“Call for an ambulance,” her mother instructed calmly. “Calm down, take a few deep breaths. Get to the hospital. I’ll call Jim to meet you there, since Frank is away.”
Wendy did as she was instructed. The pains were growing more intense. In the ambulance, she started crying and couldn’t stop. Frank! Why aren’t you here when I need you?
~ ~ ~
Jim Weston located a doctor and demanded information.
“The baby’s apparently in some distress. Possibly caused by the premature contractions. We’re not sure and we’ve decided she needs a Caesarian and we’re getting her ready. Can you reach her husband?”
Jim nodded. “I have a call in. Will she be all right?”
“I don’t see any reason why she shouldn’t be. She’s healthy, hasn’t had any other problems, and it’s not dangerously early, maybe three weeks.”
“And the baby?”
“As far as we can tell right now, everything should be fine. We won’t know until we deliver, of course, but all her exams so far have been normal. She hasn’t had any problems.”
“What happened? She said she had no pains before.”
He shook his head. “Just one of those things. Babies tend to come when they want to.”
Jim expelled a long breath, exasperated by what seemed to him to be offhanded detachment, only a professional interest. I can’t do any good here and Jewel is worried. “I’ll be at home with her mother. Call me when there is news.”
“I’ll do that.” The doctor smiled. “And don’t worry, Mr. Weston. You’ll be a grandfather in no time.”
He hadn’t thought about that. A grandfather? What an intriguing thought.
~ ~ ~
In the early morning hours, a shaken Frank Powers stepped into the private room Wendy was occupying. She was lying still, her eyes closed, and her pale face frightened him. He approached quietly and put the box he was carrying on the tray table. “Wendy?”
She opened her eyes and looked blankly at him.
“Wendy, are you okay?”
She smiled, recognizing him. “We have a daughter. Almost six pounds. She’s perfect, and I call her Phyllis, for my father.”
“That’s fine.” He took her hands and noticed that his were still shaking. “But how are you? An emergency? A Caesarian? What happened?”
“I’m tired, Frank. And sore.” She closed her eyes. “But how did you know? You left. You were gone . . .”
“Your father, Jim, called me.” Frank had vowed he would never tell anyone just what Jim said to him when he had finally reached him at his hotel. “I came right back, on the first flight I could get. I just got here.” He fumbled behind him for the flat white box. “I got this for you, and Phyllis.”
She looked a long moment at the two white sweaters in the box, the fluffy angora one for her and the tiny one with a matching cap beside it. “They’re beautiful, Frank.”
He met her eyes. “And so are you. Can you forgive me?”
“Forgive you?”
“For forgetting you. For not putting you, and Phyllis, into my plans. I didn’t even know you had a name picked out. I hadn’t thought that far.” I haven’t thought much about a lot of things. Just me.
She closed her eyes. “Did you have another name?”
“My mother’s name is Louise and I thought . . .” He watched tears escaping under her closed eyelids and recalled what Jim had said. And all that he said is true. Wendy is a wonderful girl. “I think Phyllis Louise would sound very nice.”
His wife opened her eyes again and smiled slightly. “So do I.”
He picked up her hand and held it against his chest, remembering how it had been when they were first married, how much he had loved her. How could I have forgotten? How could I have let work get in the way? And I could have lost her. Them. He kissed her fingers. “I’m going to see if I can get something to eat, at least some coffee. Then I’ll be back. Don’t go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Frank. Just come back.”
“I have to. All of those plans I’ve made have to be redone to include Phyllis, don’t they?”
“And me this time?”
He heard the plea in her soft voice. “All of us,” he said. “And your mother really wants to see her. Just as soon as you can. She wants you to go there to recover from the surgery. And Vi really wants to take care of you. And the baby.”
“Why don’t you go home and get some rest? I really need some sleep.”
He kissed her fingers again. “You go to sleep and I’ll come back and rest here. So I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She smiled at him and closed her eyes. When he knew she was asleep, he went out and asked the nurse at the desk about coffee. She directed him to the cafeteria. He had a lot to think about.
Everything in his life had changed.
48.
Shortly before nine o’clock in the morning of November 15th, Anita Fontaine called Ken Weston. He just had gotten up and was drinking his first cup of coffee, the first of too many he would drink during the day. He had little else to do. With no work to go to, no projects, no problems to solve, he was bored. He had tried not thinking about the company, but he did. What is he doing without me? I’ve been doing half the work for years.
Anita’s call surprised him. She was totally devoted to Jim.
“Ken, can you come to the office, please? You have to. Your father called and told me to get everything spruced up because he had a possible buyer for the company. He told me to hire help if I needed it. He’ll come in before lunch, he said.”
Ken could not believe he had heard correctly. He can’t do that! It’s my company, too. He managed to keep his voice fairly even. “Since when has he talked about selling? I don’t believe it. It’s his whole life.”
He can sell it, of course, since I’ve got nothing in writing saying its mine, too. We never got around to that. There wasn’t any reason.
“He said he couldn’t run it alone. He said, if you don’t care, neither does he. Please, don’t let him do this, Ken. It will kill him.”
He knew that was almost literally true and heard Anita’s unspoken accusation, And you’re killing him, too. “All right, I’ll come as soon as I can, Anita. Don’t cry.” She certainly sounded as if she were.
“I’ll try.”
For a moment, Ken debated calling Sue and telling her where he was going, but there was no need to upset her. She had a list of long time clients this morning. I’ll wait to see what happens. Right now, his father needed him. The Weston Construction Company needed him. The business Ken had spent his life working for needed him. How can I let him throw it all away? How can I let it all go? It’s his life. It’s been my life. A life I’ve always enjoyed. A business I’ve always seen myself owning, running, building up.
There was another thought, one he had avoided considering during the past weeks. I’ve always known how he is, but he cared for me. All my life.
Ken stopped on the front walk on the way to his car and looked back at his house, the house given to him by his biological father, a man he had never met, had never even heard of. It was a nice house, a good starter home, probably better than one he would have bought. He was grateful for it, and for the money which was allowing him to stand here debating his future.
But Carmond gave it to me out of spite. He spent his life hating my father, the father I knew, the one who took care of me after my mother died. He used this to get back at him. Through me. He never knew me. He could have contacted me when I was an adult, but he didn’t. How can I accept what he gave me through hatred? And what do I do now?
He didn’t know what he could do, only what he would do. If it isn’t too late to do anything. I guess I play this one by ear.
When he arrived at the company of
fice, from habit using his own marked parking space, he stopped on the front walk and regarded the neat office building. It had recently been renovated according to his plan, his ideas of modernization, accommodating all of the latest technology. His father had said to do what he wanted since it would one day be his and he knew little about computers and such and had left that to Ken and Anita.
This was, Ken knew now, what he wanted. Had always wanted. Can I get it back, after all I said? All he said? Can it ever be the same? How do we start over, or start again from here?
Anita was at her desk as she always was, and she was crying. Her eyes were swollen and red, her mascara was smudged, and her face was blotchy. She looked up at him, beseeching. “Thank God you’re here. You do care, don’t you, Ken?”
A sharp pain stabbed his chest. It isn’t just me. It’s all those people who have worked for him, for us, all these years. “I do. Get him on the phone and don’t say it’s me.”
He waited while she placed the call, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk, debating what he would say if his father would talk to him, and heard her talk with Viola. What could he say, after all he had already said? All they had both said. Anita handed him the receiver smiling slightly, hopefully.
“Anita,” Jim said crossly, “I told you not to bother me. Just hire somebody to come in and help you.”
Ken heard the despair in his voice and it hurt. He took a deep breath and said, as mildly as he could manage, “You told her to get some help so she called me, and if you don’t get down here I’ll mess things up so bad even Anita can’t straighten it out.”
The line was silent for a long moment and Ken unconsciously held his breath, waiting, hoping.
“Ken, you . . .”
He heard both relief and exasperation in his father’s voice and blew out a long breath to get control of himself. “And what’s the idea of trying to sell? I’m still half of this company.”
“You quit. You said you wanted nothing more to do with it. Or me.”
“Since when did you ever believe anything I said?” He didn’t give Jim a chance to answer. “Are you coming down here or do I botch things up all by myself?”
“I’m coming.”
“You’d better. I’m a bit behind.”
“That’s your fault.”
Some of the self-assurance was back in his voice and Ken sighed inwardly. Some things never change. “I know it, Dad. I’m pig-headed, just like you.”
“Maybe.” There was a long pause then Jim said slowly, “I’m glad you’re back, Ken. I missed you. I need you. The company needs you.”
Ken wondered for a moment just how much that admission had cost him. Maybe it was a good beginning, a place to start to set things straight. “I’ll be here.” He handed the receiver back to Anita.
She took it smiling. “You don’t know how much that did for him.”
“Don’t I?”
She laughed shortly. “I guess you do. It’ll all work out, believe me.”
~ ~ ~
When Jim arrived, Ken was in the outer office looking through a pile of papers with Anita, trying to orient himself. There were new projects, jobs he didn’t know about, mostly from his weeks at High Meadow and a few proposals. It would take a while to get back into the swing of things, but he had always liked a challenge. If Dad doesn’t make it too hard for me.
Jim stood in the doorway a long minute before he asked, “Why did you change your mind?”
“Like you said, this is where I belong.”
Jim came a step closer. “I couldn’t take that again.”
Ken suppressed a smile. “We don’t have to sign a contract, Dad. I just have one small condition to coming back.”
“What’s that?”
Ken heard the skepticism, and understood it. “You named me vice-president, now let me be one. I know you’re the boss, this has always been your company, but give me a couple of privileges. After all, I’m going to be a family man myself pretty soon.”
“I’ll try to remember.” Jim paused. “Your mother and I met Laura a while ago. She seems like a nice girl, just what Rich needs. Why didn’t you tell us about her? Why keep what Rich does so secret?”
“He asked me not to. He wants to do things his own way.”
“I wish you were as loyal to me.”
Ken squashed a retort and asked, “Did you think I was going to go to work for McCauffrey or somebody?” It was the first competitor he thought of, their biggest rival for local work.
After a long moment during which he stared out the window, Jim said, “No, I didn’t think that.” He turned and held out his hand. “I’m glad you’re back, Ken. If you act like my vice-president, I’ll think of you as one.” He paused for another long moment, still not looking directly at him. “We’ll do the paperwork. Make this company half yours. I always intended to someday. You know that.”
His voice was almost back to normal and Ken relaxed inwardly a little. We will reach an accommodation. It will just take a little time. He clasped his hand around Jim’s. “Agreed.”
Jim turned toward his office and Ken followed him. He’ll never be any different, but do I want him to change? I’ve made my point. Isn’t that enough?
“What’s new?” Ken asked. “I need to get back up to speed if Sue and I are going to be gone for two weeks.”
“Where are you going for your honeymoon?”
“The Caribbean. Sue’s arranged a cruise, some last-minute special deal she found.”
“Never been there.” Jim pulled open the door to his office. “Let’s get busy.” He looked back. “Anita, some coffee maybe?”
“Sure thing.”
Ken laughed at himself. It would be a long day, but it was good to be back where he belonged.
49.
Rich spent a long sleepless night. He wished Laura had stayed, but she had to leave for work before six and there were things she said she needed to do at home. And, as much as she supported him and his decision to try to patch things up with his stepfather, he had to do it himself. She could not go with him. But she would be thinking about him, she told him, wishing him well.
“You’ll be going back to teaching in January,” she said. “We will be married as soon as school is out. You are independent, making your own decisions, and you can stand on your own two feet. We can face the world together without his approval, but it would be nice if you went there and told your mother, at least.”
She had smiled, kissed him, and held him close, comforting and encouraging him. “His approval would be very nice to have. You said tomorrow is Jim’s birthday. What better day to go? And it will do your mother a world of good. She is such a sweet person and she really needs you.”
He knew all that. He was glad now Laura had convinced him, forced him, to go back to teaching, made him see that he was hurting only himself, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He was now beyond being hurt again, no matter what Jim might say to him. He would do it for his mother’s sake. And Laura’s. He might end up sad, but sadness can be coped with, cured, and he had Laura to help him through it.
He was, when he thought about it, relieved Laura had gone to see Jim and met his mother, liked her, and had stopped for tea with her several times since. He was annoyed when she told him of the visit to Jim, resentful that she didn’t tell him she was going, but she had made him see that it was necessary, that it was the first step back, and he needed to make it. She had made it easier for him to go today.
“Just think of him as a grouch,” Laura said. “That it’s just his way, his image of himself as a business tycoon or something. You aren’t part of his plan, you never really were, and you don’t have to be. You are something else. Your life, your future, are in another direction. He has to accept that. Your mother has and she’s content with i
t. She just wants your happiness. Ken had to go back but you don’t have to.”
Rich held that thought to himself as his anchor. I’m on my own. I don’t need him. I’m a teacher of kids, all kids, not just those who want to play baseball.
Thinking of baseball still hurt, but his leg was getting stronger. Maybe some men’s softball somewhere, sometime? Mother has managed to cope, so can I.
~ ~ ~
Rich decided to visit his mother on his way home from work. Jim should be home by then. It was time to face both him and his future. Squarely, with a confidence he didn’t really feel.
The day was heavily overcast and winter was in the air, but it probably wouldn’t snow. It was almost dark when he turned into the driveway. He walked around the house and went in quietly through the rear entrance rather than knock at the great front door. I’m still a backdoor person. Still a part of the family. He wondered for a moment if he really were.
He heard Vi in the kitchen and did not go that way, instead walked through the big house trying not to remember living here. He knew now, could admit it to himself, that it had been mostly good.
He located Jim in the living room. He was sitting on the floor by the coffee table helping Archie construct an elaborate windmill with an Erector Set. I used to do that with my father. A few times with Jim. I wonder if that’s my old set. The thought made him smile, and he was still smiling when he said, “Jim, Happy Birthday.”
Jim met his eyes a moment. He didn’t smile, but he got up slowly, using his hand on the table to push himself erect.
He’s getting old. Does he have arthritis? It was an odd thought, one he had never considered, that Jim might change.
Rich said, “I’m knocking,” and held out his hand.
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