Alligators in the Trees

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Alligators in the Trees Page 21

by Cynthia Hamilton


  “Thank you,” she said after a moment’s reflection.

  “Sure, you’re welcome. And thank you for selling them to me.” Priscilla laughed, though it sounded more like a faint wail.

  “What?” Tobias asked.

  Priscilla shook her head. “Nothing.” She turned and looked out the window. “Well, I guess I need to get to the bank,” she said, reaching for the door handle. Having to go to a bank was one of the details she had overlooked when she had planned out her escape to Florida.

  “If you take the check to my bank, there won’t be any hold placed on it,” Tobias suggested. Nodding at this reasoning, Priscilla unfolded the check to find out where he banked. Of course, it would be back uptown.

  “Why don’t you let me take you there? It doesn’t look like you’ve got any more walking in you.”

  She found it hard to argue with that observation. “If you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said. Tobias merely smirked before picking up the phone to converse with his driver. The car glided away from the curb as smoothly as if it were a shark in deep water.

  Priscilla leaned back against the plush seat, feeling as though she might melt into the upholstery. She felt she owed Tobias some sort of conversation, but when she turned her head toward him, she lost her nerve, even though his expression seemed to welcome dialog.

  She smiled timidly and faced forward, closing her eyes again, this time for a silent celebration. This was by far the most thrilling day of her life. It was also the most terrifying. Her eyes popped back open with a start.

  “You all right?” Tobias asked, as she jerked forward suddenly.

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “No problem. Just sit back and relax. The ride’s going to take a few minutes. Traffic’s already getting backed up.”

  Priscilla gratefully complied. Within two minutes, she had fallen into a heavy sleep. When Tobias jiggled her arm softly, she had no idea where she was. “Oh!” she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright, the back of her hand going reflexively to the corner of her mouth to wipe the bead of drool that had formed there.

  “We’re here,” Tobias said, evidently finding her fatigue comical. Priscilla blinked several times to shake off sleep’s paralyzing serum. She felt the door for the handle, but the chauffer opened it before she could.

  “Why don’t I go in with you? I’ll speak to the manager and get all the formalities out of the way, how’s that?” Tobias asked. Priscilla was hardly in any state to handle formalities of any kind. She accepted his offer gratefully.

  They had to wait in the main lobby for a couple of minutes while the branch manager could be found. During that awkward period, Tobias shuffled his feet and fidgeted like a kid, constantly looking over his shoulder, as if the Paparazzi would be on him any second.

  In the meantime, Priscilla’s brain began to fire on all its synapses. When the manager did appear, Tobias was quick to explain the situation and get out of there.

  “I’ll wait for you in the car,” he said in a low whisper, slinking off like a hunted man. The bank manager, a man named Haskell Worthington III, showed Priscilla to his office, where they could discuss in private her reason for being there.

  “So, Miss…Vanderpool, how would you like to handle the disbursement of these funds?” he inquired in his habitually solicitous tone.

  “Could I get it converted to traveler’s checks?” she asked. Mr. Worthington beamed as if she’d come up with a most brilliant solution.

  “Absolutely! Of course.” He leaned into the speakerphone and summoned one of his minions. “Natalie, bring one hundred dollar denomination traveler’s checks for $14,300 to my office, would you please? I assume you want hundreds, for that large an amount?” he asked Priscilla, who nodded her agreement. “Yes, that’s correct. And please do hurry. We don’t want to keep one of the bank’s most important clients waiting.”

  Despite Mr. Worthington’s effort to expedite the process, the procedure took far longer than Priscilla had bargained on. She felt acutely every second that crawled by while she scribbled her signature on a seemingly endless stream of traveler’s checks, as if picking up on Tobias’s impatience telepathically.

  When she exited the bank almost thirty minutes later, she was surprised to find his limousine still parked where they had left it. The chauffer sprang out of the driver’s seat like he was ejected as soon as she was within ten feet of the vehicle, opening the door without daring to make eye contact with her.

  “I thought you’d have left by now,” Priscilla said as she climbed into the backseat. Tobias was positioned in the far corner, his body language conveying his intolerance for waiting.

  “I told you I’d be waiting for you,” he said coldly.

  “I’m sorry, it took a lot longer than I had anticipated.” Tobias seemed unmoved by this explanation.

  “Any more stops?” he asked with sarcastic graciousness. Priscilla shook her head. “Back to that address on Church Street,” he instructed the driver, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze taking in the sights of passing traffic.

  As Priscilla sat rigidly on the plush seat, she suddenly became annoyed—annoyed by the way he was now treating her, and annoyed that she found herself having to take it. How she managed to end up on the receiving end of Tobias Jordan’s bad humor, she’d never know. Why hadn’t she just told him to take a hike when he came snooping around her apartment building? And what the hell was he doing there in the first place?

  She had been so stunned by what had taken place afterward, she neglected to pin him down on that point. She glared at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to figure out what had caused the abrupt change in him. Mercurial celebrities—who needs ‘em?

  “I think I’ll get out here,” she said, as indignation took control. Tobias looked over in mild alarm. “You can tell your driver to pull over at the corner,” she said, watching their progress out her side window.

  “It’s no problem to take you back to your place—”

  “No… that’s way out of your way. Tell him to pull over,” Priscilla insisted. Tobias did as she instructed, though he hadn’t given up on persuading her to stay aboard.

  “Really, it’s no trouble to take you back…I’ve got nothing better to do right now,” he said.

  “Yeah, right. You’ve been more than accommodating. Besides, I don’t mind the walk.”

  “You were practically dead on your feet when I picked you up,” he countered.

  “Well, I feel surprisingly peppy now. Must be that fresh infusion of cold hard cash,” she said, moving toward the door as the car docked at the curb.

  “Wait…” Tobias said, an inexplicable urgency entering his voice. Priscilla turned back to him, waiting. “It feels funny leaving things this way. Why don’t we go have a drink somewhere, or something?” Priscilla got a mental flash of Tobias struggling to maintain a low profile in a very public place like a bar, and passed on the offer.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got a lot of things to take care of before five.”

  “Then let me drop you somewhere,” Tobias argued.

  “No, this is fine here,” she said, opening the door before the chauffer could get out of his seat. “Thanks for…relieving me of my lyrics,” Priscilla said with a strange laugh, the whole situation striking her as surreal. Tobias scooted over toward her as she pushed the door shut, blocking her attempt at closing it. Only his face and right arm were visible as he tried to stall her.

  “You know, I was really hoping to have a chance to talk to you about your work,” he said, his tone a complete departure from five minutes earlier. Priscilla remained unmoved by his solicitation. She gave him a half-smile and shrugged as if to say “oh, well.” She looked up and down the avenue, obviously antsy to get going.

  “Let me ask you one question, and then maybe we can get together some other time…to discuss your work.”

  Priscilla didn’t bother to enlighten him on her imminent travel plans. She shifted her feet and clutched her purse tighter to
her side.

  “Are you a musician?” Tobias asked. Priscilla shook her head. “No musical background, then?”

  “No,” Priscilla confirmed.

  “Then, why is it that you refer to your work as lyrics instead of poetry?” Priscilla smiled wanly.

  “Because I hear the music to every line I write,” she said.

  “Really? But you don’t know how to read or write music?”

  Priscilla shook her head again. “No, there’s the rub,” she said. “I hear the words and I hear the music, but the songs will never be played anywhere outside of my head.”

  Tobias regarded her solemnly for a moment. “Have you ever thought of studying music? All that stuff can be learned, you know.”

  Priscilla’s eyes darted back and forth over the top of the limousine. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to get going.”

  “Why were you going to burn your work?” Tobias asked. Priscilla tried to penetrate the dark lenses of Tobias’s glasses as he fixed her with an enigmatic gaze.

  Giving up, she backed away slowly, then walked in the opposite direction of the traffic, disappearing around the corner before Tobias could act. He slid back against the seat, anxiously contemplating this encounter for a few seconds before telling his driver to circle the block.

  Tobias’s eyes flitted nervously from side to side as he scanned the sidewalks for sight of her. When they had completed the loop, the driver requested further instructions. Without thinking, as if it were an involuntary reaction, Tobias gave Simone’s address.

  As the driver maneuvered the long vehicle to the far left lane and turned back in the direction of uptown, Tobias acknowledged that sometimes the physical needs are easier to satisfy than the cerebral.

  Sixteen

  “How was school today, Pumpkin?” Philip asked as he lined up to exit the school parking lot.

  “It was pretty good,” Caitlin replied as she rummaged through her backpack. “I got an A on my math test,” she added, producing the wrinkled evidence for her father’s praise.

  “Good job, Tiger! See, I knew you could do it. Well, this is terrific news. I think we need to celebrate, don’t you?” Caitlin was all for this idea. She bobbed her head so enthusiastically, her entire body shook along with it. “What would you like to do, then? You name it—the sky’s the limit.”

  “I want to go bowling,” she answered unequivocally. Philip looked at her askance.

  “Bowling?”

  “Yes, and I want Priscilla to come with us,” she said, with all the confidence of a child used to getting what she wants.

  “Oh, I see. And what exactly makes you think Priscilla would like to go bowling with us?”

  “She likes to go bowling. I heard her talking about it at the coffee shop one day.”

  “Did you, now?” Philip devoted his attention to making a left hand turn, just squeaking past the oncoming traffic.

  “Well, can we?”

  “Can we what?”

  “Can we call Priscilla and ask her to come bowling with us?”

  Philip glanced over at his daughter’s determined face. “I don’t have her phone number.”

  “How come? You went on a date with her.”

  “It wasn’t really a date,” Philip hedged.

  “Yeah, but you went out with her,” Caitlin insisted.

  “We’re just friends,” Philip explained.

  “I have all my friends’ phone numbers.”

  Philip took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t have Priscilla’s.” He was hoping that would put an end to the matter. He should have known better.

  “Let’s go by her house then.”

  Philip was beginning to regret having kept his daughter abreast of his budding relationship. “I don’t know where she lives.”

  Caitlin was clearly pained by this admission. She drew a deep sigh, as if to say her father was beyond hope. “Let’s go by the coffee shop then,” she suggested.

  “It’s closed now. Besides, I already told you—she doesn’t work there anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “She quit, remember.”

  “How are we ever going to see her again?” she asked, distressed by their dilemma.

  Philip had been pondering the same question all day. “She has my phone numbers. We’ll just have to wait for her to call us.” Caitlin settled back in her seat and turned her face toward the window. Her arms were crossed and her expression was dour. Philip felt guilty for letting her down.

  “Okay, so, we need a backup plan,” Philip said, trying to get Caitlin’s mind off her disappointment. “If Priscilla doesn’t call us anytime soon, what would be your second choice?”

  “I want to go somewhere and have pigs in blankets,” she said without hesitation.

  “You really like those, don’t you? But it’s not really something served for dinner,” Philip said as he wondered where in the city he could find a place still serving breakfast.

  “Yes it is. Randall Humpfries’ nanny makes him pancakes for dinner anytime he wants it. French toast, too,” Caitlin said, with more snippiness than Philip liked to hear.

  “All right, then—we’ll find a place that’s serves pigs in blankets for dinner. Or I’ll make them myself.”

  Caitlin regarded him skeptically. “You can’t make pigs in blankets. That’s restaurant food.”

  “I can make pigs in blankets. There’s nothing to it,” Philip said. Somewhat appeased by this promise, Caitlin turned on the CD player and wagged her head back and forth to the music. Suddenly, Philip’s cell phone rang, startling them both. Caitlin was quick to reach for it, answering it before Philip could protest.

  “Hi,” she said into the phone. “Who’s this?”

  Priscilla had not expected to hear a child’s voice on the other end. An announcement came over the PA system and Priscilla had to press her finger to her ear to hear anything.

  “Hi, this is Priscilla. Is this Caitlin?” Caitlin held her hand over the phone, her eyes bulging as she mouthed the caller’s identity to her father.

  “Let me have the phone,” Philip said, letting his attention wander away from the road, eliciting strenuous horn blaring as he strayed out of his lane.

  “Where are you? It sounds very noisy,” Caitlin managed to ask before her father wrenched the phone away from her.

  “Priscilla? Hi, it’s Philip.”

  “Hi Phil,” Priscilla said, instantly regretting not leaving him a voicemail message on his business phone. It would have been so easy, yet she found herself unable to speak once the beep sounded. She owed him more than a one-sided goodbye; after all, he had been her ticket to a new life.

  “What a coincidence that you should call now. We were just talking about you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yep, Caitlin got an A on her math test today and she wanted to celebrate by going bowling with you. Isn’t that funny?”

  “Yeah, that is funny,” Priscilla agreed, though she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to appreciate the humor of it. Another departure was announced, making communication temporarily impossible.

  “It sounds like you’re at Grand Central,” Philip said once they were able to converse again.

  “Penn Station, actually.”

  “Oh.”

  “The reason I called is to tell you I’m going to Florida tonight and I won’t be coming back.” Priscilla couldn’t tell if he was still there or if they had been disconnected. “Can you hear me?” she asked.

  “Yes, I can hear you.” Philip’s voice was clear, but at the same time, it sounded very remote.

  “I just wanted to call and say goodbye and let you know how much I enjoyed having met you.”

  “Why Florida? Why are you moving away? Is it because you lost your job here? I can make some calls and find you something much better. Let me help you. It’s really my fault you’re not working there anymore,” Philip said, speaking low in a futile effort to escape Caitlin’s keen interest.

  “It’s no
t the job issue. I need a change of scenery, that’s all. I’ve been in the city too long,” Priscilla said.

  “Wait a second—don’t hang up! I need to pull over,” Philip said, dropping the phone to his lap as he maneuvered his SUV across three lanes of traffic to secure a parking place.

  “Daddy, those cars are honking at us,” Caitlin said, excited by her father’s reckless conduct.

  “Stay here,” he said to Caitlin, as he hopped out into the street. “Are you still there?” Philip said anxiously into his cell phone.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” Priscilla assured him.

  “Look, you stay right where you are. We’ll come to you.”

  “No, Phil, don’t do that. My train leaves in forty-five minutes.”

  “You can’t get on it. You can’t leave until we’ve had a chance to talk.”

  Priscilla hung her head, silently cursing herself for making this call. She could’ve just as easily boarded her train and sidestepped this whole scene altogether. But no, she had a flaw in her personality that compelled her to do what was decidedly not in her best interest.

  “Phil, please. I’m getting on the train and I’m going to Florida.”

  “Priscilla, you can’t. I need to see you again.”

  Despite her irritation, Priscilla was moved by the plaintive tone in his voice. After all, how many people did she have in her life who felt so strongly about her? It wasn’t a question she had to ponder for long. She let her mind wander to the external white noise surrounding her. The chaos of it comforted her.

  “Priscilla…listen… I’ve got a proposal for you. If you wait one week, just one week, I’ll reimburse you your train fare and fly you to Florida, first class, if you still want to go. But you’ve got to let me see you again. I…I care about you very much. I care what happens to you, and I’m not going to be all right with your leaving without the opportunity of trying to talk you out of it. You’ve got to listen to me, just for a little while. I’ve got some pretty persuasive arguments for why you need to stay here in the city. Just give me one week to change your mind.”

 

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