, but ..." She debated thinking up a lie to tell Rosa, then decided she couldn't. "Not tWs week. There's so much still to do for the party on the boat Sunday, and the Janssens are having a hundred people for dinner Saturday night; they're putting a tent on the lawn. Any other Saturday . . ."

  "We'll find a time." Laura heard the smile in his voice and thought how nice it was when Ben was happy and loving. "I'll call soon," he said cheerfully. "Maybe that busy family will let you go next Saturday."

  After they hung up, Laura repeated his words to herself, wondering how much disappointment and anger he might have been hiding. She didn't have to wonder about Clay: his frustration and fiiry burst out and then he stopped talking to her completely. And late that night he went out and didn't come home.

  Laura found him Saturday morning in the orchid greenhouse. "We still live together," she said angrily. "We have to get along. Clay, I was worried about you!" And I hated being alone; the garage underneath me creaked and our apartment creaked and I thought of how I'd never once been alone all night and I was scared to death. "Where did you spend the night?" she asked.

  "With a couple of guys passing through. They let me sleep in their car."

  "Which guys? Who?"

  "I didn't ask. We fooled around for a while and had dinner at that place in Bass River."

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  "Which place?"

  This time he k)oked sheepish. "I don't remember. I think I had a httle too much to drink."

  Laura gazed at him. "How much money did you lose?"

  "Lose?"

  " Tooling around.' When Ben says that, it means poker."

  "Shit, Laura, I don't do everything Ben—^"

  "How much did you lose?"

  He shrugged. "Not too much."

  "How much?"

  "A bill."

  "You lost a hundred dollars?"

  "You want me to lie?"

  He needed taking care of. She knew that. She admired Ben, but she wanted to protect Clay. "Well, it's done; we won't think about it. We can't get it back. But from now on things are going to be different around here; we're going to have a real home and a chance to be somebody, and I won't have you ruining it by getting drunk and gambling and sleeping in cars—^"

  "You can't make me stay!" Clay shouted. "I'm going back to New York!"

  "You're going to Uve with me!" Laura tried to sound stem and grown up but she was beginning to feel frightened. She needed Clay. Because as wonderful as the Salingers were, she didn't want to be all alone in the midst of their big family; she wanted somebody of her own to cling to. Then she saw the confusion in Clay's face. "How come you're still here? Ben isn't going to do the robbery, so why haven't you taken off for New York?"

  "I'm going to," Clay mumbled. "Soon as I get around to it."

  **When? What are you waiting for?"

  He shrugged. 'There's a lot of work to do for the party."

  "And you love the Salingers so much you want to do it all." When Clay was silent, she turned away. "Well, then, don't tell me. I don't care. You can leave any time; it doesn't matter to me."

  "I didn't want to run out on you," he said quickly.

  Laura turned, her face bright. "Really? Qh, Clay, thank

  Judith Michasl

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  sifted flour into a huge bowl. "Why I always end up cooking for the Janssens when they're having a catered dinner is more than I can understand. There's the yacht party tomorrow night, which I have slaved over for two weeks; there's regular meals for all the houseguests—^I might as well be cooking in a hotel —and I predict there will be a great demand for a substantial brunch on Monday, when everybody recovers from being on the yacht all night—"

  "Vou love it," Laura said, "having Barbara Janssen ask for your special cake instead of trusting her own cook or the caterers."

  Rosa chuckled. "You're getting cheeky, my young miss. A month ago you wouldn't have talked to fierce Rosa that way."

  "You weren't ever fierce. I was just scared."

  "And now you're not. For which we have Mr. Owen to thank."

  "And you. I have you to thank, too."

  They worked all day, talking quietly or not at all but comfortable with each other as they followed the timetable Rosa had made that morning. Im part of Rosa's kitchen, and that means I'm part of the housefiold. I belong here.

  She belonged with all of them, she thought that night at the Janssens'. She was helping Rosa in a comer away from the caterer's staff, and through the open door she could see Clay and Allison, in a huge white tent across the lawn, arranging centei^ieces on round tables draped in creamy linen. Clay wore dark pants and a white shirt and tie, Allison a long silk dress that was like a pastel flower garden, and the two of them talked companionably as they moved among the tables placing white lilies and ruby red ginger flowers in crystal bowls. The setting sun mmed the sky to copper and pink, the air was cool and still, and everything seemed so perfect tiiat Laura had to give someone a kiss, and Rosa was the closest, so she did. "My oh my," said Rosa, beaming. "We seem to be very big on affection tonight."

  "Yes," Laura said simply, and when Owen stopped in briefly to say hello before everyone gathered for drinks, he saw a new look on her face. Calmer, he thought; no longer that skittish child on the beach. And something else; she looked more open, as if she finally believed she didn't have to hide her feelings after all.