As Della walked around the car, Lillian’s heart skipped a beat. She let the curtain fall back into place, her mind flooded with confusing thoughts. Part of her wanted to see her daughter, part of her didn’t. They were strange feelings for a mother to have, but that’s how she survived. Della had always hated the drinking, the cigarettes, the men. Then Della started following in her footsteps, scaring the hell out of Lillian. Della’s future depended on her getting out in time, because Lillian wasn’t about to change.
She walked slowly up to the porch. She had matured into a beautiful woman, all fancied up in a high-priced dress–no more thrift clothes for her. The long auburn hair was now short and strawberry blonde; styled by someone expensive, she could tell. The girl was thinner than she’d ever seen her, but not too thin, like Lillian’s friends accused her of being.
Della walked hesitantly, looking from left to right, as if she were keeping an eye out for someone. Her heels clicked up the front steps and across the wooden porch. She paused before knocking.
Lillian glanced at herself in the mirror next to the door, and placed a palm on her chest to control her thumping heart. She wanted to run to her bedroom, hide in the closet, like she did when salesman pounded on her door, and wait until Della left. Sweat beaded on her brow. She ran her fingers through her stringy gray hair; in the mirror, she noted her wrinkled, soiled clothes, but when anyone came to her house without warning, they got what they deserved.
She yanked the door open and before she had a chance to scold Della for not calling, she burst into tears and they fell into each other’s arms.
“Ma,” Della sobbed, and rubbed Lillian’s bony shoulders.
“Oh, geez.” Lillian pulled back. “I thought I told you not to come back here.”
Della stood there, looking helpless, like a lost child. Lillian’s determination dissolved like snow in the rain. “Let me look at you, girl. My, my, my. You’re a beautiful young woman. You did the right thing, going out on your own.”
Della stood stock-still, speechless.
“Come on, child.” She took Della’s hand and led her to the couch. They sat, hands folded on their laps. She didn’t know what to say.
Della broke the silence. “Everything looks the same as I remember it, except you, Ma.”
“Ditto, girl.” They sat side by side on the frayed couch, gripping each other’s hands, staring at each other, eyes still misting.
“You should have called. I’d have been more presentable.” She shrugged off her excuses. “You look fine, girl. You’re doing well, I see.”
“Financially, yes; emotionally, no.”
Nervous, not knowing how to handle herself, Lillian popped up and said, “Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be nice.” She followed her mother to the kitchen.
From the corner of her eye, she watched Della run her fingers over the tattered plastic tablecloth. Just having her here in the house, in the same room with her, was so breathtaking she didn’t know what to say or do. She didn’t know if she was happy or mad. She was just plain confused. She’d prepared herself to never see her kid again. All she’d ever wanted was for Della to be happy, to never acknowledge her past.
“You’ve always had a red checkered plastic tablecloth.” Della pulled out a chair and sat. “I’m nervous. It’s been so long. I’ve meant to call so many times.”
Lillian spun around. “You weren’t supposed to. Have you forgotten our parting?” She had been drinking heavily that day when Della came home from school with her diploma in hand. She knew she had to get her out of here, if she were to ever make it on her own. She had made the right decision. Della overcame the odds. Her clothes, the flashy car, her total look was everything Lillian ever dreamed of for her.
Forcing out a harsh tone, she said, “You aren’t a prostitute, are you?”
Her eyes widened. “No, of course not.”
“Why did you come back?”
She sat in silence, staring into space, big tears bubbling up in her eyes.
“Stop that. You want to break my heart?” She pulled up a chair, sat, and took her daughter’s hand. “I never wanted you to have this life.”
“I may have a job and some money, but I do have this life.” She gazed into Lillian’s eyes. “I’ve just learned you always take yourself wherever you go.”
Lillian tilted her chin. “All I see sitting in front of me is a beautiful, successful young woman.”
“Where men are concerned, I’m just like you, Ma. I’ve been married twice and as of next week, I’ll be divorced twice. My second one will be an annulment, but a divorce nonetheless.” She rose. “Not a good track record for my twenty-six years.”
“Didn’t you learn anything from me? Failing with men isn’t an exclusive Garland trait, you know.” She let go of Della’s hand, went for the coffee. “Happens every day to many, many women. I never met the right man. They all wanted something other than to make me happy.” She poured, sat and toyed with her cup. “Maybe old Eddie came close, but we didn’t have time to find out for sure.”
“Who’s Eddie?”
“He was here for about four years. Even said he wanted to marry me. He died last year, left me a little nest egg.” She leaned back in her seat. “I might have married him, too.”
Della rested her elbows on the table, her chin in her palms. “Why don’t you move into a better place, closer to me?” She glanced around. “This dump looks like it’ll fall down any moment.”
They laughed.
“Does, doesn’t it?” she said. “But I like this dump. I’ve lived here for thirty-five years. I own it outright. That’s a hell of a lot more than most folks can say.” She poured brandy into her coffee.
“Still taking your cough medicine, I see.”
“Yup. Always will. Forget about those jerks you divorced. Tell me about your job. Looks like you’re doin’ okay?”
“I am. I work for Gates International.”
The Gates name sent a jolt through Lillian. He had found her.
“Wes Gates has made me his project.”
“The Wes Gates?”
“You know who he is?”
Obviously, Della didn’t. “I’ve heard of him. He’s not exactly an unknown person. I watch CNN. His company is always being mentioned on the business news.”
“You watch CNN?”
“Why not? That’s where I learn everything I need to know.”
“Wes Gates is my boss. He found me at Globe Travel, where I used to work. When I lost my job, he gave me a better one. He has plans for my future.”
“You look pretty spiffy to me right now.”
“I’m even going to go back to school nights and weekends to get my degree.”
Lillian wondered why Wes hadn’t told her who he was. The son of a bitch was probably ashamed to tell her, since he was the one who’d wanted her aborted, and he was married at the time. Lillian had told Della her father was too young to settle down, he couldn’t handle the responsibility. What a lie. Della wouldn’t suspect anything. Far be it for her to ruin the girl’s life. At least, he was making an effort to do something good for her. This was one little secret that was hers.
“Have you told him about me?” Lillian held her breath.
She lowered her gaze. “No. I lied. I told him my father died in the line of duty.” She chuckled. “I said he was a cop. I told him my mother was in Europe, living on the insurance.”
Lillian slapped her thigh and hooted with laughter. “Goddamn, girl. You’re a chip off the old block! I can’t believe you. But, hey, you did right. They’re all a bunch of phonies over there in the Hills.”
Wes knew Della lied about her past. He was protecting her. Della had to get back into her own world. This was no place for her. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t spoil your little game.”
“I’m not ashamed of you. I’d be proud to tell everyone.” She straightened. “As a matter of fact, wanting you back in my life is one of the reasons
I came home.”
When she said home, Lillian felt a warm glow flood through her.
“I don’t want to live a lie anymore. I’m through.”
Lillian rose, her back up. “Don’t ever tell the truth! They’ll run you down if you do. And I don’t want any part of that bunch. You leave me out of their lives.” She was sure Wes depended on her staying a secret. Coming out might cause a clinker in his charmed life.
She walked over to the kitchen window and stared out at her weed-ridden back yard. She had to get Della out of here, make sure she stayed out. As much as she wanted to be there for her, she wasn’t about to start playing mama now. She turned around. “Now, you’d best be on your way. Go back where you belong and get on with your life.”
“You’re brushing me off, Ma. I have problems you can help me with.”
“I can’t help you with any of your problems. I can’t even help myself.” Each word stabbed her in the heart. “Don’t you come crawling back here all the time, now. I have a life, and I like things the way they are. You hang around here and they’ll find out, count on it.”
“What did I say? Why are you upset? Who’ll find out?”
“I’m not upset. I know what’s good for you, and I ain’t it. I know you’re upset about your marriages, but all I can tell you is, don’t let men get too close. Look out for yourself. You have to learn that men are playthings. Lord knows, we are to them.” She pulled Della up by the arm from her chair. “Now, you do as I say. Go back and make your ma proud of you.” She hustled her to the door. “Unless you want to blow your cover, you better stay away. I’m doin’ good, girl. So don’t you worry.”
Before she could speak, Lillian gave her a kiss on the cheek and hustled her out. She collapsed against the closed door and bit back tears. “Wes Gates, do right by our daughter. If you don’t, I’ll personally make sure you pay, and it’ll be a helluva lot more than that paltry ten thousand dollars.”
She glanced around her ramshackle house. The girl was right, the place was a dump. She had better sell out and move–for Della’s sake.
* * *
Della drove away in silence. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. The bitch had thrown her out again. She should have known better than to come back and try to reopen the door. Lillian had never done anything but hurt her. She banged her fist on the steering wheel. She loved her mother, damn it, and whether Lillian liked it or not, she was going to be a part of her life.
She just wanted to go to her own apartment, call Wes and Carrie and tell them she’d be fine at home. The night she dumped Rick, Wes came by and picked her up, plunked her down in their castle, and coddled her for six days. Carrie took her to Jon Clarin’s and picked out a new wardrobe, then they went on to Carrie’s salon for a makeover. Through all the changes, the pain of finding out what a scoundrel Rick was had hardly diminished. A lawyer was handling the annulment, and Wes put the police onto Rick. Monday, she would go back to work, hopefully to dig into her job.
After she parked Wes’s Mercedes in front of her apartment, she made a mental note to call him and tell him she’d bring the car back tomorrow and pick up her Escort. She trudged up the stairs, trying to rid herself of the ominous feeling hanging over her.
She slid the key in the lock and opened the front door. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover her gasp. Her apartment had been cleaned out. The expensive prints, the Depression Glass Kent’s mother had given her, the treasures she had worked so hard for were gone. She ran to the bedroom where she had stashed her emergency fund, over two thousand dollars. Cash she saved for a rainy day. All gone. Even the small pieces of jewelry she’d managed to buy, including her diamond rings--the one Kent had bought her, and Rick’s engagement ring–were gone. She rubbed the goose flesh on her arms.
She stood rooted to the floor in a state of shock. Someone had been in her home, rummaged through her things, taken her most prized possessions. She felt violated.
In the living room, she spotted a note pinned to the door.
Della,
I don't want you involved in all of this. I took the stuff.
I needed something to start over. Some day, I’ll pay you back.
Rick
“You son of a bitch! Is this why you married me?”
She rushed to the phone and called Wes, her voice shrill with panic. “Rick’s been in my apartment. He took everything worth anything. God, I can’t believe this! He’s crazy. He’s cleaned me out.”
“Don’t move. Call the police. I’ll be right over.”
Overwhelmed by the magnitude of Rick waltzing in and stealing every valuable personal possession she owned, Della sank down on the couch and stared off into space–alone, heartbroken, bewildered. To think she had loved him, trusted him with a key, married him. Why did he do this to her?
“Damn you, Rick! You'll be the last man who ever takes advantage of me.”
10
Four years later....
Steven Gates’s plane ran fifteen minutes late at LAX. Los Angeles was the last place he wanted to be, under his mother’s thumb, working for his father.
Steven had found his niche working as a public defender in New York City. His overbearing mother wouldn’t suck him back into her world. She expected him to come home for good. But he had sublet his apartment, taken a leave of absence from work, and planned to hightail it back to New York within three months. Surely, after he allayed his mother’s fears, which all stemmed from Della Garland, Carrie would forgive his leaving again.
According to Carrie, Della Garland now worked side by side with Wes and was destined to run the company when Wes could no longer take care of business. His health was failing, and Carrie convinced Steven if didn’t come home, they’d eventually lose all control. He had never shown any interest in the family business, yet she had ditched her own family for a singing career. She didn’t get it.
The bell sounded, alerting passengers to buckle up. He closed his eyes and tried to picture the woman who had so much power over his strong-willed, unflappable mother. She must be a looker. For the past five years, by phone or by mail, all he heard was Della Garland this, Della Garland that. If his father had two worthy vice presidents chomping at his heels, why was he thinking of turning the company over to a relatively new associate, and a woman to boot? Steven was aware his mother did her best to keep women, at least attractive women, away from his father. Steven had never met Della, missed her each time he’d been home, but if his father was so impressed with her talent, so be it. His the old man would never give away the company he spent his life building. Carrie’s had her share in the bag, no matter what.
The flight attendant came by and took his empty glass, acknowledged with a smile that he had buckled up. The flaps lowered, the engines slowed, the plane nosed downward. He thought of home, that big ostentatious house, the servants, all the trappings he didn’t need. Already, he yearned for his own job and his simple life.
Entering the terminal, Steven looked around for his mother. Then he heard her familiar trill through the crowd. When she emerged, he was stunned. Though perfectly coiffed, made up and dressed, his beautiful slim mother had ballooned at least thirty pounds since he last saw her. Shocked, he wondered if her longtime trainer croaked?
She hugged and kissed him as if she hadn’t seen him in years. “Thank God, you’re here. I need you now more than ever.” The pleading in her voice sent a wave of panic rattling through him. She stepped back. “I look a mess, don’t I? Stress!”
Of all the people he knew, his mother was the last one he’d expected to let herself go. She’d been fanatic about her appearance. Her world must be upside down.
She took his hand and led him through the terminal, literally dragging him to the baggage claim area.
“I don’t have any bags, Mom.”
She came to an abrupt stop. “What do you mean, no bags? You can’t be moving home with no bags. You’re up to something, Mister.”
“I have plenty to wear at ho
me. If I decide to stay, I’ll send for my stuff.”
“If you decide to stay?” she said incredulously. “Of course, you’re staying. I need you here. So does your father. Don’t scare me, Steven.”
Outside in the blinding sunlight, Gus, the family chauffeur, stood at attention next to the limousine directly in front of the United terminal entrance. Steven chuckled to himself. The old fart had probably paid someone off for his parking space. Gus shook Steven’s hand and opened the door, allowing Steven and his mother to get in. The luxurious interior of the car was cool, with a familiar comfort that gave Steven a start. All he’d thought about the past several hours was how much he liked his austerity.
Carrie grabbed his arm, gazed into his eyes with a fierce, intense glare. “She’s going to take over.”
“Calm down, Mom,” Steven said softly.
She pushed a button and closed the window to shut Gus out of their conversation. “Della Garland has suckered in your father. I’m telling you, she’s taking over.”
“Mother, that’s preposterous! Dad couldn’t be suckered in by anyone. You’ve been writing and calling me for the past five years about this woman. I can’t believe you’re so upset about her.”
“I’m telling you, Steven, if she succeeds, she’ll be running the damn company. You and I will be out.”
“So, Dad’s just giving it all away, huh?”
“He’s not well. His health is failing.” She shook her head, disgusted. “You should be at the helm, but no, you want to be a do-gooder lawyer who won’t make squat for a living.” She drew her palm up to her forehead in disbelief. “This isn’t happening.”
“You didn’t say he was feeling so poorly.”
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