by C. S. Lakin
“He should be thrown off the bench just for that,” Della added.
“I imagine she’ll disown you. At very least, she’ll be terribly disappointed in you, Dick, regardless of how much she hates Millie,” Lila said.
For the first time that evening, Dick was speechless. His mouth hung open as he gasped for breath. He dropped back down on the bench.
Millie felt her voice grow hoarse. “I can’t believe that on top of all this, you’ve stashed away money and spent it on this . . . Penny. While our own children barely have enough for their needs. Their braces, their lessons, their clothes. What about the college fund we were going to set up for them? You kept saying we had no money for that.”
Lila waggled a finger in Millie’s direction. “You tell him, Mil.”
“Break out the violins,” Jonathan added.
“Off the bench, Ferrol,” Davis said.
Cynthia punched Davis in the arm. “Davis, don’t be so mean.”
“I’m not getting off unless Millie gets off.”
“Get off, Dick,” Della said.
“Yeah, get off Dick,” Jonathan said, clapping his hands in cadence.
Davis joined in the clapping. “Let’s vote.”
Millie, her face red with anger, pounded in beat on the bench. “Yes, vote.”
Della’s hand shot up. “I vote Ferrol off and into the mouths of the wolves.” Other hands shot up, but Cynthia and Peter remained still.
Lila grabbed Dick by the arm and pulled him to standing. “I think we’ve heard enough.”
Jonathan chuckled. “Happy eating, wolves.” He howled.
Dick, flustered and enraged, turned his back on them, then hurried over to the buffet table and grabbed a beer. He pressed into a corner and popped the can open.
Millie sensed a nervous shifting on the benches. She stared into the flickering candlelight. How could this have happened? How could she have been so blind? A great surge of fear overcame her. Were all these things true? Was Dick guilty of serious crimes? What was going to happen when they returned home? And, how could she sleep in the same bed with that lying, heartless man ever again?
“Well, that was easy,” said Lila. “Nominations are in order. Who’s next?”
Chapter 18
Lila scanned the faces, finally resting her eyes on Jonathan. “I’m sure you and Della have a lot to say about each other.”
“You’re not going to goad me into this, Lila,” Della said. “I’m sick of talking about Mr. Hotshot Director. Even the negative attention strokes his ego. If you want me off the bench, I’ll make it real easy for you. I admit I’ve wasted my life. I’m taking up space. I don’t think anyone will feel an urge to come to my defense.”
“That’s for sure,” Jonathan said.
“I’ll defend you,” said Millie. “I think you’re a lot more decent than some of the others in this room. Why should Della be voted unworthy just because she’s not rich . . . or a star . . . or successful? What about having a good heart? Doesn’t that count for something?”
Jonathan laughed. “Oh, spare me, Millie. A good heart? In college, Della treated you like crap. You were nothing to her. Why are you so eager to protect her?”
“I’m not protecting her. And who cares how she treated me fifteen years ago? I’m trying to make a point.”
“I agree,” said Cynthia. “Della’s made some mistakes in her life, but mistakes are different than deliberate sins.”
“You two are pathetic,” Lila said. “You’re supposed to be fighting for your lives here, not have a classroom discussion on morality. The wolves are gaining.”
“Lila, why don’t you take your game and shove it,” Della said.
Lila chuckled. “That’s more like it.”
“I say we dump the hostess,” Della added. “What reason should you stay on the bench? So what if you have success and wealth and fame? You’re hostile, rude and . . . sick to enjoy watching everyone suffer.”
“And don’t forget she’s a frigging spy,” Dick said.
Lila took a bow. “Ah, the truth has finally come out. You’re going to have to do better than that, though, to throw me off.”
“Well, Dick’s right. What about nosing into everyone’s personal business? What gives you the right to do that?” Davis asked.
“Oh, nothing evil about a little curiosity.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,”
“Hey, Ferrol, you’re dead!” Lila snapped. “Remember—frozen on the Steppes.”
“Yeah, but my memory lingers on.”
“We’re getting nowhere, gang,” Lila said. “Okay Della, if you’re going to go, let’s put you out in style. Now, for the moment, let’s forget about the little games in college—the way you deceived Davis to get into Jon’s pants. We already said sex was out. And that was petty, anyway. What wasn’t petty, though, was persuading your aunt to go broke in order to send you to college.”
“She offered.”
“You could have worked your way through, but you were lazy.”
“I did work—every summer. I saved what I could. And I tried for a scholarship and that fell through.”
“You ever pay your aunt back? Or thank her?”
Della put a hand on her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’d pay her back if I could, but you know I don’t have the money. I’ve never been able to get far enough ahead.” Why was she bothering to defend herself? Lila was right—she had treated her aunt badly.
“Isn’t it true your aunt doesn’t speak to you anymore? She calls you ‘the ungrateful niece.’ ”
Della’s mind wandered to her aunt Evvie. Sweet, trusting Aunt Evvie. When her mother wouldn’t believe her about the beatings her stepfather gave her, Aunt Evvie did. She knew what a bastard he was. Her aunt agreed she had to get away. And how have I repaid her? I never even call her. Tears pooled in her eyes. How could she tell her aunt how she screwed up all her chances? It would break Evvie’s heart.
“In fact, your brother and his wife don’t speak to you either. You botched things up there, too. That was a nasty piece of business, locking your poor little niece and nephew out in the snow to freeze their little buns off. No wonder Edward threw you out.”
Della gasped. “That’s not what happened.”
Lila went on. “Our Della makes a career out of finding one sucker after another to take her in. She pulls her ‘poor little waif’ act and, voila, another place to freeload.”
“You got that right,” Jonathan said. “She’s a one-woman soap opera. ‘Other Peoples’ Lives.’ ”
Lila ignored Jonathan. “But while Della was in New York she did try to get some help. Some very special help. From a special friend of mine.”
“Who?” Della asked. “I don’t know any friend of yours.”
“But you do, dear. Why, Daniel, Daniel Bradford.”
A horrible feeling clenched Della’s stomach and traveled up to her throat. She breathed hard, struggling for air like a swimmer trying to surface from deep waters. “My Daniel?”
“Well, he was ‘yours’ for a while; I guess you could say that.”
“You know him?”
“Why, yes, Della,” Lila said. “We’re very close. In fact, he would do just about anything for me.”
“I don’t get this . . .”
“Della, my, but you’re awfully slow tonight.”
“Who’s Daniel?” Davis asked.
“Well, he’s an actor who had a little fun at Della’s expense.”
“What?” Della grabbed her throat. The room spun.
“Let’s just say,” Lila said, looking at Davis, “that he was a little short of cash. So I gave him a job.”
“You hired him to be my shrink?”
“No, Della,” Lila said. “I hired him to be your lover.”
“No. He loved me!”
“He always was a damned good actor. Did I mention that we originally met in an acting workshop? You should see his Hamlet. He had such fun putting subliminal m
essages into your relaxation tapes.”
Della stood and steadied herself. “Why, you—I don’t believe this for a minute.”
Lila shrugged. “Give him a call when you go home, wherever that is. By the way, he took your precious cat to the pound.”
Della felt a stab of pain through her heart. “Princess . . . not my Princess . . .”
Jonathan howled and threw back his head. “Hah—another one of your stinking cats!”
Della glared at Jonathan, then lunged over the bench for his throat. He laughed even harder, pulling her hands down.
“You bastard! My cat is worth more than you, you piece of filth!”
Jonathan’s words came sandwiched between hysterical gasps. “Why attack me? Lila’s the one who set you up.”
Millie spoke over the melee. “I vote Lila off the bench. For doing such a rotten thing to Della.”
Lila laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face. “Just wait, it gets worse. Let’s finish Della off, then you can come after me.”
“Haven’t you said enough?” Cynthia asked.
Lila ignored her and reached for the bottle on the floor. “Let’s see—Della’s list of unworthy accomplishments continues: After college, she floundered from one bed to another, one job to another, making sure nothing would work out so she could feel sorry for her poor self. But, we all remember Della in college—Della the beautiful, Della the ambitious, Della the most-likely-to-succeed. What set her on this downward spiral?” Lila glared at her captive audience. “Did you ever tell Davis about the abortion?”
“I know about it,” Davis said. Della stared at him, puzzled. She had never told anyone about that.
“Did you know the child was yours? We all know it couldn’t have been Jon’s—he couldn’t keep it up, isn’t that what you told us, Della?”
Jonathan pursed his lips together, obviously resisting the urge to snap back.
Davis continued. “Hey, when she left me for Jon, it was none of my concern. She never came to me about it.”
Cynthia gaped at Davis, but he didn’t notice her look of chagrin.
Lila waved the half-empty scotch bottle in the air. “So, poor Catholic, guilt-ridden Della had an abortion. And to punish herself even more, she got pregnant again. And again. And each time, she desperately wanted a child, and each time she chickened out, choosing murder over responsibility.”
Della groaned, then her body convulsed into racking sobs. “No, please, no . . . please . . .”
Cynthia jumped up from the bench. “That’s it! I’ve had enough. This is hateful. You’re all hateful. I say we vote to end this game. Who wants out—raise your hand.” Cynthia held her hand high.
Millie’s hand shot up. “I agree.”
“No way,” said Dick, pouring another drink. “If I had to take it, then you all have to take it.”
Lila clicked her tongue. “You end the game, no one gets the prize.”
“Screw the prize, Li,” Davis said. “I vote with Cynthia.”
“Jonny?”
“I say we keep going.”
“Peter?” Lila shot him a look that meant his job was on the line.
He sighed. “I’m in.”
“Well, Della, it looks like you’re the determining vote,” Lila said.
“Della, come on,” Cynthia urged, “look what she’s done to you. Don’t let her go on with this.”
Della’s crying lessened into tiny moans. She looked up, eyes red and swollen. Let them throw me to the wolves. But not before Jonathan and Lila get what’s coming to them. She would make them pay for what they did to her.
“No, let’s keep playing. If I’m going down, you’re all going with me.”
Lila laughed. “That’s the spirit. Now here’s a person who can take her medicine. Della, I’m surprised you have it in you.”
“Let’s get on with it then. I vote Della off the bench,” Jonathan said.
“I vote she stays on,” Cynthia countered.
Jonathan groaned. “You’d vote to save everyone. Let’s keep the game moving.”
“Yes, let’s discard people like they were trash,” Cynthia said.
Davis stroked her arm. “It’s just a game, darling.”
Cynthia knocked his hand away. “A hurtful game.”
“Sometimes the truth hurts,” Lila said. “But, isn’t it good to know what people are really made of? My dear, young Cynthia, it’s time you had your eyes opened. This is the way the world really is. Killers and victims.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see it that way. I never will.”
“A pity. Look at all the excitement you’ll miss by keeping your blinders on.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.”
“No,” said Lila, matching her tone, “I suppose you don’t. You have your strong, protective fiancé to shelter you from all the pain and evil in the world.”
“I can take care of myself. I’m not hiding in his shadow. Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I’m helpless. I see pain and evil all the time, working with the organizations I chair.”
“Yeah, you see it from your lofty height.” Lila said. “From your hillside home high above the wheat and chaff below, where you think about other people’s suffering.”
“So, I have money. So do you. But I appreciate the position I have; I don’t take it for granted. I don’t build ostentatious homes and buy extravagant jewelry to flash around. I use my money to help others.”
“Time for some more violins,” said Jonathan.
“Cynthia’s a good kid. You guys aren’t going to be able to pin anything on her,” Davis said, trying to reach for her again. And again, she avoided his touch.
“I’m not a kid.”
“Easy, darling. It’s just an expression.”
“And I don’t like it.”
“Are we going to finish Della off, or what?” Jonathan wriggled impatiently. Della fished the last menthol cigarette out of the pack and lit it. She crumbled the empty package and threw it at Jonathan’s face.
“If I’m going down, then you’re going with me, Levin.”
“Try it.”
Lila interrupted them. “I’ll sum up. Take all the abortions, the pills, the booze and cigarettes, the lateness, irresponsibility, using people and throw those in with what she did to me in college and I’d say there’s enough evidence to sink the Titanic. I vote Della off.”
“What did I ever do to you?” Della asked.
“Why, Della, have you forgotten your conspiracy against me? I certainly haven’t forgotten it.”
“We never conspired against you. The school put pressure on us to pick an outsider and you were the best qualified. You always memorized every part in every play we ever did. You were a natural.”
“Oh pul-eeze, Della. I’m not talking about that little joke. I’m talking about the other set-up. The one with Davis.”
Della’s vision faded. Dizziness overcame her, and she felt herself slip off the bench and onto the floor.
“Hey, no fair. I was just getting to the good part,” Lila said, feigning disappointment.
“Lila, how can you joke about this? She’s fainted! Get out of the way!” Cynthia knelt beside Della, dabbing water on her forehead.
“Just dump the glass in her face,” Jonathan said.
“Shut up, Jonathan!” Cynthia answered.
He laughed, then grabbed a bottle of scotch and took a long swallow. Reaching over Cynthia’s arm, he tried to force the bottle into Della’s mouth. Cynthia knocked his arm away.
“What are you doing? She’s unconscious. Are you trying to kill her?”
Davis came to Cynthia’s side to calm her down. “He was just trying to help.”
Her voice screeched. “Like hell he was.”
Davis muffled a laugh. “Cynthie, darling, calm down.”
Cynthia glared at him. “This is not funny, Davis.”
“But, hey, true to form, her timing was impeccable.”
Cynthia leaned over D
ella’s face. Della opened her eyes partway. “Here, Della, here’s some water.” She propped Della’s head to sip from the glass.
“I say vote Della out. Now. Vote!” Jonathan raised his hand. Lila’s hand shot up. Davis and Millie raised theirs with reluctance.
“Sorry, Della,” Millie said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Della stood and stumbled to the corner where Dick sat in an easy chair, sucking a beer. He saluted her with the bottle.
“Here.” Dick handed her a beer. “Welcome to the club.”
Della held the bottle in front of her, then smashed it against the wall. Glass and liquid flew in all directions. Then she threw herself down in a chair and stared at her lap.
Lila chuckled. “That was an award-winning performance. Jonny, did you catch that? The girl’s got some talent after all.”
Cynthia started walking out of the room.
“Hey, get back here,” Jonathan said.
“Go to hell. All of you. I am not going to sit and listen to this for another minute. Go ahead, kill yourselves off. I’m through being a witness to your disgraceful behavior.”
She left.
The group looked to Lila for her response to the defection. “Aw, let her go, she bores me.”
Millie sat on the bench, lost in her troubled thoughts. The room was quiet for a few moments.
Lila turned to Peter. “You haven’t said much this evening, Peter. What’s come over you? Usually I can count on you for a few humorous jabs.”
“Maybe I don’t know these people well enough to comment.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Avon. You’ve been with this motley crew for twenty-four hours. Surely, you must have formed some opinions by now.”
“What do you want from me, Li? I think this game’s gone too far.”
“Is that so? Maybe we should talk about a little matter of loyalty, since that seems to be your weak point. Let’s talk about Andrew.”
“That’s not fair,” Peter snapped.
“Whoever said life is fair?” Jonathan said.
“Then maybe there’s someone else you’d rather discuss? Jonathan, perhaps?” Lila raised her eyes at Peter.
“Lila, please.” Peter reached for the bottle of scotch. He took a long swig and turned away.