On top of the uneasy feeling he still had for the creep, he couldn’t forget he believed Kent had his eye on Alex. His suspicion might well be possessiveness or downright jealousy on his part that he felt that way. But if he didn’t feel the situation was extreme enough to warrant it, he never would let Kent within ten feet of Alex.
“I decided the work I planned for Saturday would have to wait. My mother needs me,” Alex said, picking up the thread of their conversation.
“Are you flying or driving?”
“Driving. And I’ll be very careful. Other than you and the students, no one else knows I’m going.”
He shook his head. “I’ll drive with you and take a flight out from Houston.”
“Going to all that trouble is absolutely absurd. I know you’re worried about me. I am too, after the fire, but I’ll be at my parents’ home. I’ll be as safe as I can be.”
“You did invite me to accompany you to that party, didn’t you?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Good. I can make it since I’ll only be in Georgia one day.”
“Thank you.”
“What time do we leave for Houston?”
She heaved a deep sigh and turned her face to the window.
For a couple of minutes, Beck didn’t say anything. He wanted to give her time to blow off some internal steam and get used to the idea he was going with her, and nothing she could do would stop him.
Then, when she’d adjusted to having a passenger on the ride to Houston, they’d discuss exactly what time they would shove off tomorrow.
****
A few miles from the Houston city limits, Alex smiled as Beck read aloud from the manuscript she finished editing an hour earlier.
“The Legend of Little Bright Star, beautiful daughter of a great Chief of one of the Choctaw tribes, and her love for Angry Cloud, the rebellious young warrior of a neighboring, dissident tribe, is said to have circulated amongst the young maidens of marriageable age since before the sad trek Northward to Oklahoma.”
For most of their drive to Houston, he drove while she worked on the article about the artifact she’d unearthed and the legend surrounding it that now seemed more fact than fiction.
When they’d stopped for gas, she’d taken over the driving since she was familiar with the sprawling metropolis and the quickest way to Hobby International Airport. He’d taken that opportunity to read her work. She smiled now as his voice dropped off and he continued reading in silence.
Since she’d first begun the article, he’d asked numerous questions. He also made her promise to show him the bird’s head necklace before she shipped it off to the government agency responsible for repatriation when such an object is uncovered.
As soon as he finished the article, Beck immediately pelted her with questions about the legend and its principal stars.
She was grateful for his interest and their ensuing discussion while she maneuvered the harrowing interstate traffic on the way to the airport. Their conversation took her mind off their parting for a few extra seconds. The thought of Beck leaving, even for less than twenty-four hours, settled over her like a heavy cloud. She rationalized her distress was because their time was growing short. Shorter than he could possibly know.
That morning, she’d gotten a call while he was in the shower. Her replacement would be on board Monday. She’d spend the day with him to get him up to speed, and then she’d be off the project. Finished and ready to leave for Arkansas.
She hadn’t the heart to tell Beck about the call. Her disappointment at leaving, even though she wanted to go, was enough for her to bear until this family business was settled. His disappointment at her news would make the tension between them unbearable. Maybe she’d tell him before they headed home. Or maybe not. Perhaps she’d put off telling him until the very last moment when she was ready to leave.
She eased into a parking spot at the airport. As if they were of one mind, they turned to each other and exchanged a kiss as deep as any they’d shared in their most intimate moments.
Beck drew back first and cupped her face in his hands. “I have your parents’ phone number in my wallet in case I can’t reach you on your cell. I’ll be in touch.” He touched his lips to hers again, this time in a sweet, tender kiss. “Be careful,” he whispered.
She promised him she would be careful and that she’d be expecting his call, as well as expecting to see him the next evening. Her mind was raced ahead to tomorrow night as she left the airport and entered the freeway.
The anxiety of what lay ahead didn’t take the uppermost place in her mind until she pulled into the drive at the big house on Sweetwater Branch Road.
Soon, she would face her mother, and tomorrow morning, Bill.
She gripped the wheel, not sure which meeting she dreaded most.
Chapter Eighteen
Alex wasn’t prepared for the woman who greeted her Saturday morning at the front door of the house she had called home for most of her life. Barely six months had passed since she’d seen her mother and the change in Ida Kingsley’s physical appearance caught Alex by surprise. Always well groomed, the woman who stood before her was a ghost of the woman in whose shadow Alex walked since she had taken her first unsteady steps.
Dark shadows circled her mother’s eyes, and the tiny lines concealed for all of her life, until now, looked as if they had been painted on with a fine artist’s brush. Similar lines radiated from the corners of Ida Kingsley’s mouth, accentuated by the bright red slash of lipstick that was meant to define only the lips but had so obviously missed their mark.
A red silk sheath Alex recognized as one her mother purchased years ago, and had never worn because it tugged slightly at her still-slim hips, now hung over a torso that was a dozen pounds past lean.
Alex set down her suitcase. “Mother.”
“Alexandra.”
The smell of gin almost made Alex gag when she finally regained enough composure to embrace her mother.
The older woman broke the physical contact quickly and, in her usual style of absolute control, preceded Alex down the hall to the informal living room at the back of the house.
Immediately upon entering the room, Ida made her way to the back of the bar. “I hope you don’t mind, dear.” She proceeded to retrieve ice cubes from a silver bucket and drop them into a crystal glass. She splashed a generous shot of gin into the glass and took a deep swallow.
Mind? Alex had never been a gin drinker, even when she drank practically anything she could get her hands on. Still, aside from the fact her mother smelled like a gin factory, the fact that she so flagrantly displayed such abuse of alcohol in front of her, hurt.
Beck’s overall sensitivity to her problem gave Alex a warm feeling inside. Thinking about him, though, only brought home even sharper the fact that she would soon leave and no longer have him around.
Her mood dipped lower, and she forced herself to concentrate on what her mother said so she didn’t have to dwell on Beck and his absence.
“I had Anna Louise buy a case of cola.” Her mother took a can from the refrigerator under the bar. She opened the can and handed it to Alex. “For the life of me, I still can’t see why you persist in drinking out of the can. Not using a glass is so lacking in class.”
Alex took the can of cola and the napkin from her mother and bit back the comment on the tip of her tongue. Her mother was a snob, and Alex was certain she would never change. Besides, she wasn’t here to argue about her social graces or her lack thereof, but to offer whatever her mother expected in her role of concerned daughter.
Ida seated herself in the navy velvet wing chair that had become her throne.
Today, however, she looked anything but regal. Alex took the smaller blue and maroon damask club chair across from her mother. She set the can and the napkin on top of the marble-top coffee table that occupied the space between them.
“I want to thank you for coming so promptly, Alexandra.”
Alex sigh
ed inwardly. When would she ever stop feeling like a little girl who was privileged just to be in her mother’s presence?
Her mother placed her drink on the table with a shaky hand. “Did your friend get to the airport okay?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been seeing him long?”
Alex’s stomach knotted. “I’m not exactly seeing him, Mother. In fact, I doubt I’ll see him at all for the rest of the summer since I’ll be in Arkansas.”
“Oh yes, Arkansas.” Her mother’s voice trailed off. “Whatever. He’s obviously still enough of a friend that you drove here together. What does he do, dear?”
Oh, God, she wished her mother would, just once, let down her damned defenses and talk to her like a mother instead of an inquisitor. “He’s a businessman, Mother. He builds shopping malls.”
“Oh. Is he very successful?”
Translated: Is he very rich? She didn’t want to play this game. Not today. She reached for the cola and took a sip she didn’t really want. “I suppose so. I don’t know him well enough to ask about his portfolio.”
Her mother’s head jerked back at the retort.
“I only meant….”
“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m a little tired, and I’m worried about you. You don’t look well.” The hand that reached for the remaining gin shook enough her mother had to know Alex noticed. For a second, Alex thought her mother was about to burst into tears. But only for a second.
In the next instant, she squared her shoulders and looked directly at Alex. “I want you to talk to your father. He needs someone he trusts to talk some sense into him.”
Frowning, Alex leaned forward. “Just what is going on between the two of you? Has he actually said he wants a divorce, or is that something you believe?”
“He told me that’s what he wanted in just so many words.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I won’t give him one of course. He’ll get over this. But in the meantime, I won’t let him do anything that will keep us from facing our friends when he finally comes to his senses.”
Ah. So, that’s why she was determined to hold the marriage together. Saving face with her friends was the most important thing. “Well, can you tell me what brought this on? Did something out of the ordinary happen?” Her mother’s hand trembled so badly the remaining ice in the glass tinkled like delicate wind chimes.
“The only thing out of the ordinary, Alexandra, is that this time he actually mentioned divorce. But that’s enough, wouldn’t you think?” She was on her feet before the sentence ended and walked unsteadily toward the bar.
Alex wanted to shout that she was drinking way too much. That just because her drinking had not yet taken any lives didn’t mean she wasn’t in trouble. She was just as much of an alcoholic as Alex had been—was—would always be— as long as she was alive and one bottle of liquor remained in the world.
Certain her mother wasn’t telling her the full story, she pressed for more information. “Mother, is there more you need to tell me?” The question was direct and personal. But hell, her mother had called her here because she said she needed to talk. Didn’t the fact she’d given up valuable time to come here give her the right to know the real reason she’d been summoned?
Ida spun, sloshing some of the gin from the nearly full glass onto the front of her dress. The small circle quickly spread into a large, crimson stain. She picked up a napkin from the bar and patted the damp circle. She started back in Alex’s direction but stopped mid-way. “Surely, Alexandra, you must know of your father’s indiscretions. They’ve gone on for most of your life. You can’t possibly be that naïve.”
A buzzing started in Alex’s ears, a sound from childhood she’d conjured and mastered to drown out the harsh words that sprang up between her parents from time to time. The arguments weren’t daily occurrences. But they happened often enough she’d become attuned to the early signs of their arrival. Back then she always had enough time to summon the magic that shut out the ugly sounds. This time she couldn’t do that. This time, she had no warning. “What are you saying? Are you telling me that Daddy…?” She couldn’t finish.
“I am telling you, Alexandra, what you should have known your entire adult life. Your father has always had a mistress. Only this one has lasted for more than twenty years.” After a hard swallow, she continued. “I refuse to let him destroy the rest of my life because he thinks he wants to be with her forever.”
Alex gripped the arms of the chair. She heard no buzzing now. Just the sound of blood pounding in her ears that could not drown out her mother’s voice.
“I thought you understood I was speaking from wisdom born of experience when I tried to tell you, Alexandra, you could have gotten through the bad times with Bill if you had only listened and controlled your drinking. Had you forgiven him his little transgressions and been the kind of wife he needed when he came home from his phony business trips, your marriage could have survived.”
This nightmare could not be real. Somehow, she was trapped in a bad dream. Any moment now, she would awaken back in the cabin with Beck stretched out on the living room sofa, the team slowly rising from sleep, readying themselves for another day in the field.
But the dream went on and became the nightmare she had buried for over twenty years. She was sixteen and home unexpectedly for a weekend visit while her mother was in New York with friends on a shopping spree. She entered her father’s office quietly that Saturday morning, certain she’d surprise him and when his work was finished, they’d go out to lunch, just the two of them.
She was unprepared for what she saw.
Her father and Polly, his secretary, were naked on the leather sofa in the small private office that connected to the larger office where he conducted his daily business.
Mesmerized, she watched, sick to her stomach, and wanting to die right on the spot as her beloved father plunged in and out between those young, shapely legs wrapped around his bare behind.
She retched, catching the sound in her palms so they wouldn’t hear. As if they would have, between their moans and shouts of pleasure that still rang in her ears. Now, she remembered, all too well, the reckless way she drove in her rush to get home. How she ran into the house straight to the bar, grabbed a full bottle of Scotch no one would miss, and took it up to her room. How she took one swallow after another until she was sick. And then drank more until she passed out.
And that night, no one had even noticed anything was wrong with her.
How had she managed all these years to convince herself what she witnessed that day was just an isolated incident? Just a fall from grace by a man who really wasn’t the god on a pedestal she had made him out to be? If her mother told the truth, then she was right. Alex had been naïve. Worse than naïve. She had been a fool. The worse kind of fool.
She sank lower into the deep pile of the chair as if the weight of her mother’s admission physically pressed her down. Her question was one of the hardest things she had ever done in her life, but she had to know. “Are you telling me, Mother, Daddy has been having affairs all of your married life, and you’ve just turned your back on them?” Her usual, in-complete-command mother suddenly had no words.
She merely nodded, and with that silent admission, the tears she had kept in check flowed copiously down her gaunt, but highly rouged, cheeks.
Alex was suddenly struck with compassion. “Why, Mother? Why, for God’s sake, did you put up with this situation all these years?” Why, she wanted to scream, did you think so little of yourself you agreed to be nothing more than a paid social butterfly?
“Why?” Ida again stumbled over to the bar. “Why?” She sloshed more gin into the almost-empty glass. “Why do you think? Because I loved him. And because I loved him, I watched my weight, made sure I was always meticulously groomed, made sure we were always seen at the best restaurants, and invited to the most prominent social affairs. I wanted him to get ahead, that’s why. To get everything he deserved. To get everything we both deser
ved.”
“And that was important enough that you ignored what was going on?”
Ida straightened her shoulders. “No, Alexandra. I didn’t ignore it. Your father knew very well I was aware of everything. We just never discussed it. We just kept things to ourselves. We were happy. Until now.”
“Happy? How could either of you be happy knowing he was betraying you? Knowing you betrayed what you promised to each other?” The knot tightened in her throat. “And you wanted me to be like you and ignore what Bill was doing?”
Her mother came to stand before her. “Alexandra, you are very naïve. Few people can be depended on in life to stand by you forever. That’s why money, social position, and a sterling reputation are priceless—worth more than anything. Even love.” She flopped back down in the wingback chair, her hand hanging over the side. The half-filled glass dribbled the remainder of its contents on the navy Turkish carpet.
Alex stood and clutched herself around the middle. “So, you’re telling me you stayed all these years for money, for social position, and for things?”
I took that first drink twenty years ago to dull a pain you never really felt?
Even now, Alex couldn’t blame her drinking or any of her other problems on her mother, or her father, or even on Bill. If she had learned nothing else in these past five years, she learned she alone was to blame for her problems. She couldn’t hold anyone but herself responsible for her drinking. But she could hold them responsible for living a lie. A lie that her mother now wanted her daughter to convince her father should continue.
She looked over at her mother, so frail and vulnerable in the big chair, looking like Jonah in the whale’s belly. Her heart ached. She was overwhelmed with pity—pity for her mother, pity for her father, and even a certain amount of pity for herself. “Mother?” Alex waited for her mother to look her way. “I’m going upstairs. I think you had better stop drinking before you seriously injure yourself. Then, perhaps you’d better make some hard decisions about what you plan to do with the rest of your life.” She could almost feel her mother’s disbelieving stare follow her out of the room. Never before had she refused to do her mother’s bidding—except where Bill was concerned.
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