“Well, hey-yull,” Pokey drawled. “It wouldn’t be the first time I got cross-wise with Mama.” She looked over at Annajane. “Did you know?”
“Not until Sunday night,” Annajane said. “He told me right after he proposed.”
“Lying to Annajane was the worst of it,” Mason said. “Letting her think I went out and got some chick knocked up even before our divorce was final. And her having to put up with all the gossip and crap going around town, everybody assuming we split up because of Sophie.”
“You did what was best for Sophie,” Annajane said. “That’s what matters.”
“Man, oh, man,” Pokey said. She gazed down at her belly, then pantomimed a telephone call. “You hear that, baby mine? We just found out your cousin is really your aunt. And that my niece is actually my sister. Or half sister. Crazy, huh?”
Norris Thomas looked pointedly at the clock on the conference room wall. “Well, I guess our family conference can probably be concluded, since half the family has decamped.”
“Sorry about the histrionics,” Mason said. “And I guess we can expect that the issue is not closed as far as my mother and brother are concerned. Should we be worried?”
Thomas was putting papers back in the file folder. “I don’t think so. Glenn was very thorough with these kinds of things. He had me research the issues, and we reviewed every sentence of the trust agreement backwards and forwards.”
“Davis won’t care,” Pokey predicted. “He just wants his money out of the company, and he’ll do anything to get it. You watch, he probably left here and went right across the courthouse square to hire himself another lawyer.” A new thought occurred to her. “Uncle Norris, could he get Dad’s trust thingy overturned, on some kind of incompetency thing? It’s ridiculous to even think about, but I wouldn’t put it past Davis.”
“Glenn Bayless, incompetent? Absurd,” Thomas said. He stood up and touched Pokey’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you how incompetent he was. When we drew up the agreement, and the documents setting up the financial arrangements for Sophie’s mother, he hired a videographer to record the meeting. At the time, I thought he was being overly cautious, but now, I suppose he was anticipating what your mother’s reaction would be when she learned of the child’s existence.”
“Daddy might have had a wandering eye, but his mind never wandered,” Pokey said. “Nobody was sharper. Lucky for Sophie. And us.”
49
“I’m hungry,” Pokey announced. “Let’s get lunch.”
“It’s not even eleven o’clock,” Mason protested.
“You can have coffee or something, but I am pregnant and starving, and I need to eat. Annajane?”
“Lunch sounds fine,” Annajane said. “Where shall we go?”
Pokey looked around the courthouse square, past the gazebo and the confederate memorial statue. “The Country Cupboard,” she decided.
They easily found a booth near the back of the room and placed their orders. After the waitress brought their drinks, Pokey put both elbows on the table and gazed across at her brother. “I’ve still got a lot of questions,” she said.
Mason sipped his coffee. “I swear, I did not know anything about how the trust was set up. Norris never said a word to me, and I certainly had no clue Dad would leave Sophie part of the company.”
She waved away his disclaimers. “I saw your face when Uncle Norris spilled the beans. You were as surprised as all of us.”
“Not as surprised as your mother,” Annajane said. “It’s too bad it had to come out the way it did. She looked so hurt.”
“Hurt?” Pokey said with a hoot. “Sallie wasn’t hurt. She was red-hot furious. I haven’t seen her that mad since the day I told her I was pregnant and dropping out of Carolina.”
“She’ll either get over it, or she won’t,” Mason said. “I can’t be worrying about her hurt feelings. I’ve got a daughter to raise and a company to run.” He nodded at Annajane. “And a wedding to plan.”
“Yay!” Pokey said, clapping her hands. “When’s it gonna be?”
“Soon.” Mason said.
“After Memorial Day,” Annajane said, at the same time.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I can tell y’all have spent a lot of time discussing this,” Pokey said. “Do I get to be the maid of honor again?”
“Of course,” Annajane said. “But I don’t think we’re gonna have anything elaborate. Just family.”
“Half of our family isn’t currently happy with you two,” Pokey pointed out. “So that ought to make for a real intimate affair.” She looked at Annajane. “Have you told your mama?”
“Yes,” Annajane said. “She told me I’m crazy as a bedbug. She’s still furious that I broke it off with Shane. So I guess we can cross her off the guest list, too.”
“More cake for me,” Pokey said. “What did Sophie say?”
“Yippeee!” Mason said, in a girlish, high-pitched squeal. “She can’t understand why Annajane won’t move in right now. And I happen to agree with her.”
“Nope,” Annajane said, shaking her head obstinately. “You’ve got a whole lot of courting to do yet. Besides, I happen to love staying at the Pinecone Motor Lodge.”
Pokey looked at Mason thoughtfully. “Will you tell Sophie about her real father?”
“Eventually,” Mason said, reaching for Annajane’s hand. “When she’s old enough to process it. And hopefully before she hears it from somebody else. She does know that her biological mother lives down in Florida and that her mother couldn’t take care of her and thus gave her to me. She has a picture of Kristy, but at this point she hasn’t asked a lot of questions about her.”
“Do you ever hear from Kristy?” Pokey asked.
“No,” Mason said. “We kind of lost touch after her mother died and Kristy moved. The last time I talked to her, about two years ago, she’d gotten remarried. Her new husband is actually her supervisor at the airport, and he knows about Sophie. So I think that’s probably a good thing. She’ll have some stability in her life.”
“And she’s never asked to see Sophie?” Pokey said, shaking her head. “I can’t even imagine that.”
“Me neither,” Annajane agreed. “But then I haven’t had the challenges she’s had.”
“Kristy knows how to reach me if she wants to,” Mason said.
“Mason,” Pokey said, toying with her straw, “Did you think Mama’s reaction today was, well, odd?”
“She was furious that Dad didn’t leave her any stake in the company. I think it’s understandable that she’d be hurt,” Mason said. “I guess we all assumed he’d leave her controlling interest. Instead, he completely cut her out. I was stunned. Weren’t you?”
“I guess,” Pokey said. “Although, when you stop to think about it, Mama was never all that interested in or involved in what went on down at the plant. And we all knew he wanted you and Davis to run the company. I guess I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around all of it.”
“We all are,” Annajane said. “Imagine finding out your husband had a child with another woman—who was being raised as your grandchild?” Annajane said. “That’s a pretty big shocker.”
The waitress brought their food, and Pokey sighed happily as she contemplated her club sandwich and french fries. She dipped a fry in the fluted paper cup of ketchup and nibbled. Annajane reached across the table and helped herself to a fry, too.
“I wonder,” Pokey said, midbite, “if it really was a big shock to Mama that Daddy fooled around on her.”
“You think she knew?” Annajane asked.
“They were married for forty-five years,” Pokey reminded her. “Sallie was never naive. I can’t decide if she just chose not to notice, or if she knew and chose to look the other way.”
“Don’t guess we’ll ever know for sure,” Mason said.
50
Annajane found Voncile in the break room, eating her lunch at a small table in the corner of the room: a t
una-fish sandwich on neatly sliced and trimmed white bread, a huge dill pickle in a plastic baggie, and a small container of baby carrots. Two route drivers sat at a table in the opposite corner of the room, arguing about the merits of Fords versus Chevys.
“Annajane!” Voncile motioned her over. The older woman’s face was wreathed in smiles. Her hair had been freshly permed and colored, and she wore a muted navy print rayon dress.
“Mason tells me you have happy news,” Voncile said, her voice low. “Praise the Lord!”
“Thank you, Voncile,” Annajane said, twisting her engagement ring around to face her palm. “We’re not really making a public announcement yet, but I know Mason couldn’t wait to tell you himself.”
“He was grinning ear to ear when he came in on Monday morning,” Voncile said. “I don’t know when I’ve seen him that happy.”
Annajane laughed. “I’m pretty happy myself, to tell you the truth.”
Voncile sighed and shook her head. “That Celia sure had me fooled. I thought she was just about the nicest, sweetest girl Mason had ever dated—except for you, of course.”
“She fooled a lot of people,” Annajane commented.
“She took a nice check with her when she left, too,” Voncile said indignantly. “Some people have no shame.”
“Maybe so,” Annajane said. She watched as the two route drivers gathered up their fast food bags and tossed them in the trash on the way out of the room.
“Say, Voncile,” Annajane said, trying to sound casual. “Did you know anything about Glenn Bayless having heart problems before he had the heart attack that killed him?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Something came up today,” Annajane said vaguely. “And it started me wondering. So, had he had symptoms in the past?”
“Oh, yes,” Voncile said. “You know he had a spell here in the office, a few months before he passed. It about scared me half to death.”
“Really?” Annajane said, leaning closer. “I didn’t know that. When was this?”
She had to think. “I know it was summertime. One afternoon, he’d had a big steak lunch, probably at his Rotary meeting. He came back here, and his face was so pale; he looked awful. He swore he felt fine, but I knew he didn’t. I got him a glass of water and some antacids, but it didn’t seem to do much good. I’ll tell you, Annajane, I fussed at him so much that day, he threatened to fire me. He finally did call his cardiologist, Dr. McNamara, over in Pinehurst, and of course when the doctor heard his symptoms, he wanted to call an ambulance for Mr. Glenn. Instead, I drove him over to Pinehurst myself.”
“Was it a heart attack?” Annajane asked.
“I don’t think so. But you know how Mr. Glenn was. He was that vain about his age. Never wanted to admit anything was wrong. I’ll bet he never stayed home sick more than once or twice in all the years I worked for him.”
“Mason is the same way,” Annajane said. “Never gives in to a cold, flat denies the possibility he could ever get sick. So, Glenn had been seeing a cardiologist?”
“Sure,” Voncile said. “You know, I made Mr. Glenn’s appointments, business and personal. Even doctors, dentists, barbershop—everything. That way I kept everything on one calendar, so I could remind him. I made his appointments with Dr. Kaufman, and Dr. McNamara. And I got his prescriptions filled. I had to keep after him to take those pills every day.”
“For his heart condition?” Annajane asked.
“And his high blood pressure,” Voncile said. “We had the same prescription.”
Voncile folded and unfolded a paper napkin. “Annajane, why are you asking me all these questions about Mr. Glenn?” she asked. “He’s been gone all these years. Five years now. Are you going to tell me what happened at that meeting with the lawyers today? Mason looked kinda funny when you all got back from lunch.”
“I’d prefer you to hear it from Mason,” Annajane said.
Voncile’s face fell.
“All right,” Annajane said. “I know Mason had to get on a conference call after lunch. And I know he’d probably tell you this himself. So here it is. Glenn’s trust left equal shares of the company to his children, but not to Sallie. His four children: Mason, Davis, Pokey, and Sophie.”
Voncile raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying Sophie is Mr. Glenn’s child? Not Mason’s? My goodness, that must have taken everybody by surprise. But how can a five-year-old own part of the company?”
Annajane sat back in the hard plastic chair and regarded Voncile. She had the best poker face she’d ever seen.
“As her legal guardian, Mason will control Sophie’s share of the business until she comes of age when she’s twenty-one,” Annajane said.
Voncile processed that for a moment, then nodded her head slowly in understanding. “So, if Pokey and Mason, and Sophie, don’t want to sell off the company, they outvote Davis, is that right?”
“Essentially,” Annajane said.
“Praise the Lord!” Voncile said, raising her eyes heavenward. “My stomach has just been in knots all this week, thinking about what might happen to all of us if we got sold.”
“Mine, too,” Annajane admitted.
“And Sallie doesn’t have a say in what happens to Quixie?”
“Nope,” Annajane said. “According to Mr. Thomas, Glenn didn’t think Sallie would want to be bothered with running the company at her age. And, after all, he’d already left her pretty well-fixed in his will.”
“My, my,” Voncile said. “I’ll bet there were some fireworks when all of that came out. Especially the part about Sophie.”
“You already knew about Sophie, didn’t you?” Annajane asked.
The older woman allowed herself a small, private smile. “I guessed,” Voncile admitted. “But I never said a word to anybody. And I never will. I’ll take it to my grave.”
“I know Mason will appreciate that. But how did you know?”
Voncile cut her sandwich half into quarters, and then eighths, but she didn’t eat them. “Mr. Glenn had me handle the paperwork to put that girl on the company payroll. We never had anybody working for us in Jacksoville, Florida, before. And then she’d call the office, sometimes, looking for him.” She pursed her lips in disapproval. “Just how old a girl was she?”
“Young. Just twenty-six when she had the baby.”
“Mercy.” She shook her head. “Mr. Glenn knew I didn’t approve of that kind of thing. He was a good man in so many ways, Annajane. He helped people in this town in more ways than you’ll ever know. Paid doctor bills, got folks out of jail. Had to get a few folks put in jail, too. He bought people cars, gave them jobs.”
Annajane smiled. “He gave me my first real job when I was fifteen, remember?”
“I sure do, honey. You were so serious and business-like. Such a good little worker. Mr. Glenn noticed that, too. You were always his favorite.”
“And he was mine, too,” Annajane said, feeling a little weepy. “Even before Mason and I got married, he always treated me like one of the family.”
“Unlike some folks,” Voncile commented. “Miss Sallie just never did take to you, did she?”
“Sallie … had an old, silly grudge against my mother,” Annajane said. “And she always thought Mason could have done better. Maybe she was right.”
“Never,” Voncile said. “I always thought you were Mason’s one true love, even though I did get hoodwinked by that Celia. Mason is a good man, like his daddy. Did you know Mr. Glenn helped us buy our house? My husband, Claude, had been out of work, so the bank wouldn’t give us a mortgage. Mr. Glenn held the paper on the house and let me pay off a little bit every week. Interest-free. He didn’t go to church like Miss Sallie, but he was as fine a Christian man as I ever knew. Not perfect, though. He just had a weakness for the flesh is all. I used to pray about it all the time.”
“Voncile,” Annajane hesitated. “Well, maybe it’s none of my business. Never mind.”
“Go ahead and ask, honey. You’re wanting to know if
Sallie knew about the other women, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Annajane said.
Voncile rewrapped the remnants of her sandwich into a neat wax-paper bundle while she thought about her answer.
“If she knew, she never let on to me,” she said finally. “But she wouldn’t have. She is a proud lady, and of course we didn’t really have that kind of relationship. As far as Sallie was concerned, I was just somebody who worked for her husband at the plant.”
“Did Sallie know about Glenn’s heart condition?”
“I don’t see how she couldn’t have known,” Voncile said. “With them living in the same house. I sure knew about my Claude’s cancer. That man didn’t have a hangnail or a hemorrhoid that I didn’t have to take care of.”
That made Annajane laugh. She remembered Voncile’s husband. He was a skinny stick of a man, who always seemed to have an ailment of some kind. He’d taken early retirement from the plant in his late forties.
She decided to confide further in Mason’s administrative assistant. “At the lawyer’s office today, Sallie said she had no idea Glenn ever had any heart problems.”
“That’s not right. It can’t be right,” Voncile said. “Why, Annajane, that Saturday, the day he died, I talked to him on the phone that morning. With him not making it to the Christmas party the night before, I got a little worried that maybe he wasn’t feeling too good. So I called to see if he was all right.”
“What did he say?” Annajane asked, intrigued.
“He sounded funny; his voice was kind of weak,” Voncile said. “He kept insisting he was fine, but he didn’t sound fine. He sounded like he did the last time he was having chest pains. I told him he needed to call Dr. Mac or get over to the hospital.”
“Did he agree to do that?” Annajane asked.
“He kind of laughed at me and said I was overreacting. He said Sallie was right there, and she’d take good care of him.”
“What time was that?” Annajane asked.
“Hmmm.” Voncile folded and refolded her paper lunch sack while she tried to remember. “It must have been around ten o’clock, because I needed to go out and do some last-minute Christmas shopping.”
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