Whatever It Takes

by Gwynne Forster

  He broke the kiss and hugged her to him, softly and gently stroking her back. “I missed you,” he said. “Only twenty-four hours, and I couldn’t wait to see you today. Want to go fishing in the Monacacy River Sunday?”

  How could she respond to his comment and his question when every nerve in her body clamored for more of him? “I’ve never been fishing. I have no idea how you do it.”

  He squeezed her to him. “It’s easy. I’ll teach you that and anything else that you need help with and that I have any expertise at.”

  She stepped back and looked at him, fully aware that he’d left the subject of fishing. “Gee, that’s great. Make a list and I’ll—”

  He cut her off, rubbing her nose as he spoke. “Let’s eat before this gets out of hand. I’m just realizing that we both like matching wits with each other. It’s fun, but the food will get cold.”

  Later, as she waited for Kellie, she reflected on the events of the day. They would find the brooch, she had three new clients, and best of all, she sensed the possibility of a future with Douglas. At five-thirty, she transferred some papers to her briefcase and prepared to leave, and Kellie rushed into her office, having ignored Lourdes, and entered without knocking or being announced.

  “Hi, Lace, sorry I’m late. Let me see which one you brought.” She examined the suit. “I was hoping for one of your designer suits.”

  Lacette sucked her teeth, quietly she hoped, but if Kellie heard it she didn’t mind. “Kellie, all of my suits were designed by somebody somewhere. That’s the one I’m lending you.”

  Kellie lifted her left shoulder is a careless shrug. “And beggars shouldn’t be choosers, right?”

  “I’ll be by the parsonage Sunday morning. You or mama can make some waffles, and I’ll bring some good country sau . . . Oh, dear. I forgot I have a date for Sunday.”

  Kellie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going out with Douglas what’s-his-name? Or is it that Smith fellow?”

  Lacette rejoiced that Kellie no longer intimidated her and that she didn’t feel impelled to answer the intimate questions that Kellie felt free to ask her. “Name him whatever you like,” she answered and stood. “I’ll drop you off at the parsonage.” As she said the words, she recalled that she’d never considered the place home, but a temporary residence among the many that their father, a preacher, had secured for them. She wondered how Kellie felt about it and asked her.

  “I never questioned the fact that it’s home until Daddy left. Now, it’s sort of like I’m living in a boarding house and not having to pay rent. It’s weird.”

  “What will you do when he moves into his house? He said he plans to do that in the next two or three weeks.”

  Kellie’s bottom lip sagged. “He said that?” The print of her tongue moving around against her jaw told Lacette that Kellie was ruminating over the effect of her father’s move. “Hmmm. I see.”

  She took Kellie to the parsonage but didn’t go in. “Tell Mama I said hi.”

  “I will,” Kellie said over her shoulder, “provided I see her.”

  Lacette didn’t say, but you live in the same house with her, and there are only two of you, though the thought pressed upon her. Instead, she said, “Maybe we three can have dinner together next week over at my place.”

  Kellie turned and walked back to Lacette’s car. “Now that’s an interesting proposition. By the way, will what’s-his-name be there?”

  “In spirit, maybe. I’m thinking of dinner for the three of us.”

  “We’ve had a few of those since Daddy checked out. They’re like funerals. No thanks. See you.”

  Kellie dropped the suit on the living room sofa and raced to the living room window to make certain that Lacette had driven off. She didn’t see the car, so she grabbed her shoulder bag and headed for her father’s house. She had to get in there and search the place from bottom to top before her father moved in, and she only had two weeks. Her biggest obstacle was Douglas Rawlins, and she feared that she couldn’t move him. If I can’t, I’ll take a chance on getting there early Sunday morning when Rawlins will be with Lacette and Daddy will be at church.

  Douglas stopped working when he saw her approach, leaned against the handle of a shovel and waited for her to speak.

  “I need to get in the house, and I can’t find my keys. Daddy’s out of town. If you don’t want to give me the keys, will you please let me in?”

  She had an almost uncontrollable urge to mash his mouth with her fist, for he gazed down at her as if she were nothing, his face without expression. She refused to give up. Stepping closer to him, she smiled. “Please, Douglas. You won’t regret it. I promise.”

  Finally, he spoke. “Really? What are you offering this time?”

  Marbles fought for space in her belly as she thought of the possibilities should he discard his cloak of immunity to what most men would give an eye tooth to have. She traced the length of his arm from his shoulder to his fingers. “Anything you want and any way you want it.”

  He fingered his chin, and she stepped close enough to kiss him, but this time, he backed away. “I see you’ve lowered the price.” What appeared to be a grin hovered around his mouth, though she couldn’t distinguish the grin from a snarl. It occurred to her then that he was toying with her, that he had no intention of acquiescing.

  Her jaw jutted out and she backed away, grinding her teeth. “Don’t be so smart. Maybe I’ll get someone to give you a little encouragement.”

  His grin widened. “You mean the guy your father had dismissed from the job because he let you use him? That the guy you’re talking about?” His laugh irritated her. “Run along. I have to work, and by the way, figure out what you’ll tell your daddy when he mentions this to you.”

  The hell with him! She left walking faster than when she came. She’d get that brooch, and she would get even with him if it was the last thing she did.

  Uneasy about the coming showdown with Kellie, the next morning Marshall Graham phoned Lawrence Bradley, the lawyer for Carrie Hooper’s estate. “Lacette told me you’re searching for a safe deposit box. What have you discovered? Anything important?”

  “So far, I only know which banks have not leased a safe deposit box to Mrs. Hooper, but I haven’t exhausted my search. It’s the logical place for that brooch, and I expect we’ll find it.”

  “Call me when you find it. It’s bound to cause trouble, and I want to do what I can to minimize that.”

  “Bet on it. I know your problem, and I know the source. Uh . . . I have to tell you, sir, I am ashamed that I took what she offered. But I did not yield my integrity. I hope you will forgive me.”

  “I don’t hold you responsible. Kellie is almost thirty-four years old. Be in touch.”

  Marshall wondered for a minute why Kellie would go to such ends in attempting to get the brooch from Bradley. He knew she’d overstepped the bounds of good taste, but not that she went so far. Could one otherwise decent man, as Moody seemed to be, have such a powerful effect of a young girl? He doubted it. Somehow, being catered to by her mother, doing mean things for which he didn’t always punish her, and constantly intimidating Lacette with impunity must have been fertile ground for the seeds of female dominance—that’s what it was, he realized—that Moody sowed. Imagine teaching a spoiled fourteen-year-old that she could rule men! It’s too late for tears, he thought as he removed his glasses and wiped his eyes.

  Marshall went to Home Depot and ordered paint for the bedrooms and baths, the foyer and upstairs hallway. The rest could wait, but every bedroom was wallpapered, and he detested walls covered with flowers. He engaged a contractor to clean the carpets and floors and, on the way home, stopped to visit with a sick parishioner. The woman lived alone, and he wound up preparing her a lunch of tuna salad, sliced tomatoes, toast and tea.

  “This sure is nice, Rev.,” Myrtle Jones said to him. “I try to eat right, but today I just haven’t felt like doing a thing. I got some water to take my medicine, but it tired me out. Won’t
you have some with me?”

  “Well,” he said, “maybe I’ll boil a few of those eggs in the refrigerator, and I can have the salad and a sliced egg sandwich. That’ll be plenty for me. He prepared a tray for himself and joined her. “Maybe you ought to have at least half a sandwich. In case you don’t feel like fixing supper.”

  She took it. “My appetite is good right now. I guess I just get tired of doing everything for myself. The Lord will bless you, Rev. Graham.”

  He said the grace. “I’m blessed, Sister Jones.” As he ate, he found himself sharing with her his problems with Kellie, and once he began to talk, it was as if floodgates opened, and his concerns about his daughter and her behavior flowed out of him.

  “I failed her, and I don’t know how it happened. I thought both my daughters were model young people.”

  Myrtle sipped her tea and nodded. “First place, it’s not your fault. Whatever she did at fourteen was foolish. Kids experiment, and when they realize they have power, they use it. Whatever your daughter has done since she was fourteen, she’s done consciously, and she knows what is right and what is wrong. I used to tell my students not to use their youth as an excuse to make the errors that will ruin their lives then and later.”

  “But we taught her and showed her right from wrong. I can’t understand it.”

  “Quit beating yourself and thank God for your other daughter. When they were eighteen or so, I could see the difference between them. Kellie wore her clothes so tight; I used to wonder why she didn’t pop out of them, but not Lacette. Fifty percent success with kids is pretty good these days. I’m glad my grandchildren are grown and looking back on their youth with surprise that they made it. Maybe Kellie will straighten up, too.”

  “Thanks for your ear, Myrtle. I’ll drop by again in a couple of days. If you need anything, call me.”

  “You’re welcome, and you know it won’t go any further than me, ’cause I don’t gossip. It’s good of you to offer to help me out, but I can’t ask the preacher to come over here and do things for me.”

  “You call me.”

  He headed home. The bright sunlight and the budding trees along Sabillasville Road bordering Catoctin Mountain Park should have buoyed his spirits, but his mood darkened instead. He couldn’t watch as his daughter ruined her life, but what could he do to prevent it?

  His telephone began to ring as he walked into his room at the motel. “Reverend Graham speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Daddy. It’s Lacette. Bradley just called and told me he’s found the bank where Gramma had a safe deposit box. But Daddy, this is something awful. Mama’s name is also on the box and she could have opened it.”

  “All right. Ask Bradley to open the box and remove the brooch if it’s there. Can you be at the parsonage around five-thirty this evening? I’ll call Cynthia and Kellie and tell them we’re having a family meeting there at that time.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He hung up and sat down in the nearest chair. He didn’t recall Cynthia’s having a poor memory, but what reason could she have for not telling the estate manager that her mother had a safe deposit box? She had shortcomings, but she was not an evil person. He made coffee in his electric percolator and sipped it while reading a chapter of The Da Vinci Code. “Confusion abounds in this world,” he said to himself as he put the book aside. After a shower, he dressed and left for a mission that he dreaded.

  Lacette arrived shortly after he did and, to his amazement, she walked over to him and handed him a small box that he imagined contained the brooch. She kissed his cheek, hugged her mother and sister and sat down.

  He didn’t waste time with preliminaries. “We’ve just discovered that Mama Carrie had a safe deposit box.” He knew the reason for Kellie’s loud gasp, but he ignored it and continued to speak. He looked at Cynthia. “Does this ring a bell with you?”

  She shook her head and he asked her, “Are you certain you never knew about that safe deposit box? Mama Carrie opened that box three days after she moved to Frederick.”

  Cynthia’s eyes widened, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “Lord, I forgot all about that. It’s been over ten years. I had the key somewhere. Heavens!” She stood and looked around at them rubbing her hands up and down her sides as she did so. “I declare, I haven’t thought about that box in years. Wonder where that key is?”

  He waved a hand suggesting that the matter was of no consequence. “We don’t need it, Cynthia. As executor of the estate, Lawrence had the box opened this afternoon.”

  Kellie sprang to her feet. “What was in it? Was that brooch in it? Was it?”

  “Sit down, Kellie,” he commanded. “Whether the brooch was in the box should be of no interest to you other than a satisfaction that your sister now has everything her grandmother left her.”

  Kellie lunged toward him. “What do you mean? She has it? She can’t have it; it’s mine. Gramma knew I wanted it. It’s mine.”

  “Calm down, will you? Are you prepared to exchange your ring for the brooch?”

  “Am I . . . You always take her side in everything,” she said to him, then whirled around to face her mother. “You knew all along where it was, and you wouldn’t get it for me. I did everything to get that brooch, even demeaned myself. And all the time, you knew where it was.

  “You’re just jealous because Gramma didn’t leave you anything but that car and a coat, and I’ll tell you why.” Kellie walked over to where her mother sat and stood over her. “Gramma left that house to Daddy, because she knew you were cheating on him. Yes, she knew it because I was with her when we both saw you in that car. Yes, that big gray Lincoln Town car with those comfortable backseats. Gramma was so furious that she broke the necklace Grandpa gave her for their twentieth wedding anniversary. She said you didn’t deserve Daddy. Everybody knew what you were doing except Daddy and puritanical little Lacette.”

  Marshall stood, walked over to Kellie and took her by the arm. “Sit down. Now! How dare you speak this way to your mother! Whatever happened is between her and me; it’s none of your business. Nothing she’s done comes near what you’ve done in order to have this brooch. You made a prostitute of yourself, with not one man but four, but two of them didn’t accept your offer. One took what you gave, but wouldn’t give you access to the house so you could search it for the brooch. The trifling fellow you seduced and who let you into my house is your lover, the type of man you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to get rid of. You should kiss your mother’s feet.”

  He walked over to his wife. “I’m sorry about this, Cynthia. If I had imagined that Kellie would behave this way, I wouldn’t have asked for this meeting.”

  He opened the box and nearly gasped at the square diamond surrounded by emeralds. Before handing it to Lacette, he said to Kellie, “Remember that if I ever see you with this brooch, I will immediately deed my house to Lacette.”

  “It’s going back into the safe deposit box,” Lacette said. “If I ever marry, I’ll wear it with my wedding dress.”

  “It would be a good idea if you got an apartment,” Cynthia said to Kellie. “I’ll be moving in two weeks. Good night all.” She left them and went into the kitchen where they head her running tap water in the sink. He wanted to check whether she was all right, so he peeped in the kitchen, saw that she was drinking a glass of water and went back into the living room where Kellie sat in a catatonic pose.

  “She isn’t going to forgive you for that,” he said to Kellie, “and it’s a pity. I’ll be in touch.”

  Lacette caught him before he reached his car. “I hated to leave her, Daddy, but I was afraid to stay there with this brooch in my briefcase. She’s gone insane over it.”

  “That’s because it is the only thing she ever wanted that she has been denied. She’s . . . well, she’s tragic. I’ll be in touch.” He kissed her cheek, got into his car and drove to the motel where he stayed. He’d come a long way from the farm boy who rose at daybreak, milked cows, cut wood and fed pi
gs before walking three miles to school and who, in spite of that, graduated at the top of his class and won a full scholarship to North Carolina Central University. He had two university degrees, including a Doctor of Divinity, and had led the ministers’ conference on several occasions. But in spite of those and a number of other accomplishments, he had failed at what mattered most to him, being a good father to both of his children.

  “I can’t let it kill me,” he said to himself, as he nursed a blinding headache, “and I can’t give up on her. I have to help her straighten out her life. No matter what she does, she’s my child.”

  Kellie trudged up the stairs a beaten person. Where was she going to find money to rent and furnish an apartment? She couldn’t stay with Lacette; indeed, she didn’t want to. She sat on the bed, kicked off her shoes and stared at the telephone, wishing it would ring and she could go to meet Hal and show them that she didn’t need them. Not any of them.

  She heard her mother’s footsteps rushing up the stairs and hoped that Cynthia wouldn’t stop at her door but would go on to her own room. Air seeped out of her, and she could feel herself shrinking when the door opened and her mother walked in without knocking.

  Cynthia closed the door and let it support her back. “Tonight, for the first time, I saw you as you really are, as a greedy, self-obsessed hedonist who’s oblivious to the rights of other people and who has no concern for other people’s feelings. Yes, that’s what you are.” She didn’t wipe the tears that wet her cheeks, her chin and then her dress. “And the terrible thing is that I saw my role in it.”

  “Mama, please. I don’t want to hear it.”

  Cynthia raised her hand just high enough to signal her determination to have her say. “But you will hear it. I didn’t say one word when you berated me in the presence of my husband and my daughter, Lacette, who didn’t know until tonight why Marshall left me.”