Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 01 - The Legitimate Way

by Rohn Federbush

  “Simon, I’d like you to meet Sally Bianco.” Penny slipped into the booth next to the straggly-haired older guy.

  “Simon Goldberg.” The man offered his hand to Sally.

  Sally looked at John, who shook the man’s outstretched hand. “John Nelson.” He pushed Sally down in the seat across from Penny and Simon.

  “Simon’s a lawyer.” Penny chatted away to cover the silence issuing from Sally’s side of the table. “He worked at Ford for years and they paid for his education. Isn’t that great?”

  “Fine,” John said. “Are you the father of the groom?”

  “I am the groom,” Simon said.

  “You are Robert’s present?” Sally asked.

  “Isn’t he great?” Penny did not meet Sally’s gaze. “And he’s fully functional!” Sally understood exactly.

  “As a defense attorney?” John tried to catch up. Simon smiled at Penny as she laughed, and laughed. The dawn rose in John’s red face. “I see,” he said, without understanding the previous problem Penny experienced with Robert.

  “How is Robert going to be pleased with this present?” Sally asked.

  “Oh, that’s why I waited for you to approve,” Penny said, eyes wide, all innocence personified.

  “The marriage?” John asked.

  “No,” Penny said. “I was worried Robert might not want to see me again…after I marry Simon.”

  Sally finally met Simon’s eyes. She spoke slowly because no one could be this stupid and not need help with language. “A problem worth considering.”

  Simon wasn’t shy about ignoring her implication and instead told them boldly, “Penny thought you two might stand up for us.”

  “Penny.” Sally touched her arm to get her attention. “Should we talk, privately?” Obviously, Simon did not have enough sense for her to bother with.

  “No.” Penny started to pout like the two-year-old infant she was. She wound her arm around Simon’s as if determined to drown with the idiot.

  “Mr. Goldberg …” Sally tried again to bring reason into the situation.

  “Simon.”

  “Simon.” Sally sighed deeply. “Did Penny tell you about her father’s suicide?”

  “I understand your concern. But I think you should know we have her mother’s approval. The family has known me for years.”

  “Yes, I can see you are well acquainted.”

  “We have to hurry,” Penny said. “The preacher is meeting us at Simon’s ranch.”

  Sally checked her watch. She was not hungry. “John, why don’t we pack?” She took the menu out of John’s hand before standing and pushing her chair away from the table. “We turned in the rental car last night.” She tried to keep all her mental ducks in a row. Sometimes life came at her so fast, she wasn’t always able to breathe properly, much less think logically. Nevertheless, escape seemed a good plan.

  “I’ll drive you.” Simon offered. “Why don’t I order breakfast rolls and coffee to go and we’ll meet you out front in say…twenty minutes?”

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  In the elevator John shook his head. “Exactly,” Sally said. “Should we just pack and board a plane to Detroit?”

  “Her family approves. Maybe we should help them out. Do you know how Robert will take this?”

  “No.” Sally dialed the Bibliopole’s number as soon as they returned to her room. “How am I going to tell him?”

  “I wouldn’t.” John rubbed his hands against the side of his slacks. “Let Penny Goldberg break the news. Remember, people often hate the bearer of bad tidings.”

  Sally hung up the phone before Robert could answer. “I’m such a coward.” She said, thinking again about needing a sponsor. John sat down next to her on the bed and put his arm around her shoulder. Sally looked up at him. He placed a hand under her chin, but Sally pulled away. “Too much is happening.” She apologized for the rebuff and patted John’s knee. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

  “That’s enough for now. Let’s get gussied up for a wedding.”

  “I guess we could leave our bags with the hotel. Should we make plane reservations now?”

  “Better wait until we find out the rest of their plans. I don’t think we should leave our bags. We don’t even know how far away his ranch is.”

  “Probably Austin,” Sally said, completely out of her depth.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  John Nelson sat in the front seat of the Cadillac with Simon Goldberg, who drove as if Penny might change her mind about marrying a man the same age as her father. He barreled down the interstate out of Houston. John coughed, turning to get Sally’s attention. “What is the speed limit in Texas?”

  Penny was all cheerfulness and laughter. “Simon’s a lawyer. He can talk his way out of a drunk-driving ticket.”

  “You do need your wedding witnesses to be alive.” Sally clutched her purse to her chest.

  “I’m pregnant.” Penny said as if to cheer her up and loud enough for John to hear.

  “My first child.” Simon turned proudly to inform John. The car reacted to the news, too. The right front wheel hit the gravel and they all bounced in their seats as Simon jerked the car back onto the road.

  “Listen,” John shouted. “Slow this thing down or I’ll beat you to a pulp as soon as you stop.”

  Simon slowed down. “Is sixty-five acceptable?”

  “Quite,” John said, not apologizing for his good sense. Sally felt a welcome surge of pride. She even smiled at Penny.

  At the ranch, with no horses or other domestic animals in sight, Penny and Simon linked arms as soon as the car doors were shut. “We made it home before the preacher arrived.” Simon strolled toward the house. “Time to have a celebration toast.”

  Penny smiled joyfully and encouraged Sally and John to follow them through the oak double doors of the ranch house. The cool slate floor was relieved at odd intervals with red shag carpeting. The only furniture to be seen were twelve red bar stools standing in front of a black-and-chrome bar. Floor to roof windows opened on both sides of the room. A mirrored wall behind the bar faced the entrance and reflected Sally’s unhappy expression. She smiled at herself.

  John abandoned her and accepted an empty champagne glass from Simon. A circular steel staircase next to the bar headed to a balcony, where a rumbled red counterpane lay half on the bed, half on the floor. Another door to the right of the front door led to other areas of the dwelling. Coming from the direction of the unseen areas, Sally could smell meat cooking in something highly aromatic, onions and spices. “Make yourself comfortable,” Simon called to her from across the empty room.

  Sally continued to stand in the middle of the living room. “How long have you lived here, Mr. Goldberg?”

  “Simon,” he said. “Fifteen years, last March.”

  “Were you waiting for a wife to pick out your furniture?” Sally was honestly curious.

  Simon smiled as he popped a champagne cork. “I believe in functional furniture. I drink in here, eat in the dining room, my cook cooks in the kitchen, and I sleep…well, I’ve changed my habits in the loft.”

  “A baby will need….” Actually, Sally didn’t own a clue about what a baby would need.

  “Simon will take care of everything.” Penny beamed.

  “Well,” John said. “For one thing, Penny, I know a pregnant woman shouldn’t be drinking.”

  “I bought non-alcoholic, too. Maybe we’ll have twins.” Simon slipped his arm around Penny’s slim waist.

  Sally edged toward the bar, still hoping something or somebody would intervene before the wedding took place. “Should we wait until after the wedding to celebrate?”

  “Too late.” Simon finished his glass in one gulp.

  John asked about the size of the ranch, the lack of livestock, and Simon’s plans for the future Mrs. Goldberg while Sally surveyed her own dire thoughts. If they married, they were doomed. Simon would be off to the city doing his lawyerly duties. Penny would be stuck out i
n this barren place biting her nails until the birth of…what? Twins? Even Martians if Penny had not stopped drinking soon enough. Either way, they would have no chance to survive in the modern, outside world.

  A squat woman, barely five feet tall, approached the group still huddled around the sterile bar. “Now, Simon, bring your guests into the dining room. Sonja, my daughter, is ready to serve the barbecue.”

  “Yes, Monica.” The prospective groom’s manner changed abruptly from the stance of a braggart to a gracious host. “Please, please, you’re surely hungry. We rushed you over your breakfast.” Simon ushered them past the housekeeper, who was dressed in what must have been Mexican garb or the latest retro-ranch fashion. Bare shoulders shone over a red, gathered blouse, hordes of bright colors swirled in her floor-length skirt.

  Sally thought the woman was barefoot, too. Her daughter, Sonja, was close to Penny’s age, perhaps even five years younger. The girl eyed Simon with what Sally thought was outright aggression. She was a fully-grown beauty, red lips, great dark eyes with lush lashes and about the same vertical size as her mother, but one-fourth the girth. Her attire was the exact match of her mother’s. Although similarly barefoot, Sonja walked on her tiptoes as if she just shed high heels, which kept her back straight, her hips swaying.

  Penny ignored both of the serving women and chatted happily with John, who seemed unable to smile for some reason. Sally tried to ease any tension John might be experiencing by clearing up matters at hand. “Penny, you know how Robert will feel about your marriage.”

  “He’ll be heartbroken,” Simon said.

  Penny went into her pout mode. “Robert thought Nancy was great for getting pregnant.”

  Sonja dropped a plate of meat covered in barbecue sauce in front of Penny, splattering brown spots all over Penny’s white lace-trimmed T-shirt.

  “Careful!” Simon jumped up. Sonja glared at him.

  Penny seemed to notice for the first time. “You love my husband!”

  “He’s not your husband!” Sonja flounced out of the room.

  Simon tried to explain the young girl’s infatuation. “Her family has been my family’s servants for five generations.”

  “Until now,” John said. “Your wife needs a supportive environment for the baby.”

  Monica served the rest of the meal in silence without her daughter’s angry presence.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  After the preacher arrived and awarded the couple the appropriate wedding vows, John asked the cleric for a ride to the airport. The groom was too many miles away from being a sober driver.

  “You will need to call Robert.” Sally said.

  Standing behind Penny, Simon encircled her waist with his hairy arms. He seemed unable to keep his hands off the child. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You haven’t asked about Robert’s case.” John held Penny at arm’s length as she tried to hug him good-bye.

  “You found Mary Jo, right?” Penny asked.

  “Yes.” Sally wondered how a father’s suicide could impair or otherwise affect a daughter’s brain. “She might refuse to come to Ann Arbor and Robert will need to clear his name.”

  “We’ll be there.” Simon’s arms tightened around Penny. The Goldberg servants were out of sight, but not out of Sally’s mind as they drove away from the ranch with the preacher.

  “Known those folks long?” John asked the preacher.

  “Monica’s a member of my congregation,” he said. “She asked me to do her a favor. Seems her daughter is hung up on the employer.”

  “So you performed the marriage to save her daughter?” Sally asked.

  “You could say that.” The preacher jerked his stiff collar. “Hope God doesn’t mind.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  John brought up another practical concern on the airplane back to Metro. “I would like to be a witness, if Robert faces and arraignment hearing, about the state of Mary Jo’s health. Is there a residence-hotel in Ann Arbor where I could stay?”

  Sally couldn’t help feeling complimented. “I’m sure we can find accommodations for you. I live in a one-bedroom condominium on the west side of town. I didn’t see your home in St. Charles.”

  “I live out west, on 64. James is taking care of my dog, Ginger.”

  “I remember 64’s route all the way to 47. Where do you live?”

  “Not far from Randall Road. Do you remember where the road curves enough for a guardrail? There’s a small dammed-up pond on the left side of the road. My place is on the right, behind a stand of weeping willows.”

  “I know the place. I mean, I’ve seen your house from the road. One story white ranch with lots of flowers along the creek in the summer.”

  “Do I remember your father was a house painter or a farmer?”

  “Both. He wasn’t a very good farm manager. They say I inherited his terrible temper. He started painting houses so he could work for himself and not worry about getting fired.”

  “You do not have a temper. Or, you would have horse-whipped Penny.”

  “Robert was looking forward to his present. How am I going to explain?”

  “Tell him the truth. You didn’t approve of the present.”

  “Do you think Simon will keep his word and show up to help Robert?”

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll go down and haul him up here.”

  “You love me, don’t you?”

  “Yep,” John said, going all John-Wayne for the moment. “Have since high school.”

  “You did not.” Sally swatted his shoulder.

  “I was being honest when I told you why I never married.” He held her gaze with his very large brown eyes.

  Sally earnestly prayed for help. Here was a man with integrity for the asking. “Please stay.” Then she allowed him to kiss her for the first time. Her heart played a warning flip of palpitations, but she didn’t mind. She held onto John’s earlobe after the kiss and then whispered into it, “I wish I was younger for you.”

  “Now is all we have, Sally.” John slipped his arm around hers. “Is it too early to buy you a ring?”

  “Way, too early.” She hung onto his huge hand. She was sure he would wait until she was ready for something more. “First, we clear Robert.”

  “I’m accustomed to life’s trials.”

  Sally thanked God she was too, especially with John at her side. Life could have a go at her. She was ready. “Do you want to hear my favorite poem?” Without waiting for John’s permission, she recited. “The Sentence, by Anna Akhmatova: ‘And the stone word fell on my still-living breast. Never mind, I was ready. I will manage somehow. Today I have a lot to do. I must kill memory, once and for all. I must turn my soul to stone. I must learn to live again. Unless – Summer’s ardent rustling is like a festival outside my window. For a long time I’ve foreseen this brilliant day, deserted house.’”

  “Not with me around,” John said. “I know a good thing when I see her.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ann Arbor, Michigan

  Last Monday in September

  The Bibliopole’s stock of folding chairs was completely utilized the evening John and Sally arrived back in Ann Arbor. Andrew Sites brought along Judge Joe Wilcox and Jimmy Walker, the state’s attorney, to view the video of Mary Jo. The usual suspects included Henry Schaeffer, the Tedler brothers in their police uniforms, as well as Robert’s co-conspirators, Harvey and Ed. Andrew’s laptop computer, which sat on the desktop of the secretary between the Liberty-Street windows, displayed a photo of Mary Jo holding up the previous Saturday’s newspaper.

  Penny and Simon Goldberg were the last bookshop patrons to arrive before Andrew started the video. John straightened his chair from its leaning position with a loud thud.

  Sally wished she’d kept her promise and secured a sponsor as soon as she arrived back in Ann Arbor. Robert’s dilemma and a dozen other ready excuses, like keeping John entertained with Ann Arbor’s resources, let her put off going to a meeting. The increasing t
ension in the room amplified her thirst. Alcohol was a cunning foe. If she wanted to stay sober, she needed a meeting where other alcoholics would help her remain sane and sober. Every one of the booklovers assembled held a glass of cream sherry, even John. Sally zipped open her purse and took a sip from her water bottle.

  “Look who’s here.” Robert waved his glass of sherry in Penny’s direction, as she entered. “Care to join us, stranger?” Robert aimed his remark at the man accompanying her.

  “This is Simon Goldberg,” Penny held her chin higher than was necessary for the news. “I can’t drink anymore.”

  “How do you do, Simon Goldberg. Do you read?”

  “Lawyer, Penny’s husband, and sire of her expected child.”

  “Doesn’t read.” Robert winked at John.

  “Now, Robert,” Penny whined.

  “Don’t now Robert me!” Robert concentrated his anger on his empty glass. “Is this the present you made Sally fly to Texas to approve?”

  “Why?” Penny turned her pout toward Sally. “What has Sally told you?”

  “Sally didn’t tell me you were fool enough to get pregnant with an old duffer and expect me to be happy about it, if that’s what you mean.” Robert poured himself a drink, drank it as if he just returned from days abandoned in a sandy desert, and then refilled his glass. His telephone rang. The silence was palpable as they all strained to hear. “Mary Jo.” Robert sat his glass down and put his hand over his heart. “Good to hear from you!” He listened, shaking his head affirmatively to the rest of us. “Good,” he repeated several times, and finally, “Thanks. See you soon.” He looked straight at Penny when he added, “All my love.”

  “When?” Andrew asked. “When will she arrive?”

  “Didn’t say,” Robert slurred. “More importantly, she’s coming. When Sally told her about Ricco’s four children, Mary Jo contacted their aunt. She’s interested in supporting the children. I never knew Mary Jo could afford to be so generous.”

  “Her wealth could be a further motive for Ricco to search for her,” Harvey said.

  “She’s bringing Ricco’s first wife with her.” Robert opened another bottle of cream sherry, offered it to the group, but poured himself another glass before relinquishing the bottle to Harvey who emptied it by refreshing the glasses of the remaining crew of eight drinkers.