Whatever It Takes

by Gwynne Forster

  “I don’t want to hear any more,” he rasped, and closed his eyes. “Moody was the closest friend I ever had. He was like a brother to me. I trusted him with my checkbook and my bankbook. He knew practically everything about me, and he knew how I cherished my daughters. Lord!” In his anguish, the word ripped out of him. “The man was my spiritual advisor. We prayed together, just the two of us, and he betrayed me.”

  “He couldn’t have done it if you’d paid attention to what went on around you,” she said. “We’d disappear for half an hour. You didn’t see him and you didn’t see me, but you never considered that he might be down in the basement with me on his knees enjoying himself, did you?”

  Smack! Smack! His eyes flew open to see Cynthia’s hand headed back to the side of Kellie’s face. “Don’t you stand in my presence and tell me you’ve been a slut since you were fourteen. Don’t you dare.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Kellie replied. “I came by it honestly.” She turned and walked out of the dining room.

  “I wish Gramma hadn’t left me that brooch,” Lacette said. “It’s caused a complete breakdown in my relations with my sister.”

  He held up his hand as if by doing so he could halt the emergence of a false idea and wipe out the ugliness. “No such thing. Kellie’s behavior caused it.” He spoke halfheartedly, remembering Kellie’s words to her mother and wondering what she knew, for he’d swear that Cynthia had not given their daughters the reason for their parents’ separation. He got up, walked up the stairs and knocked on Kellie’s room door.

  “Yes?”

  “This is your father. If you steal that brooch, you’re going to jail, and I’ll deed my house over to Lacette as I promised you. Those are my last words on the subject. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but you leave me no choice.” He started toward the stairs, turned and went back, “If you value anything about yourself, you will stay away from Hal Fayson. As it is, you’re going to rue the day you ever saw him.”

  He plodded down the stairs, remembering the many times he’d tripped up and down those steps, contented with his life, proud of his daughters and in love with his wife, a wife who he’d thought perfect for him in every way. How had his life changed so drastically in so short a time?

  He walked into the dining room where his wife and daughter sat in silence neither touching nor looking at each other. “I’m ready to leave, Lacette. Of course, you may stay if you like. I’ve got some phone calls to make.”

  Cynthia’s head jerked up. “You’re not going after Moody, I hope, and please don’t have her put in jail. You could cause a terrible scandal that Kellie might never live down.”

  The long and deep breath that he expelled was as much from defeat as from exasperation. He rested his knuckles on his hips. “If you hadn’t shielded her, interfered when I attempted to punish her and made excuses for her all these years, she might be a different person today. It’s my fault, too, because I should have stood my ground and taken her in hand. You can’t possibly know how sorry I am that I didn’t. I’ll probably knock the breath out of Moody if I ever see him again, but the statute of limitations is the only reason why I won’t have him prosecuted for carnal knowledge of a minor.”

  Lacette looked as distraught as if she’d just witnessed an unbearable human tragedy. “I’ll be back in a minute, Daddy. Wait for me.” She headed up the stairs.

  He looked at his wife, her face as devoid of expression as it was of the heavy makeup she had begun wearing. “You see,” he said, his voice low and wan, “This is what the pattern of their relationship has always been. Kellie offends, and Lacette forgives, but Kellie is vengeful and never forgives a transgression. When it catches up with her, all of us are going to cry. It’s a pity. Tell Lacette I’m waiting for her in the car.”

  He managed to get into the car and sit down. His best friend and his teenaged daughter, a daughter headed for self-destruction. “Lord, forgive me, but he deserves one good blow from me, and if I can find him, he’ll get it.”

  Lacette opened the car door, and he forced himself to sit up straight, ignite the engine and drive off.

  “Were you aware of any of this, Lacette? I confess that I’m in shock.”

  “I’m as surprised as you are. She’s very upset, you know.”

  “She deserves to be more than upset. Her actions this morning were abominable. No one is responsible for her sluttish behavior except Kellie. Not her mother, me, or even Moody, because she knew that what she was doing was wrong. We taught both of you in our words and in the way we behaved.” He swerved to miss a supermarket delivery truck. “Only God knows how this is going to play out. Do everything you can to get her away from Fayson.”

  “What’s wrong with him, Daddy?”

  “What’s right with him? He’s unkempt, ill-mannered, and uncouth, and he’s fathered at least two illegitimate children. In addition to that, he hangs out in the worst bars in Frederick.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, as if, to her mind, no one man could have so many shortcomings.

  “His father is a faithful member of Mount Airy-Hill, and he puts his son’s name on the prayer list just about every Sunday. Besides, he brought Hal to my office and asked me to pray with him. He’s an only child, belligerent and sullen, but I can say this for him; he’s a first-class worker.”

  “That doesn’t sound good. How’d she get involved with him?”

  “She wanted to search the house for your brooch, and got him to let her go in there and do whatever she wanted to do while he was supposed to be working. You may imagine how she paid him. Women don’t seem to realize that seducing a guy in order to use him is one of the easiest ways to get hooked on a good-for-nothing man. Sex can be like cocaine. Well, we have to pray for her.” He drove up to Lacette’s house and parked. “I’d come in, but I’m not in the mood to enjoy anything, not even your success.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll try to make up for it.”

  She patted his shoulder. “I know how you feel. This is . . . I never thought she’d mix herself up in anything like this. She’s always seemed so . . . well so clever.”

  “Yeah,” he said, pulling air through his front teeth. “maybe too clever. I’ll be in touch.”

  Lacette didn’t like the way in which Kellie spoke to their parents, but neither did she want her sister isolated from the family. She passed the telephone that rested on a table in her foyer and had to use all the willpower she could muster to prevent herself from telephoning her sister. Kellie was being drawn deeper into the net she’d created for herself, a snare that would seal her fate as Hal Fayson’s victim. Yet, she couldn’t give Kellie the impression that she countenanced her behavior, for she didn’t. She had, in fact, been appalled.

  “I’d give her the brooch, but if Daddy ever saw her with it, he’d deed the house to me, and that would upset her more than not getting the brooch,” she said to herself. “Oh, what the heck! I can’t be a mother to my sister.”

  She made a turkey sandwich for her lunch, put it, an apple and a thermos of coffee in a bag, got into her car, and drove to her office. She found a note in an envelope taped to her door. Before she opened the door, she read the short message: I thought you said you’d be in your office today. Call me when you get in. Yours, Douglas.

  She went inside, dropped her belongings on the desk and telephoned him. “Hi, Douglas. This is Lacette.”

  “Hi, there. You think I wouldn’t recognize your voice among a thousand? You wound me.”

  She gulped. “Wait a minute, mister. You’re speaking out of character.”

  “Not out of character a’tall; getting bolder perhaps, but definitely being myself. I’d like to have dinner with you this evening, but I started work on your father’s grounds, and they’ve apparently been neglected for years. Crabgrass, dandelions and every other kind of weed you don’t want in a lawn. Besides, most of the shrubs have to be replaced, and the trees have never been pruned. I’m speaking never. He said it’s important that I get it done w
ithin a month, and since I’m only working on it after I leave the hotel, I’ll need a month.”

  “Since you’re being bold, I’ll exercise my right to do the same. Does this mean, I won’t see you for a month?”

  “There’s lunch hour and, of course, Sunday. Your dad said I can’t do the work on Sunday ’cause it’s the Sabbath.”

  “I know. He’s a stickler for that.”

  “What do you say I bring some lunch over today and we eat it in your office?”

  She was about to tell him that she brought her lunch, when she remembered that if she didn’t see him at lunchtime, she wouldn’t see him at all that day.

  “That will be wonderful. Douglas, I’m always surprised at your thoughtfulness.”

  “Keep that up, and I’ll be over there in a couple of minutes.” In her mind’s eye she could see the wicked glint in his eyes—eyes that she adored—and the smile that hovered around his mouth. For a minute, she was tempted to taunt him into breaking his rule about mixing work and social life.

  “I’m keeping notes,” she said instead, “and when I do see you, you’re going to account for all these smart sayings.”

  “Won’t hurt me none. See you at twelve-thirty.”

  She had expected sandwiches, but he brought hot lunches from the Belle Époque dining room, a crabmeat soufflé with sautéed red peppers and a salad for her, and barbecued shrimp with rice and a salad for himself.

  “You even brought utensils,” she said, “real ones.”

  He bowed from the waist. “I aim to please, ma’am. When I told the cook that I wanted to impress a woman, he said, ‘leave it to me,’ and he didn’t let me down.”

  She laid her head to one side and regarded him closely. “Any reason why I can’t make friends with this chef?”

  “Every reason, and I don’t have to list them.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re not joking, are you?”

  “No, I definitely wasn’t joking.” His fingers rubbed his chin as if he was bemused.

  “Your father told me that in no circumstances am I to allow your sister to enter that house, and he said it so forcefully, shaking his finger at me, that I was stunned. Is there something I ought to know?”

  As much as she liked him, she wasn’t going to expose Kellie in order to put him at ease. “I told you about the brooch, didn’t I? Well, she’s gone to considerable extremes to find it, so he was putting you on your guard.”

  “Warning me was more like it, but he needn’t worry; a little of your sister goes a long way with me. I’m sorry,” he said when she winced. He took her hand in his. “I wouldn’t hurt you for anything.”

  She gazed steadily at him. “You’re by no means a glib man, so I believe you mean that.”

  He picked up a paper napkin, wiped his mouth, leaned over and kissed her. “And I also meant that.”

  She watched him savor his lunch. Why does the word “lusty” come to mind as I’m watching him, she asked herself, and on an impulse, she said, “You like gourmet food, fine wine and liquors, music, paintings and the great outdoors.”

  He stared at her, seemingly shaken. “Are you psychic?”

  “Not that I know of,” she said, omitting her occasional premonitions.

  “Hey. What is it? What’s the matter?” he asked her.

  “Uh . . . nothing. I just remembered something that I forgot to tell my father.” What she had forgotten was the premonition she had when she awakened that morning.

  Visibly relieved, he continued eating. “I’m going to learn to cook this if I have to go to cooking school,” he said of the barbecued shrimp. “I love this stuff.”

  “While you’re at it, learn how to cook crabmeat soufflé. I don’t know when I’ve eaten anything so tasty. I brought a thermos of coffee from home. Want some?”

  “Now, who’s thoughtful. Yes, indeed.”

  As they sipped coffee, neither spoke. She knew his gaze was on her, but she focused on the grain of the wood that constituted her desktop.

  “Look at me, Lacette.”

  She tried without success to force herself to look at him, but couldn’t. She heard him get up, and felt the heat of his nearness as he moved to where she sat. Not a muscle in her body moved; even her heart seemed to have stopped beating.

  He stood beside her chair. “If you won’t look at me, I’ll lift you up from this chair.”

  She didn’t doubt that he would, but she couldn’t make herself comply. Why doesn’t he get on with it? She closed her eyes and waited. Waited while the aroma of agitated man tantalized and teased her. Waited while her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Then his hand clasped her shoulder, and still she waited. Waited until his other hand slipped beneath her knees, lifted her to her feet and locked her to his body. Bold, brazen and all man. He gripped her to him, held the back of her head and plundered her mouth so deftly that she could only cling to him as tremors raced through her and she felt contractions in her womb.

  She braced her hands against his chest in the hopes of gaining strength, and immediately, he loosened his hold on her and broke the kiss. “Are you . . . annoyed?”

  Her eyes widened, and both eyebrows shot up, “Annoyed? You’re not serious.”

  The words had hardly passed through her lips when he put both arms around her and urged her back into his embrace. “I’m glad. I’ve wanted that for so long. If you don’t have plans for Sunday, could we spend the day together?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Then I’ll be at your place around ten. All right?”

  “That’ll be fine. Thanks for lunch.”

  “It was my pleasure. We’ll talk before Sunday.” He looked at his watch. “I have to get to work in seven minutes, and am I glad you’re working across the street from the hotel!” He kissed her cheek, collected the utensils and left.

  The man had moved in like a bulldozer poised to demolish a building. Bold, confident, and far from the reticent man she’d thought he was. Having been thrust up from the hell of her sister’s predicament to the reassuring heaven she found in him had to be the explanation for her unsteadiness. Shaken, she sat down and breathed slowly and deeply.

  Hold on, girl, till you know more about him. He just gave you a surprise, and he may have more in store for you, some of which you may not like.

  She drafted press releases and newspaper ads and prepared them for mailing, but at the end of the day, she didn’t feel as if she had accomplished anything. Before leaving her office, she telephoned her mother.

  “Hi, Mama. Have things quieted down over there? What’s Kellie doing?”

  “After you and Marshall left, we had a big row. With my problems, I may not be my old self right now, but she is not going to disrespect me the way she did this morning. No telling how Marshall is feeling; he always behaved as if he thought you girls were perfect.”

  Now you want to lump me with Kellie, as if I’ve been doing the same thing she’s been doing. Of all the ways you’ve devised to excuse her, this is the most objectionable. I won’t stand for it.

  “Mama, I haven’t given you and Daddy any reasons to be disappointed in me, so keep this focused on Kellie. Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. She left in a huff about half an hour ago. I asked her when she’d be home, and she said, ‘Maybe never.’”

  “Oh, Mama, I’m so sorry.”

  “If your father hadn’t left home—”

  She interrupted, something she wasn’t normally prone to do, but that line of thinking was intolerable. “You’re saying that your separation was Daddy’s fault, that he did something unseemly that caused the break? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “I’m not telling you anything about that; I’m just saying that if he was here, none of this would have happened.”

  “Mama, we were all together when Kellie was fourteen. She’s thirty-three now and presumably of sound mind, so she alone is responsible for what she does. You’ve got to stop shielding her, Mama, just like I’ve stopped lett
ing her have her way whenever she pouts and stamps her foot or butters me up. And when I decided to quit catering to her, I stopped resenting her.”

  “All this is easy for you to say; you’re not her mother.”

  “You never had any trouble saying no to me and letting me know when I’d done something wrong. Maybe that accounts for the difference between Kellie and me.”

  Cynthia’s voice took on a hard veneer and an unusual stridency. “You’ve developed a sharp tongue, too. I’d like to know where you’re getting your newfound nerve.”

  “I called to see how you are, Mama. I’ll be home if you need me. Love ya. Bye.” After she hung up, she wondered why she’d told her mother that she loved her. She did, but words of endearment rarely passed between them. What kind of a family have we been all these years? She packed her briefcase, looked around, and her glance fell on the piece of walnut wood she’d purchased the previous week. “I may as well take it home,” she said to herself. “The chances of my doing any paperwork tonight are about nil, because I know I won’t be able to concentrate on it, but I can always carve my birds.”

  Far from chastened and unmindful of the way in which her behavior, especially her outburst that morning, had depressed the members of her family, Kellie set out for her father’s house that Saturday around five o’clock, intending to see for herself if Hal had been relieved of his job. When she remembered that Thursday was to have been his last day to work at her father’s house, she was less than a block from it. But rather than turn back, she continued toward the house, hoping to find some other way of entering it.

  She walked around the north side of the building—hidden from view by the intertwined limbs of a grape arbor—the sound of her steps upon the dry leaves and sticks the only noise she heard. She peeped through the dining room window, saw nothing and kept going—more stealthily now—toward the back of the house.

  “What, may I ask, are you doing here?”

  “Oh!” She backed toward the house, slamming her shoulders against it, and winced in pain.