“You mean they’re closed for the holidays? Has Miss Ryan been in?”
“No sir, the office is closed permanently. Mrs. Landers has stopped publishing her magazine. Miss Ryan, according to Mrs. Landers, will be taking possession of the building either today or tomorrow. I’m Clarence, Mr. Woojalesky. Perhaps you remember me.”
“Yes, Clarence, of course I remember you. Was this a sudden decision on Mrs. Landers’s part?”
“Mrs. Landers didn’t confide in me, Mr. Woojalesky,” Clarence said coolly.
“Clarence, if Miss Ryan should come in today, will you tell her I called and ask her to call me?”
“It’s rather late in the day, Mr. Woojalesky, I leave in forty-five minutes. I can leave a note on the desk if you like.”
“Please do that.”
A frown started to build on Woo’s face. Why would Justine Landers stop publishing her magazine just when her circulation was hitting an all-time high? And what did Justine Landers and Jory have in common that would make the young woman invite her to spend Christmas with her? An ex-mother-in-law. Ross said he had news to discuss with him. Jesus, he was dumb. It all made sense now. He was a dumb shit, just the way Ross said he was. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he growled.
“You talking to yourself?” Ross said, sticking his head in the open door. “How’d it go today?”
“I didn’t turn any clients away. I probably made us fifty bucks. If we collect, that’s something else,” Woo mumbled.
Ross stepped into the office. “You okay, Woo? You look kind of . . . whipped. Listen, if a full day is too much, cut back to half a day. I don’t want you having a setback. You’ve come too far to have a relapse. I think this dinner we have planned is just the ticket for you. You can stay at home with me instead of making that trip back to Chestnut Hill. Come on, the hell with all this shit, let’s close up now. I think we both need a drink. We don’t have any other clients coming in. Don’t worry about cleaning up. My father does that. For some reason,” Ross said, lowering his voice, “he likes watering the plants, emptying the trash, and cleaning the ashtrays. But the biggie is, he loves sharpening pencils. You should see this place in the morning when I walk in. You’d swear a cleaning crew went through it. He works cheap too. Some weeks he doesn’t get anything. Last week I paid him fifteen bucks. That’s the most I’ve paid him, and he works from eight to five.”
“Okay, Ross. I just have a call or two to make and then I’ll meet you in the reception area. Are we walking or riding?”
“Either/or. It’s a block and a half away. It’s your call, Woo.”
“Let’s walk. The exercise is good for me.”
“Okay. I just want to pack up my briefcase. I have a couple of things I need to read over this evening. I have oral arguments tomorrow at nine.”
Woo nodded. That had to mean it was going to be an early evening. He dialed Jory’s number again and listened to it ring eleven times before he hung up the phone. Where the hell was she? Or was she simply not answering her phone, and if so, why? He wished he was a little kid again so he could run to his room and cry until he fell asleep.
“It’s a new year, Woo,” Ross said happily on the way to the restaurant. “I think it’s going to be great for both of us. You’re walking, which is the best thing of all. Woo,” Ross lowered his voice, “I prayed like hell for you. I went to the Catholic church and asked the priest how to do it, what prayers to say. He showed me how. I started going to a Catholic church on Sundays to see what it was all about. I never did get the hang of the beads, so I just read all those little cards the priest gave me. Church on Sunday was for you.”
“You mean the mass?”
“Yeah, yeah, the mass. He said it for you. Everyone in church prayed for your recovery. Out loud. We did it out loud. When I was sitting there, I knew you’d make it. Really knew. Hell, I know you have two more operations to go through, but in the end you’re going to be walking all by yourself. That priest tried to sign me up, but I said I wasn’t ready. I’m no churchgoer. I guess you have to be psychologically ready for a commitment to something so serious. I’m serious about the praying, for you, but that other stuff, I don’t know if I can handle that. Do you know what I mean, Woo?”
“Sure,” Woo said quietly.
Ross stopped. “Listen, Woo, do you ever wish it was me instead of you? It’s okay to think that. Sometimes I think you must hate my guts that I’m walking around and you need a cane. I’d cut off my arm for you, breathe for you if I could, if it would help you. You have to believe that, Woo. Whatever you want, whatever you need, it’s yours. I mean that from the bottom of my heart, Woo. Jesus, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, the best friend a guy could want.”
Give me Jory, let me have her all to myself. Don’t stand in my way. “I feel the same way, Ross,” Woo said, and he did.
“Here we are,” Ross said, holding the door open for Woo to go through ahead of him. “My father will join us as soon as he finishes up. It will give us time to have a drink by ourselves and to talk and catch up. How was Christmas?”
“Very quiet. My parents went to Florida to see my oldest sister. She had a baby the week after Thanksgiving. They’ve never been out of Lancaster. Mom loves the palm trees, and Pop said he would never get used to swimming in a pool on Christmas Day. They don’t seem to be in a hurry to come home. We all told them to stay until spring. They might,” Woo said, sitting down with a thump.
“Did you guys miss me?” Ross asked wistfully. “I thought about all of you all day long. Why didn’t you ask me, Woo?”
“I needed to be by myself. I wasn’t even going to go, but then I . . . it was the spur of the moment. I thought you’d understand.”
“Yeah, I figured it was something like that. Did you have a nice tree, were there lots of presents?”
“Sure. From you. You don’t have to do that, you know. We called Mom on Christmas Day and told her about her dishwasher. She was so excited. My brother read her the model number and she was going to the store down there to look at it. That was real nice of you. Last year she cried over that washing machine. You’re a kind man, Ross Landers,” Woo said sincerely. Ross flushed.
“So, what is it you want to tell me?” Woo asked carefully, knowing he wasn’t going to like what he heard.
“You really want to hear?”
“Isn’t that why we’re here? Come on, spit it out!”
“I asked Jory to marry me. She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no either. She’s weakening, I can feel it. We have so much in common these days. I want you to be my best man. That’s what I wanted to tell you . . . ask you. Will you? Be my best man? Hell, I can’t get married without you as my best man. Look, I know you like Jory a lot and she likes you a lot, but you two aren’t in love, are you? I thought about that and I know you, Woo, you’d never go behind my back and do something like that. I need to know if . . . Am I wrong, is there something between you two, and is that why Jory is taking so long to say yes? And no, we haven’t had sex. Sex isn’t what this is all about. Well it is, but it isn’t. We just talk and hold hands and once in a while she lets me kiss her. She’s nervous about me. I told her I don’t care if she can’t have kids. I’m perfectly willing to adopt or not adopt. I know something like that would matter to you, because you said you want a whole houseful of kids. Some men can’t accept not having an heir, a son. I don’t care about that, that’s how much I love Jory. So, will you be my best man if she says yes? You don’t think she’ll turn me down, do you, Woo?”
Woo swallowed his wine in one gulp. “She’d be a fool to turn you down, Ross. I didn’t know she couldn’t have children. But then, why would she tell me?”
“I didn’t know it either. She had an . . . oophorectomy when she miscarried. We had a fight right out on the street. She goddamn gave me a black eye and kicked my shins so hard I limped for two weeks. She had too much to drink that night, and we ended up staying here in the office. That’s when she really let me hav
e it. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. She said she wanted lots of kids. I told her it didn’t matter. I think she believes me. What do you think, Woo? You still haven’t said if you’ll be my best man. Guess that means yes, huh?” Ross said happily.
What did he think? That he was the biggest fool ever to come out of the state of Pennsylvania. “It sounds like you’ve got things under control. Who else would you get for your best man?” It wasn’t a yes or a flat no. It would give him time to think of a way out of this web. He gulped at his second glass of wine, grateful Ross hadn’t noticed his vague response.
“Our friendship won’t change when I get married, will it, Woo?” Ross asked anxiously. “I mean, you like Jory and she likes you. I don’t want to have to worry about that, but I do need to know.”
This can’t be happening to me, Woo thought. Somebody else is sitting here in my body going through this. This isn’t me. Why don’t I just tell him what I feel and leave? He chose his words carefully. “I don’t think your wife will want you hanging around a single guy too much. As a single guy, I won’t want to hang out with a newly married couple. What will you do, Ross, if Jory says no?”
“She won’t. I can see it in her face, in the way she talks. We’re going to find you some sweet young thing who will love you to death and give you a dozen children. From this point on I’m going on the lookout for you. If I leave it up to you, you’ll end up being a bachelor. I want you to be as happy as I am. You deserve the best, Woo, and I’m going to make sure you get the best.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Ross, I’d prefer to find my own wife,” Woo said coolly.
“Well, sure, but just in case nothing comes along real soon, I’ll be on the lookout. We have similar tastes in women, so I know what you like.”
“You make it sound like I’m looking for a brood mare. I’m in no hurry to marry. I have a couple of years of . . . of being like this before I can think about a particular girl or marriage. Where is it written that I have to get married?”
Ross snorted. “It’s not written anywhere. You said, and this is a direct quote, ‘I can’t wait to fall in love, get married, and have ten kids.’ You said that to me on a hundred different occasions.”
“I was a kid then, what the hell did I know about life and responsibility? And wasn’t it you, Ross, who told me over and over that I’m a dumb shit and homely as a mud fence,” Woo said, then added bitterly, “and crippled in the bargain.”
“I never meant it the way you’re saying it, and you fucking well know it, Woo. I don’t want to hear you talk like that.”
“Maybe if you’d only said it once, I’d believe you. For some reason now, it seems like you did mean it.”
Ross’s vision blurred. He felt his throat tighten. “Woo, I love you like you were my brother. I wish you were my brother. There is nothing in the whole fucking world I wouldn’t do for you. I never meant to hurt your feelings. I would never do that intentionally. It was like a game, you calling me a rich snob who needed a transfusion of real blood. I never got upset over that. It was a give-and-take thing. At least I thought so. Aren’t you a little late taking me to task for it all? Jesus Christ, I owe you my life. We wouldn’t be sitting here now if it wasn’t for you. I don’t know if this means anything to you or not, but I like to think I would have done the same thing for you.”
“It means a lot, Ross, but then I already knew that. Listen, why don’t we talk about something else?”
“Sure, what?” Ross said, a foolish grin on his face.
“For instance, today I called the office of TIF. Your mother sent on some folders of mine she said I left behind. She mailed them to the carriage house, and I got them when I got home last night so I called to thank her. Clarence answered the phone and said Mrs. Landers stopped publishing TIF and left. The new tenant, Miss Ryan, would probably take over the offices tomorrow. Do you know anything about that?”
“It sounds like my mother and Jory struck up some kind of deal. Nah, Jory wouldn’t do that. Mother probably moved to the warehouse.”
“Listen, Ross, as much as I hate to admit this, my sister buys those . . . those awful magazines. I read them while I was home because there was nothing else to read. In the issue I read, your mother wrote a short letter on the editorial page saying that the magazine would soon cease publication, that there would be only two more issues. It wasn’t important to me, and for all I knew, your mother might have used that as some kind of marketing ploy. I didn’t think about it again until Clarence told me your mother left. If she was publishing somewhere else, she would have taken Clarence with her. At least I think she would have. She’s your mother, Ross, I think you ought to check into it. Some of those high rollers she chewed up might be . . . gunning for her. It’s a bit farfetched, but it is possible. She could be in trouble.”
“Yeah, she is. She didn’t pay Jory the rent for over a year. She doesn’t think things through. It would be just like her to stop publishing to get out of paying the rent.”
“Your mother is not that stupid, Ross. It’s none of my business. I just thought I should mention it.”
“I’m certainly not going to worry about it. Here’s my father. Tell him what you just told me and see if he’s worried.”
“Tell me what?” Jasper said, accepting a glass of wine from Ross. Woo repeated what he’d just told Ross.
Jasper shrugged. “Justine is a law unto herself. I suppose, if any of us are interested, we could call Jory and ask her what she knows, if anything. Speaking for myself, I’m not interested enough to call. What about you, Ross?”
“I’m not either. Woo?”
“It’s none of my business,” Woo said.
“And on that note, I think we should order,” Ross said, motioning to the waiter.
Later, over Ross’s and Jasper’s protests, Woo climbed into his van to drive back to Chestnut Hill, saying he was fine and he needed fresh clothes for the morning.
It was a lie, he would never be fine again.
Today was probably the worst day of her life, Jory thought as she slammed the load of books in her arms onto the kitchen table. She’d barely slept during the night, and when she did doze, she dreamed about Ross and Woo. When she finally crawled from bed at six o’clock, her nose was stuffy and her throat scratchy. Why shouldn’t she get a cold? Everyone else seemed to have one, and it was the flu season.
She’d spent the better part of the day at the West Chester University library and different bookstores, trying to find out everything she could about magazine publishing. When she returned home, it was to a ringing phone and Woo’s note in the mailbox. She was reading the short note, her heart pounding in her chest, when she heard Justine’s voice on the other end of the line.
“I called to say good-bye,” Justine said.
“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, Justine?” Jory asked in her scratchy voice.
“For me it’s the right thing. Everything is waiting for you, Marjory. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Clarence is a wealth of information. He was my right hand for many, many years. He was much more than a janitor; that was a title he gave himself. He did everything. He’s loyal and dependable. Hire good people and let them lead you out of the maze of newness. Watch and listen to them. I left my journals for you.”
“I feel like I’m starting something from a mail-order course. I don’t know if I can do this, Justine,” Jory said fretfully.
“You won’t know unless you try,” Justine said briskly. “Everything’s been set in motion for you. Follow through. You’ll be hearing from my New York attorney in a day or so. Advertise for good help or do as we discussed, recruit from the colleges in the area. I have to go now, I just called to say good-bye and to wish you luck. Please keep your promise to me, Marjory.”
“I will, Justine. Happy New Year.”
“The same to you, and thank you for Christmas. I’ll always remember that. Another minute and I’ll be making a fool of myself and be slobbering all ove
r my nice new traveling suit.”
“It’s alright to have feelings, Justine. You kept yours bottled up too long. I did that too. Sometimes you have to yowl and scream and bay at the moon. I punch my pillow a lot. Try it sometimes,” Jory said softly.
“I’ll remember that if things get . . . sticky. Good-bye, Marjory.”
“ ’Bye, Justine.”
Jory looked at the clock. Five-thirty. Time to make the dogs their dinner, fix some soup for herself, and then walk the dogs. She had plenty of time to do some serious thinking before Woo arrived at seven o’clock, plenty of time to make her decisions.
Jory worked automatically, her routine pat. She didn’t finish her soup because it hurt her throat to swallow. Her ears were starting to feel achy. She swallowed three aspirin before she bundled up to walk the dogs. On her return she made a pot of tea and laced it heavily with plum brandy. She drank it at the table, her eyes on the kitchen clock. At a quarter to eight she finished the tea. She smoked until eight-thirty, one cigarette after the other, her ears tuned toward the window for the sound of Woo’s van. At nine-thirty she turned out the light on the porch and the one in the kitchen. At ten o’clock she took a hot, steaming shower, hoping it would ease her throbbing headache and unclog her nose. At ten-thirty she rubbed Vicks salve on her chest and under her nose. She put both hot water bottles in the middle of the bed before she looked out the window to see if Woo had returned while she was in the shower. The driveway was empty.
“You can just go to hell, Pete Woojalesky,” Jory muttered.
Jory settled herself between the covers, her head high on three plump pillows. In the stillness of the night she heard Woo’s return a half hour later, heard the door close, heard his footsteps on the concrete and the tap of his cane, heard the door to the carriage house open and close. She almost jumped out of her skin when the phone next to the bed rang a moment later. The dogs growled softly as they shifted position on the heavy comforter next to her. The phone continued to ring. Jory buried her head in the pillow.
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