Whatever It Takes

by Gwynne Forster

  Don’t make the same mistake twice, girl, she cautioned herself when she realized she found him easy to talk with and a sympathetic listener. She toyed with her napkin for a minute, and it impressed her that he didn’t feel the need to speak. I’m going to ask him. Better to learn now than later.

  “Are you married, Douglas? It’s been my experience that some men don’t tell unless asked.”

  “I’m not married, and I was wondering when you’d get around to asking that.”

  “You haven’t impressed me as a man who would cheat on his wife, but I’ve been wrong before.”

  “Thanks,” he said, “but you can’t look at a man and know whether he’ll cheat. Most cheaters probably wouldn’t have believed they would do it.”

  “I’m thirty-three,” she said. “How old are you?”

  He blinked rapidly, giving her the impression that her question shocked him. “I’m thirty-nine, and I’ll be forty next December the twenty-eighth. If you’d like to go to the Weinberg Center with me this coming weekend, let’s drop by there so I can get the tickets.”

  “What’s scheduled?”

  “They’re doing Porgy and Bess, and I love that opera.”

  “So do I. Porgy represents to me the black man’s triumph over adversity. I’d love to go.”

  At the Weinberg Center box office, he bought tickets for Saturday evening. “What do you say I pick you up at six and we get some supper first?”

  “That’ll suit me fine. Do you go to the Weinberg Center in jeans or jacket? I just want to know how I should dress.”

  “Jacket. Does that suit you?”

  She might as well let him know how she felt about dates. “I always prefer that, unless I’m going on a picnic, to a sporting event or something similar.”

  “Woman after my own heart.”

  She told him good night at Nan’s front door, and it disappointed her that he didn’t even squeeze her hand or make any gesture that implied intimacy.

  Lacette had separated from Kellie, but she remained her sister’s preoccupation. At that moment, her aunt Nan sat in the dining room looking at the fire in the fireplace and wishing Kellie would cut the conversation and hang up. “Lacette is old enough to do whatever she thinks is best for her,” Nan told Kellie. “She’s been under your feet so long, it’s a wonder she had the grit to move. You can’t control everybody and everything, Kellie, and you may as well get used to not always having your way. If you’d been my child, your behind woulda stayed sore, and you’da spent half of your life standing up. Cynthia and Marshall didn’t discipline you enough, and you sure didn’t get punished as often as you deserved it.”

  “Oh, pooh. Aunt Nan, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy. Make Lacette come back home. She had no right to leave me with all this work. Mama’s practically resigned from housekeeping and cooking, and Lacette and I have been doing everything. Now—”

  “You mean Lacette’s been doing everything. I have to hang up and finish cooking.”

  “I could go over there and eat with you . . . and Lacette.”

  “A moron could see through that, Kellie. You can eat over here all you want soon as Lacette moves into her own house. Give my regards to Cynthia.”

  She hung up and went to check on her tomato sauce. “I declare, that girl is so devious. I don’t see how anybody could live around her,” she said aloud.

  The doorbell rang before she reached the kitchen. She rushed to open the door. “Come on in, child,” she said to Lacette. “I just got off the phone with Kellie. She’s all steamed up because you moved over here, but don’t let her get to you. You hear?”

  “I love my sister, Aunt Nan, but she’ll have to find another doormat.” She changed the subject. “I went to Cabin Fever with a friend. We didn’t stay long, but it was pleasant enough. By the way, I won’t be home for dinner Saturday evening.”

  “Yeah? Well, go ’way from here. I got a sneaking suspicion you got a boyfriend, though I ain’t seen one acceptable man in this town since I don’t know how long. Either they pants too baggy or they jeans too tight, and If they ain’t too old, they still wet behind the ears.”

  “He’s very likeable, and I’m glad I’m not at the parsonage, or Kellie would give me trouble over him. She tries to get any man who shows an interest in me, and she’s been doing that since high school.”

  “Maybe she’s been a blessing to you. If a man who claims to want you will fool around with your sister, he ain’t worth having, and you need to know that. Where’d you find this fellow?”

  “He’s the hotel’s landscape architect. If you’re here Saturday around six, you’ll meet him.”

  “I’ll make it my business to be here.”

  Lacette went up to her room, unpacked her suitcases and put away her things. Sitting on the edge of the bed looking out at the darkness, she saw a star shoot across the horizon. She’d heard that to see a shooting star was a good omen. “Wait a minute,” she said. “What was it that that old woman told me?” She thought and thought until her head began to ache. “It was important. How could I forget it?” She took two aspirin, showered and went to bed, but she couldn’t sleep. Toward morning, she dozed off, only to awaken a few minutes later after dreaming that the old woman pointed a finger at her and shook her head.

  “I wonder what she told me,” Lacette said as she dragged herself out of bed.

  As soon as she got to the hotel, she dialed Lawrence Bradley’s phone number. “This is Lacette Graham. I’ve moved out of the parsonage, and I’m staying with my aunt.” She gave him Nan’s address. How are negotiations going for my house?”

  “I hope to attend the closing today,” he said. “Since it’s a new house, you should be able to move in this weekend.”

  “Thanks. Oh, thanks!” She hung up and dashed to the florist shop to tell Douglas, and when she saw the “closed” sign on the door, her spirits fell. She went back to her booth, put it in order, and then called her father.

  “I couldn’t be happier for you,” he said. “Let me know if I can help you move.”

  She needed to tell her mother but, for some reason, couldn’t bring herself to do it. “Lord, I hope I’m not developing an attitude toward Mama,” she said to herself.

  “I’ll help you move Saturday, if you like,” Douglas said when she told him her good news.

  Lacette didn’t want to tell him she’d made other arrangements, because she hadn’t and, furthermore, she had decided that she wanted to develop a relationship with him. The problem was Kellie. Remembering her aunt’s remark, she said to Douglas, “I’d appreciate your help, but you might encounter Kellie. In fact, if she sees a man with me, you can bet he’ll encounter her.”

  “I don’t doubt that. But it won’t bother me. Let me know what time you’ll be ready and whether you’ll be moving any furniture.”

  “No furniture. Just personal belongings. The minivan will do.”

  “I wish you weren’t going,” Cynthia said to Lacette, as they were about to take one of her suitcases down to the foyer. This is an awfully big house for two people. Kellie and I won’t be able to find each other in here.” She stopped, leaned against the banister and tightened her lips. Anger flashed in her eyes, and she clenched her fists.

  “I wonder if your father knows what he started. It’s as if he pushed the first in a line of dominoes. Pretty soon, I’ll be here all by myself.”

  Lacette put an arm around Cynthia’s shoulder. “You’ve got a job now, Mama, and next year you’ll be working full time. Why don’t you look for an apartment? Let the church have this place.”

  Cynthia picked up the bag that previously she hadn’t been able to lift and rushed down the stairs. She dropped the suitcase with what seemed like unnecessary force, barely missing her foot, and with her hands at her hips turned to Lacette, who had followed her.

  “You would countenance such a thing? You would leave your sister here alone?” How could you think of such a thing?”

  Would their mother never stop c
oddling Kellie and let her be a woman? “Mama, Kellie earns thirty-eight thousand dollars a year, so she can afford an apartment. If you’re scared for her to live alone, get an apartment big enough for the two of you, but it isn’t right for any of us to live here when Daddy is staying somewhere else.”

  “He left us. How can you—”

  Lacette raised both hands, palms out. “My last words on the subject, Mama. I’ll be living alone and liking it.”

  “You mean you wouldn’t let your sister live with you?”

  No, Mama. I will not. I can’t wait to get away from her domineering behavior.”

  “Who is it that you can’t wait to get away from?” Kellie asked as she came out of the dining room and walked toward the stairs.

  The ringing of the doorbell saved Lacette a lie or an embarrassing truth, which were the options available to her unless she refused to answer.

  “Hi, you’re right on time,” Lacette said to Douglas.

  “Hi. Is this all of your stuff?”

  “There’re three suitcases and a couple of boxes upstairs in my bedroom.”

  They left the foyer and headed up the stairs. “Mama, this is Douglas Rawlins,” Lacette said, unsure of the advisability of introducing him to Kellie who she knew he disliked.

  “Glad to meet you, Mr. Rawlins,” Cynthia said.

  “What are you doing here?” Kellie nearly yelled the words at Douglas, her voice high and agitated.

  He turned and took one step down. “Good morning, Miss Graham. As you can see, I am helping Lacette move into her new home.”

  Kellie then turned to Lacette. “You . . . you. How do you know him?”

  “For goodness sake, Kellie, don’t make yourself look foolish. Where I met Douglas and how I know him are not reasons for possessiveness on your part. He is nothing to you.” She reached back and took Douglas’s hand. “Come on.”

  But he stood there staring at Kellie until Cynthia intervened. “I’m so glad you’re helping Lacette, Mr. Rawlins. She could never move those things alone. They’re awfully heavy. You’ll see. I hope you’ll drop by sometime, and we can get better acquainted.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that,” Douglas said, turned and followed Lacette upstairs.

  “I gather she made a few passes at you,” Lacette said to Douglas in her room, as they stacked the boxes, “and you dusted her off. She will never forgive you.”

  He lifted the three stacked boxes, started for the stairs and stopped. “That’s in the past.”

  “That’s what you think,” Lacette said. “Kellie has a memory like an elephant, and revenge is her middle name. If I were you, I would stay out of her way.”

  “You bet. As soon as I get your stuff in that van, I’m out of her way for good. At least, I won’t be looking for her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lacette said, and she was. “Kellie is my sister and I love her, but my tolerance for her is decreasing like ice on a hot metal stove.”

  He put the last of Lacette’s belongings in the van, made a U-turn and parked in front of Nan’s house. “Aunt Nan,” Lacette said when her aunt opened the door. “This is Douglas Rawlins. Douglas, this is my auntie.”

  Their warm greeting did not surprise Lacette. After the chill he received when he entered the parsonage, he probably couldn’t help relaxing in the loving environment that her aunt created.

  “Y’all must be hungry after pulling all that stuff around. I bet you could eat some good old home cooking,” Nan said to Douglas.

  “If it’s what I smell, you bet I could,” he said. “I don’t get that often.”

  Nan served them country sausage, grits, scrambled eggs, sliced avocado, buttermilk biscuits and coffee. “Aunt Nan eats avocado at every meal,” Lacette told Douglas.

  “This was wonderful, Miss Nan,” he said later, rising to leave.

  “Wasn’t much, but at least you know now that some of us Grahams know how to treat people.”

  He stared at her. “Can you see beyond walls?”

  “No, indeedy, but I know Kellie, and I know she’s home this morning.” His right eyebrow shot up. “That’s right,” she said. These twins is different from each other as barley is from corn. Both is grain, but the similarity stops right there.”

  “You trying to tell me something?” he asked her.

  “I done told you, and I hope you smart enough to figure it out.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Your aunt’s a down-to-earth lady,” Douglas said to Lacette as he drove them to Lacette’s new home at 390 Hilton Street not far from the city line.

  “She is that. Aunt Nan’s had a pretty tough life. My grandparents made her work so that my father could get an education, and they didn’t think her schooling was important. After Daddy graduated from college, Aunt Nan went to high school at night and got a General Education Diploma—GED. She’s as proud of that as Daddy is of his degree from divinity school.”

  “I hope he appreciates what she did for him.”

  “Does he ever! Daddy practically worships Aunt Nan. They’re very close.”

  “What was she telling me just before we left? Sounded like a warning.”

  “It was.”

  “If your sister is going to live with you, I don’t think you’ll see much of me.”

  “My sister is one of the reasons why I’m glad I can move into my own house. I love Kellie, but I won’t want to tolerate her ways, day in and day out, any longer.”

  His whole body seemed to relax. “Will your next job be at the Belle Époque?”

  “I thought I told you that I’m starting my own business. I’m going to try to open in three weeks. Between now and then, I’ll be getting my house and my office into shape. I’m setting up shop in the Catoctin Building across the street from the Belle Époque.”

  “That’s a good address for your kind of business. I’ll miss seeing you in the hotel.”

  “That may be a good thing,” she said to herself, but to him, she said, “I’ll be right across the street. If you get bored, it’s a short walk across West Patrick. And if you’re too busy to drop by during working hours . . . well, in a minute, you’ll see where I live.”

  He drove up to Lacette’s house, parked and turned to her. “Do I get it right that you’ve just told me you wouldn’t mind if I visited you?”

  She looked toward the sky and told herself to take care in what she said. “I remember your saying that you are a careful man, Douglas, but you don’t need to be this careful. Do you think I pass out my address and phone number to every man I meet?”

  “Hey!” His hands went to his chest. “I try not to make mistakes with women.”

  “There’s more than one way to make a mistake with women . . . at least with this woman.” His eyes narrowed, but she plodded on. “If a guy likes me, I want him to let me in on it and to keep it in character so I’ll know who and what I’m dealing with. I don’t like being surprised after I’ve invested my emotions in a man.”

  He gazed at her, his face unreadable. “Have you invested emotion in me?”

  Play it safe, would he? Well, not with her. She’d been taught by masters, Jefferson Smith among others. “Tell you what. If you ever deserve to know that, I’ll tell you.”

  “Touché. Let’s get this stuff inside. I’m working today, and we have tickets to the Weinberg Center tonight, but if you can be patient until tomorrow morning, I’ll help you unpack. However, it’s been my experience that telling a woman to have patience is a waste of words.” He opened the back of the van, put a suitcase under his right arm and took one in each hand. “You want to go ahead of me and open the door?”

  “That was a chauvinist remark,” she said, walking ahead of him and letting the wind carry her words.

  “I heard that.”

  She stopped at the front steps and gazed up at the beige stucco colonial-style house. When he stopped beside her, she glanced at him and, with the back of her hand, brushed away her tears. He dropped the bags and in the next second
, she felt his arms around her, gentle and comforting. Shaking her head as if to deny the depth of her emotion, she smiled as best she could. “I can’t believe this is mine. It’s not as big as some of the houses around here, but it’s mine.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the tears falling from her eyes.

  “I’m happy for you. If you’ll give me your door key, I’ll put these bags inside.” She handed him the key. “Why don’t you go sit in the van while I unload? Won’t take but a few minutes. Or you can sit inside the house. I put a folding chair in my van in case you hadn’t bought any furniture.”

  She turned and faced him, seeing him as if for the first time. He cared enough to think of her comfort and to plan for it. “My bedroom is furnished, and I have two stools in the kitchen.” She was about to add thanks, but no thanks, when it occurred to her that she ought to encourage him. “But a chair will be more comfortable than a stool. Thank you.”

  “Then go on inside, and I’ll bring the chair in a minute. Where’s your car?” he asked after putting the last of her things into the house. “I can take you back to your aunt’s place to get it.”

  She thanked him and didn’t attempt to stave off the words that had been pushing to get out for the last half hour. “Are you always so . . . so thoughtful and so . . . ?” She didn’t finish the thought for fear he’d consider that she presumed too much.

  He put his hands in the back pockets of his trousers, pinned her with a hard stare, and rocked back on his heels, seemingly older than his thirty-nine years and taller than his six feet three inches. “So caring? Is that what you couldn’t bring yourself to say?”

  Perhaps it was the empty house, a place that did not yet seem hers, or maybe it was the man himself, big, powerful, never obvious, and always unreadable. Was it because she didn’t know him that she was unwilling to divulge her true feelings? She didn’t answer his question directly. “I try not to be presumptuous.”

  “I don’t play games with women, Lacette. I care about you now and have for some time. Let’s get going. I want to be at work by ten-thirty.”