Chapter Twelve
My sister’s living half a block from the railroad in a city housing project. And how did that scoundrel manage to get an apartment in the projects? The worst part of it is that she is not happy. She’s scared of him. I can’t tell Mama that.
She called her father and gave him the address. “She said we shouldn’t visit her. That’s all I know, Daddy.”
“Hogwash! I’ll visit my daughter whenever I please, and that little snipe had better not lay a hand on her, or he’ll hear from me.” And he would, too, she knew, no matter what Hal Fayson said or did.
Telling her mother what she’d learned proved more difficult, for her mother reacted with tears and self-accusations. “It’s all my fault. I coddled her and stood between her and your father when he wanted to discipline her. You mean she’s living with him because she couldn’t stay away from him? My Lord! He’ll treat her like dirt. I can tell you that from . . .” she didn’t finish it, and she needn’t have.
Lacette managed to close the conversation without revealing her understanding of what her mother had left unsaid. However, the idea that you risked your marriage for a tryst with a man who subsequently mistreated you caused her to wonder about her mother’s judgment. Maybe judgment has nothing to do with it.
“I’ll have Nick with me this weekend,” Douglas told her while they ate lunch at her desk. “He wants a place on his school’s spelling team, and he wants coaching. I can’t leave that to my parents, because it’s my job. Dad will bring him Friday afternoon.”
She didn’t want to offer, but she knew she should. “He can hang out with me Saturday till you get off from work. I can test his spelling, if he’ll let me.”
His hand remained suspended over the bowl of potato salad while she spoke, as if hearing her words immobilized him. “You’d do that?”
Her easy shrug belied her concern. “It’s important to you.”
He spoke as if his thoughts were far away. “Yes, it is, and I appreciate the offer.” She couldn’t help wondering about the thoughts he didn’t express.
The week sped by much faster than she wanted it to. On Thursday night, she went with Douglas to shop for furniture, and learned that he liked to sleep in a king-size sleigh bed. They chose one along with several matching chests as well as furnishings for the bedroom that his son would use.
“As soon as I get the house halfway decent, Nick’s coming to live with me. School’s out in May, and I hope to have it ready by then.”
“Why does the house have to be in perfect order? He’s your son, and he should accept what you can give him.”
“Yes, and that is the way I’ve tried to raise him, but I want his standards to be as high as mine; I don’t want him to settle for second best, not in anything and not ever. We could fix it up together, you say, but it’s the first house I have owned. When I was married, I rented an apartment; since I’ve been widowed, we lived with my parents for Nick’s benefit. It’s the psychology of the thing that concerns me.” He looked hard at her. “I wouldn’t take you into a half-furnished house.”
“Why not? We could furnish it together.”
He shook his head. “A man is supposed to provide shelter for his family. Old-fashioned, perhaps, but that’s the way I was raised.”
Around six on Friday, Douglas telephoned her. “Nick’s here. Would you like to have dinner with us? I thought we’d go to Benz Street Raw Bar. You like crabs, Nick likes barbecue, and I’m in the mood for a steak.”
She had to know where she stood. “Is he going to let me help him with his spelling?”
“Here he is. Ask him.”
It was his good fortune that more than a mile separated them. “Hello, Nick,” she said. “What time are you coming over tomorrow?”
“Hi, Lacette. What time do you eat breakfast? I can come then.”
She held the receiver at arms length and looked at it. This kid was a modern Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. “About nine. What do you like for breakfast?”
“Anything you cook except oatmeal. I’ll help clean up the kitchen, and then we can start with my spelling. Okay?”
She realized that he couldn’t see her nodding her head, so she made herself say, “That’s fine. I’m looking forward to seeing you, Nick.”
“Me, too, Lacette.”
She hung up, put both hands on her hips, looked toward the ceiling and said, “Well, I’ll be damned!”
Nick’s pleasant and subdued behavior during dinner with her and Douglas that Friday night gave her hope that she hadn’t bargained with the devil for nine hours of hell on Saturday. True to his word, Nick put their breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned the pots and pans in which she’d cooked grits, sausage, eggs and fried apples and left the kitchen counters neat and tidy.
“You’re very good at this,” she said.
“I used to hate doing it, but when I saw how happy I made Nana when I did it right, I got so I didn’t mind it.” He looked at her. “My dad can do this, too.”
Still perplexed at his about-face, she decided that he’d have an answer for it, leaned against the refrigerator and asked him, “Nick, the last time we were together in Hagerstown, I decided that you didn’t like me, and you didn’t. What happened? I mean you’re as charming and gracious and anyone could be. What made you change?”
He looked her in the eye. “My dad said you volunteered to help me study for the spelling team. He said he was shocked that you wanted to help me after the way I acted. I don’t usually act like that, Lacette.”
“I know that. Don’t worry about it, you and I are going to get along great. Have you been spelling aloud?”
His face creased in smiles, his relief honest and open, apparently because he realized that she didn’t hold his bad behavior against him. “All the time. Shouldn’t I?”
“That’s one way to spell, but let’s mix it up. I’ll read the words to you and you write them. In that way, you’ll get used to seeing them and when you have to spell a word, you will visualize it. Okay?”
“Cool.” He took the tablet and pen that she handed him. “Gee, Lacette, you don’t know how bad I want to make the team. I want it worse than anything I ever wanted. I didn’t tell my dad, cause if I don’t make it, he’ll feel awful.”
There was hope for them, she realized, for he had confided to her what he had withheld from his father. She took the liberty of stroking his shoulder and was relieved to see that he didn’t mind. “In this life, Nick, we are only required to do our best, and that’s what you’re aiming for.”
She began to read. “Circle . . .” He raised his head and looked at her as if she thought him an idiot, but she ignored him and continued. “Circumference, circumambient, circumstantiate—”
“Oh! I get it. Cool.”
At about ten-thirty, the telephone rang. “Excuse me for a minute,” she said to him. “Hello.”
“Hi. This is Douglas. How’s it going? Are the two of you getting along?” She detected the anxiety in his voice, and it didn’t surprise her for she knew how badly he wanted them to like each other. “Like peas in a pod. You wouldn’t believe it.”
She heard him exhale a deep breath. “Thank God. I’ve been so worried that I’ve hardly been able to work. I’m going to bring lunch around twelve-thirty. See you then.” She told him good-bye and returned to Nick.
“Was that my dad?”
“Yes. He’s bringing us lunch at twelve-thirty.”
“He’ll be right on time, too, so we’d better get busy.”
Whatever he had expected, it was not that his son would be gracious to Lacette. He hoped she hadn’t exaggerated how she and Nick were getting along. He had wanted to leave them alone together for a lengthy period, and the spelling bee proved opportune. When she volunteered, he scotched his plans to find a substitute for the florist shop and take the day off to tutor Nick. At twelve-thirty he parked in front of Lacette’s house, got the food and had started up the walk when Nick dashed out of the front door.
“I’m doing great, Dad. Lacette throws all those big words at me, and I have to write them down. She’s real nice, Dad. I’m sorry I was such a nerd, but she acts like she doesn’t remember it.” He took one of the bags from his father. “And she cooked me a breakfast that was the bomb.”
“She remembers your bad behavior, Nick, but she has forgiven you. I’m happy that you like her, because she’s very important to me.”
Nicked pushed open the door as if he had a right to do it. “Yeah. I know she is, Dad.”
To make certain that Nick understood his relationship with Lacette, he dropped the bag of food on the floor, folded her in his arms and bent to her lips. The hunger that seared his insides stunned him, and he released her quickly before looking around to see his son’s reaction.
“Want me to set the table, Lacette? Nana taught me how.”
“Thanks. I’ll help you.”
He waved a hand at her. “Oh, you don’t have to. You can talk to Dad.”
Douglas looked down at her. “I don’t believe this. I’m sound asleep.” Her laughter rang with pure happiness, and he pulled her back into his arms.
“I believe in telling it like it is,” she said, “so I asked him what accounted for his changed attitude toward me. He said in effect that I shamed him when I volunteered to help him win a spot on the school’s spelling team. Made sense, too. But I can tell you I was expecting nine hours of torture.”
He couldn’t have kept the smile from his face if his life depended on it. “I was feeling the same.” He gazed at her and felt himself immersed in her sweetness. “I need some time with you. Can we be together Sunday night?”
“I’d like that. Come over about seven, and we can have dinner here.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
At about that time, Marshall got into his car and headed for the address that Kellie gave to Lacette. “I’d better not park in front of that building,” he said to himself. “If they see this car, they won’t open the door.” He parked the Cadillac around the corner and set out for the building, picking his way among broken bottles, pieces of brick, empty cans and assorted other rubbish. The wind blew a dirty rag and a greasy brown paper bag against his legs as he walked. He had expected the hallway of the building to be filthy, and was happy to discover that it was clean. He knocked on the door and stepped aside to prevent being recognized through the peephole.
Hal opened the door without asking who knocked, and when he saw him, attempted to shut it. Marshall was closing in on sixty, but he didn’t drink, he went to bed early and took his daily walks, and he knew that, even at forty, a man who spent hours sitting on his sofa drinking beer and watching TV couldn’t match him in strength and agility. He stopped the door with his left foot.
“I came to see my daughter, and I’m not leaving until I do.”
“She ain’t here.”
“No? Then you can entertain me until she comes back, no matter how long that proves to be.”
“Who is it, Hal?” Kellie called.
He glared at Hal and brushed past him. “It’s your father,” he said and took the seat in front of the TV that he was sure Hal had just vacated.
She walked into the room and stood still, gazing at him, but obviously uncertain as to what to say. “Hi, Daddy. I’m . . . uh . . . glad to see you, but I wish you hadn’t come.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that. I didn’t come here to browbeat you. Did Fayson coerce you into moving in with him?” She shook her head. “Are you in love with him?”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
So she wasn’t in love with the man. That was something. He raised himself to his full six foot, four inch height and faced Hal, who lounged against the doorjamb. “I’m a man of God, Fayson, but if you lay one of your hands on Kellie to hurt her in any way, I’ll break you in two, and I’m not kidding. If I hear about it years after you do it, I’ll still settle the score with you. Write that down!”
He walked over to Kellie. “You have disappointed me, but you’re still my daughter, and I love you. I’m moving into my house next Thursday. You’ll get tired of this.” He waved his hand to suggest that his words covered everything around him. “As long as I live, my home is your home, and you’re welcome to live with me.”
She sniffed a few times, to hold back the tears, but her watery eyes told the tale. He put his arms around her and kissed her cheek. “God bless you.”
He rushed past Hal without looking at him, for the temptation to slug him was greater than anyone who knew him would have imagined. His child lived in the slums with a man who couldn’t give her a carpet for the floor. Somewhere, somehow, he’d made terrible mistakes in raising her. What other reason could there be for the mess she was in?
After leaving church Sunday morning, Lacette drove to the supermarket, unmindful of the city’s flowering gardens and fragrant trees and shrubs. Her thoughts centered on the coming evening. She wanted to serve a meal that would make a man romantic and very susceptible to a willing woman, so she bought candles and flowers for the table and bought groceries for a menu that appealed to the senses as well as the belly. The one bottle of red wine in her pantry would have to suffice.
At six o’clock, with dinner ready, the table set and feeling as if she’d run a marathon, she treated herself to a warm bubble bath, oiled and perfumed her body, slipped into scant, red bikini lace underwear, and pulled on a red, one-shoulder, floor length jersey dress over them.
“Thank God, I’m not as worn out as I was before my bath,” she said to herself. “He’s planning to seduce me, but I’m way ahead of him. If he leaves here the way he came in, it’ll be proof that one of us is sick.”
When the doorbell rang at seven o’clock, it seemed as if every nerve in her body stood on end. She started down the stairs, but as she looked toward the bottom step, it seemed that the distance down was twice as great as it had always been. The bell rang again, and she told her self to move, but it seemed that her belly had begun to quiver and roll like an ocean swell. Perspiration beaded her forehead, and she gripped the banister. When the bell rang a third time, she told herself that only her father was that persistent and, armed with self-deceit, made herself walk down the stairs, go to the front door, and open it, albeit with shaking fingers.
“Oh, my,” Douglas said, when she opened the door. “All this for me?” He handed her a bouquet of purple Dutch irises and yellow lilies and a small bag, bent over and quickly kissed her on the mouth.
She stared at him. Mesmerized. In his gray suit, pale gray shirt and gray and yellow striped tie, his good looks jumped out at her. Blatant. In your face. She’d never seen him so elegant with sex appeal radiating from him like heat from a smelter’s furnace.
All this for me? she was tempted to reply but instead she said, “Mmmm. You look good.”
His grin banished her jitters. “Thanks for the flowers. What’s in the bag?”
“Wine. One red and one white, since I didn’t know what you’d serve.”
She tore her gaze from his. My Lord, this man is good-looking.
“Can I help?”
“Sorry. This may be the only time it happens, but tonight I am pampering you. I won’t even let you wash the dishes.”
He poked his tongue in his right cheek, inclined his head to the side and squinted at her. “If dressing up give me privileges, I’d better make it a habit. And you can pamper me all you want; you won’t get a word of complaint out of me. Not even a sigh.”
She winked at him, pinched his cheek and strolled into the kitchen, knowing that his gaze was locked on her, and that the movement of her behind beneath that silk jersey sheath was doing its job. She served the meal in courses beginning with melon soup laced with tawny port and ending with crème Courvoisier and coffee.
He put his coffee cup down and looked at her, deadpan. “I was half besotted when I got here. That dress did what you knew it would do, and this meal finished me off. I’m putty in your hands, sweetheart.”
“Oh, dear,” she heard herself say, “and here I was thinking that from the minute I opened the door, I was completely seduced.”
He coughed several times, and it seemed that the coffee had gone down the wrong way, strangling him. “Slow down, Lacette,” he managed to say. “Don’t say such things playfully.”
She got up from the table. “Who was being playful? Not me. Excuse me, while I take these things to the kitchen. I like to leave my table neat.”
He met her at the kitchen door with the remainder of the dishes, put them in the dishwasher, took her hand and walked with her to the living room where she saw that he had put the white wine and their glasses on the coffee table.
“Want some music?” she asked him, realizing that her plan would meet no resistance and procrastinating, now that the moment had arrived.
“I’d love it.”
How can he be so calm at a time like this? She put on the mood music she’d previously chosen and walked over to where he sat. He patted the space beside him, and she slid into the circle of his arms.
“I had begun to think that I was out of step, that women didn’t want love, tenderness, and caring from a man, that during the eight years of my courtship and marriage, their priorities had switched to monetary gain and sex. I didn’t want to believe that you’re different, but you are. You’re talented, smart, and beautiful, but you’re also a kind, tender, and loving woman. Deep in my gut, I know you’re right for me.” He took a long breath, and she waited for the word “but.”
He went on. “You’re imbedded in every muscle, joint, sinew, bone and tissue of my body.” He put his hand on the left side of his chest. “And you’re deep in here. Are you willing to cut ties with other men and let us see if we can make a go of it?”
“I care deeply for you, Douglas. Did you just tell me that you care for me?”
Laughter rumbled in his throat and finally poured out. “Yes, indeed.”
She sobered then, sat up straight and looked at him. “What about Nick? His attitude toward me may change again. I don’t want to get more deeply involved with you only to have our relationship blow up in my face.”
“Nick asked if he could spend next weekend with me, because he wants you to teach him how to carve and paint birds. He’s captivated with those birds you create.”
“Really? He tried carving, and he has the touch. Sure. I’ll teach him as much as I know.”
“Any other misgivings?”
Lacette rested her head against his shoulder. “If I think of any, you’ll be the first to know.” Mancini’s orchestra filled the air with the strains of a love song she cherished, and as if he read her mind, he stood and said, “Dance with me.”
Locked to his body and moving by inches to the music, she put one hand behind his nape and the other one at his waist and pressed him to her. So long. Oh, Lord. So long she’d waited for this moment—at the edge of paradise with a man she loved. This time she wouldn’t be denied. She stood on tiptoe, parted her lips against his and felt him suck in his breath as his body quickened. Then, he plunged into her. Heat spiraled through her body, and she stopped thinking. With her right hand, she took one of his and pressed it to her left breast, it’s areola already hard in anticipation of what was to come.
He stepped back from her, but she moved into him, gripped his body to hers and held him.
“I need to make love with you, sweetheart, but if you’re not ready for it, send me out of here this minute.”
For an answer, she put his hand back on her breast and let him feel her erect nipple. His fingers caressed the top of her cleavage before he slipped his hand inside and toyed with her nipple.
Oh, the sweet hell, the torture, as unrestrained moans escaped her. “Kiss me. I’ll die if you don’t kiss me.”
He freed her breast and sucked it into his mouth, and she felt him then, hard and bulging against her. “I sleep upstairs,” she whispered, and he didn’t hesitate. Minutes later, he flung back the cover of her bed and threw his jacket and tie across her boudoir chair.
Robbed of his calm by the passion that possessed him, he reached for her. “Come here to me and let me know that you want me.”
She kicked off her shoes and molded herself to his body. She longed to touch him, and when she extended her hand to caress his belly, he caught his breath and she let her hand drift down until she could feel him. Emboldened by his gasp, she fondled him, and he threw his head back as groans poured from his throat.
“Stop it. Baby, stop it.”
Nearly an hour later, he raised his head from her breast, looked down at her and smiled the sweetest smile she’d ever witnessed. “I’m in love with you, girl.”
“Nothing could make me happier.”
Lacette danced out of bed the next morning and tripped into the shower. She could hear in her memory Mancini’s rendition of “Diane” and its words, “I’m in heaven when I see you smile,” and in her tuneless alto, she gave voice to them. Later, she strode into her office swinging her briefcase.
“Good morning, Lourdes,” she sang to her secretary.
Lourdes paused in her typing and raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm. Looks like he’s gone from lunch to dinner. Bully for you.”
He called her several times during the day. “I’ll be over at five this evening to start work on your property,” he said in one of his calls. “Does that suit you?”
“Seeing you beats not seeing you. If you want to hook your visit up with landscaping, fine with me.”
He laughed as she’d known he would. “I can’t abide untidy lawns and shrubs,” he said, “though I don’t know why I’d go to the trouble.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked him, annoyance creeping in.
“It ought to be as plain as your face. What will you do with two houses?”
She held the receiver at arm’s length and stared at it. Convinced that she hadn’t heard him correctly, she said, “What time did you say you’re coming? Five o’clock?”
“Uh. Yes. I’ll be there as close to five as I can make it.”
Wonder what cooled him off, she asked herself after she hung up. Nonetheless, she left the office at four-thirty, on time for a change, in order to greet him at her door when he arrived. Although unduly tired, she threw her jacket and briefcase on a living room chair, changed into a corduroy jumpsuit and walked out on her back porch to decide what tips she could give him in regard to her garden. She’d be satisfied growing beans and sweet potatoes, but he would have more grand ideas. She started down the steps and sat down.
How did he get so lucky as to find a woman who suited him in every respect? He had made love with her time after time the night before, and each time they scaled greater heights. He wouldn’t have believed it possible. The day passed with him counting the minutes until he would be with her again. He parked in front of her house right behind her white Mercury Cougar, got out and went to her front door. After ringing the bell repeatedly, he peeped into the picture window of her living room and saw her jacket and briefcase. He rang the bell again, took out his cell phone and telephoned her and he could hear the phone ringing. The more it rang the more frustrated he became until a restlessness and a fear settled in him. He walked around to the back of the house hoping to find a way to get in.
“My God. Lacette!” He ran to where she half sat half lay on the steps. “Thank God, she’s breathing,” he said aloud after checking. He telephoned for an ambulance, sat on the steps holding her head in his lap, caressing the side of her face and whispering words of love to her. He rode in the ambulance with her to Frederick Memorial Hospital and walked the floor awaiting word of her condition.
Good heavens, he’d forgotten to call her parents. He didn’t know her mother’s number, so he phoned her father. “I don’t know what’s wrong, sir. I was going to do some work around her house, but when I got there, I found her unconscious on the back steps. Will you please call her mother?”
“I will, and I thank you for calling me. I’ll be at the hospital in half an hour.”
Douglas stopping pacing and rushed to greet Marshall Graham when he entered the waiting room. “I got here as soon as I could,” Marshall said. “Do you know how she is?”
“No, sir, and she’s been in there a good three hours. Could you . . . uh . . . say a prayer?”
Marshall raised an eyebrow, stared at him for a second and then bowed his head. “Father, thy daughter, Lacette, is in your hands now, and we ask you mercifully to send her back to us in good health. Amen.”
“If she’s really sick, she can’t stay alone,” Douglas said, giving voice to his worries.
“This is true. I’m moving into my house this week, but I’m not sure it’s suitable for a sick person with those high stairs, but there’s plenty of room, and I can—”
“Don’t worry about that, sir. I’ll take care of her—”
Marshall interrupted. “Say, the two of you aren’t living together, I hope. It’s enough that I have one thoughtless daughter.”
“No, we aren’t, and we’ve never discussed it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look after her.”
Marshall’s fingers brushed the flesh beneath his chin where an emerging beard reflected the time of day. “Then you two have an understanding?”
“Yes. We care deeply for each other, and we want to see whether we have the basis for permanent ties.”
When Marshall grinned, he saw in the man a reflection of Lacette’s face, the half dimpled chin and the sparkling eyes. “Does that translate to ‘We care enough, but we don’t know each other well enough to marry, although we want to?’ ” said Marshall.
So the man had a sense of humor. In his book, that added to a person’s stature. “You could say that, but I’d do it tomorrow if she said yes.”
“Hmmm. What’s holding her back?”
“I’m a widower, and I have a nine-year-old son who lives most of the time with my parents. She wants to be sure of the boy’s feelings about her, and maybe she needs to know more about me. Nick—that’s my son—is enchanted with her.”
“You and Lacette are both lucky and blessed.” He appeared thoughtful as he rubbed his chin again. “The one thing that is certain to ruin a marriage is infidelity. Remember that. Forgiving it is difficult, and forgetting it is impossible.”
He looked Marshall in the eye. “My wife was sick for almost two years, and I have a perfect record for fidelity. I took my vows seriously.”
Marshall leaned back in the plastic and chrome chair and clasped his hands over his belly. “Yes. I imagine you do, and it’s refreshing.”
“Thanks. I’m going up to the nurses’ station. I can’t stand not knowing.”
A nurse met him as he stepped out of the waiting room. “Mr. Rawlins? She’s fully conscious, but we’re doing some tests before we release her. It is unusual that a healthy young woman with no history of disease would pass out and remain unconscious as long as she did. You may as well go home. We’ll call you.”
He shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll wait. She hasn’t had anything to eat since around noon, so I imagine she’s hungry.”
“We’ll give her something as soon as we finish the tests.”
“Is there . . . Can I see her for just a minute?”
“I . . . uh . . . well, yes. Why not?”
He went back to where Marshall sat on the edge of his chair. “I just saw the nurse. Lacette is conscious. They’re keeping her for tests. I’m going with the nurse to see her.”
He found her sitting on the side of a gurney, and her smile told him how glad she was to see him. “Your dad’s here, too. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll call Lourdes tomorrow morning, and—”
“But I want to be out of here tomorrow morning. I feel fine.”
His put an arm around her. “Let them take the tests. I’ll be here when you’re ready to leave.” He kissed her cheek and left, unable any longer to push back the lump that formed in his throat when he saw her so frail and fragile in that rough cotton hospital gown. He stood outside the room until he could regain his composure.
“Feisty as ever,” he told Marshall. “If you want to speak with her, I’ll take you there.” He left Marshall at the door of Lacette’s room and went back to the waiting room.
“You’re staying?” Marshall asked him when he returned. Douglas nodded. “Then I’ll get on home. If you need me, please call. Thank you for getting in touch with me. I won’t forget it.” He shook hands and left.
About half an hour after daybreak, a nurse wheeled Lacette into the waiting room. She’s ready to go, Mr. Rawlins. I’ll wheel her down to the exit.” Lacette’s smile seemed artificial, but he was too tired and sleepy to be certain. He called a taxi, took her home and up to her bedroom. She kicked off her shoes, unzipped the jumpsuit, stepped out of it and crawled into the bed.
She’s not herself or she wouldn’t have pulled that thing off in my presence. He looked at the prescriptions and the doctor’s note.
“What’s this? Severe Aplastic Anemia? What does it mean?”
She turned on her side, her back to him. “It means I need a bone marrow transplant, and that’s why I get so tired.”
“All right, don’t be dispirited, honey. We’ll find a donor, starting with your family and me. You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks. I have to get it done at Johns Hopkins. They have a bone marrow transplant program. The doctor said I’m exhausted because I’m not producing red blood cells.”
He knelt beside the bed. “Listen to me, baby. I’d go if the program was in Alaska. You stay home today and rest. I’ll get you some breakfast, and I’ll come back with your lunch around one o’clock. I’d better call your father.”
“I’ll go to Baltimore today to take the donor test, and I’ll call Lacette’s mother right now,” Marshall said. “If one of us doesn’t match, we know Kellie will, so tell Lacette not to worry.”
The days passed and neither he nor either of Lacette’s parents was a sufficiently close match for a bone marrow transplant. Increasingly distressed, Douglas asked Marshall why Kellie didn’t go for the test.
“I asked her to do that the day Lacette came home from the hospital, but she’s only given me excuses about work and Fayson.”
“Fayson? Surely he wouldn’t attempt to prevent her from saving her sister’s life.”
“Somehow, I don’t think so,” Marshall said, “and if he tries, she should put him out of her life.”
Marshall couldn’t know that his report of Douglas Rawlins’s attentiveness to Lacette had resurrected Kellie’s jealousy of her sister, her envy of the woman who Douglas Rawlins loved. “She’s got everything, and I have nothing,” Kellie said to herself over and over all day that Tuesday. “People don’t die because they don’t have enough red blood cells. Hell,” she said, pushing her hair from her face and wishing she could go to a good hairdresser, “they drink tomato juice or eat Jell-O. It just takes longer to work.”
That night at the apartment she shared with Hal, after a meal of fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and string beans, Hal pushed his glass to her, and she got up from the table, went to the refrigerator and brought him another glass of beer. He didn’t say thanks, and she no longer expected it. “You oughta learn how to make decent mashed potatoes,” he said, “and them string beans was half raw. Beans and cabbage gotta be cooked real good and done, otherwise, they ain’t shit.”
When she didn’t answer, he said, “So I ain’t good enough to converse with, huh? I oughta make you swallow your teeth. I’m going out.”
He liked to threaten her, but she knew he remembered her father’s words because, angry as he’d get, he’d throw things around the apartment, but he didn’t hit her. One of these nights, he’ll come back here half soused, and I’ll be gone, she told herself. But she’d made that promise to herself so many times since they moved in together. She sighed, cleaned the kitchen and took advantage of his absence to shower and give herself a manicure and pedicure. At ten o’clock, she crawled into bed and went to sleep.
“You mean she won’t budge?” Douglas asked Marshall. “Did her mother tell her how important this is?”
“We both told her, and my sister told her that if she doesn’t go for the test, she’ll write a story about her and give it to the local scandal sheet. Not even that has worked so far.”
“She’s good at blackmail,” Douglas remembered. “Maybe I’ll try that tactic myself.”
He stood in the lobby of the City Hall building at the end of the next working day, which was Friday, and waited for Kellie. He didn’t want Hal Fayson to see him talking with her, and he figured Fayson would meet her after work. As he’d known she would, her steps slowed when she saw him.
“You won’t take a test and give up the bone marrow that could save your sister’s life. How would you like it if I told Fayson that you propositioned me at a time when your were having an affair with him? He’d never trust you again, and he’d make your life hell. Unless you do the right thing for your sister, I’ll tell him, and Jocko will confirm that you propositioned him, too, without success, I’ll add.”
“You’re crazy about her, aren’t you? You’ve always been the one holding the aces; well, this time I have them. The only reason I’ll do it is if you take me to bed and do a damned good job of it.”
His loud gasp attracted the attention of a man who passed them. “How can you make yourself so cheap?”
“Cheap?” She tossed her head. “I’d say that’s pretty pricey, and it’s that or nothing.”
She started past him, but he grabbed her arm. “Yes. You’d do that, wouldn’t you? Lacette told me that from childhood, you wanted everything she had.”
“And I always got it, too.”
“So she said. Then you discarded it. All right. It’s a deal, but only after you donate the bone marrow.”
“What if I take the test and it’s negative?”
“After you donate the bone marrow. I keep my word, but I’m not sure about you.”
“Okay. I’ll call you at the hotel when I’m ready for our date.”
He wouldn’t call it a date. To be sure he could keep his end of the bargain, he went to a clinic in Boonsboro—where he wasn’t known—that weekend and got a prescription for Viagra. As much as he disliked Kellie Graham, he’d need it.
The following Tuesday, Marshall called him with the news that Kellie had taken the test and was a perfect match. “I wonder why she finally did it,” he added.
Minutes later, he received a call from Lacette. “I’m going to Baltimore tomorrow for the transplant. I know you’ll want to go with me, but you’ve lost so much time from work since I came from the hospital, that I . . . Why don’t you come over when I get back home. Daddy will drive me to Baltimore and back.”
He appreciated her concern for him. He hadn’t worked a full day since she was released from Frederick Memorial. “All right. Call me when you get home. I’ll spend the night at your place in case you need me for anything.”
When he learned that Lacette wouldn’t come home until Friday, he made plans to finish landscaping her property by the time she returned, and to have a little celebration with her at her home that night. However, Kellie had other plans for him.
She telephoned him at noon Friday. “I can be free tonight, and I don’t know when I can manage it again. Meet me at the corner of Third and Market Streets at seven o’clock and figure out somewhere for us to go. Somewhere nice and somewhere out of Frederick.”
“I can’t make it tonight,” he said.
“Oh, yes you can. If you don’t, you can’t even imagine how sorry you’ll be.”
“Your threats don’t scare me, but the sooner I get this over with, the better.”
He’d have to fix it up with Lacette somehow. After telling Marshall that something had come up that he couldn’t get out of, he headed for his rendezvous with Kellie. Rain pouring in torrents nearly obscured his vision, but she was clearly visible at the bus stop. She hopped in, and he drove without speaking until he reached a motel just outside of Braddock Heights.
“I’ll register,” he told her. “Wait here, unless you don’t mind being recognized.”
“I’ll wait here.” Douglas registered, stepped over to the water cooler and took the Viagra, and went back to the van for Kellie.
“My, my,” she taunted. “A gentleman if it kills you.”
He unlocked the door, pulled off his raincoat and turned on the television. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be so glum. It isn’t as if you were going to your execution. I’ll—”
He cut her off. “The hell you say. I’d rather stick my hand in fire.”
“Not for long, you won’t.” She pulled her sweater over her head and unzipped her jeans. “I know how to make a man forget everything, including his name.”
He looked at her naked breasts, large and firm, and prayed that the pill would work and that he’d soon feel something.
“Come on and get busy,” she said and offered him one of her breasts. No man liked the sweet taste of a nipple better than he did, but all he felt was revulsion. Thank God it was beginning to work. She moved to sit on his lap, but he stood up, foiling her attempt to turn the affair into an intimate one.
“You can take a horse to water, Kellie, but you can’t make him drink. We’re not making love here. This is unadulterated sex. You wanted to be screwed, and that is what I’m going to do. Screw you. That and nothing else. Period.”
“Not even a kiss?”
“Definitely not that. Get in the bed.” She stripped off her bikini panties, threw back the covers and slid between the sheets.
He undressed and joined her, and immediately she attempted to lure him into foreplay. When he disallowed it, she tried to fondle him, but he gripped both of her hands and held them over her head. She rolled on to her back, and he mounted her, hating himself because the Viagra had made him hard, and he needed relief. He took care not to hurt her and plunged in, only to find her moist and ready. He used all the skill at his command to bring her to orgasm and then, to his eternal joy, he could not find release, but became flaccid. He separated himself from her and sat on the side of the bed. Suddenly his stomach heaved, and he raced to the bathroom to regurgitate, and barely made it. He retched until pains shot through his belly.
I’ve got to get myself together. Right now, I don’t have the energy to start the motor of that van. He ran cold water in the basin, washed his face, gargled and wet the back of his neck. When he walked back into the room, she had dressed and was sitting in a chair with her knees crossed. He didn’t apologize, because he didn’t feel like it. He dressed as quickly as he could, aware that she ogled him without any evident shame.
He didn’t speak until he took her to the corner at which he had picked her up earlier that evening. “This settles my debt to you.” She got out, and he drove home.
He went to Lacette’s house the next morning before he went to the hotel. When she didn’t answer the door, he telephoned her. “This is Douglas. I’m sorry about last night. How are you?”
“If you were interested in my health, you wouldn’t have spent last evening making love to my sister.”
“What?”
“No point in denying it. She told me the precise spot on your belly where you have that scar. Good-bye.”
Stunned, he thought first to confront Kellie. But instead, he telephoned Marshall.
“I’m coming in to the hotel right now, Douglas. We can talk then. This won’t do for the telephone.”
“I went to Kellie and attempted to blackmail her into donating that bone marrow to Lacette.” Douglas told Marshall the remainder of the saga in detail, including his bout of regurgitation. “And because I only kept my end of the bargain and didn’t make love to her, she told Lacette, who thinks I’m the worst man alive.”
“Yes, I know, and she embellished it, because Lacette told me about it last night as soon as Kellie called her. I believe you. It’s just the kind of thing Kellie would do, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of Lacette.”
“Look,” he said. “I’m not going to Lacette on my knees. She should have waited to find out what I had to say. But no. She hung up.”
“Don’t make the mistake of being as foolish as she is.”
Marshall drove into town around noon that same Saturday and telephoned Kellie. “Either meet me in the lounge of the Belle Époque in an hour, or I’ll be at your apartment in twenty minutes.”
He stood when she walked across the lounge toward him, but refused her attempt to kiss his cheek, his daughters’ normal greeting. “Let’s go in here.” He gestured toward the coffee shop. “How could you sink so low as to blackmail your sister’s fiancé into going to bed with you? I knew there was something fishy when you suddenly got religion and decided to save your sister’s life.”
She hung her head, obviously unable to look at him. “And then you had the crassness to call Lacette and tell her that Douglas made love to you. If you call what went on between you lovemaking, I pity you. He told me the entire story beginning with his meeting you at City Hall, his attempt to blackmail you and your response, which was to blackmail him. You must have felt pretty cheap when he was so disgusted at the end of it that he vomited. So you got even by telling Lacette. I am going to tell her the truth, even though I know it will hurt her to learn that you saved her life for a price.”
He stood, dropped a ten dollar bill on the table and looked down at her. “Is there anything that you wouldn’t do? Anything at all?” She didn’t answer, and he walked out, got into his car and headed for Lacette’s house. How had this daughter whom he’d prayed with, preached to, talked with, and loved unconditionally become so amoral?
He worked hard at controlling his impatience with Lacette for having accepted Kellie’s word without question. He didn’t ring her bell, but banged on the front door and felt good doing it.
“Who is it?”
“Your father.”
She opened the door teary eyed and looking as if a judge had just given her a death sentence.
“You deserve to be miserable,” he told her. “If you had allowed Douglas to explain—”
She interrupted. “There was nothing he could tell me.”
“There was, and don’t interrupt your father again, miss.” He took her hand and walked with her into the living room.
“Let this be the last time you judge a person and sentence him without giving him a chance to defend himself.” He told her Douglas’s story and watched her shut her eyes tight as the tears drained down her face. “You should know better than to trust Kellie in matters such as this. She’ll do and say whatever it takes to get what she wants. You’ll have to call Douglas if you want to continue your relationship with him, because he is not going to call you.
“I know it hurts you that Kellie didn’t help you out of love, but this episode should make you secure in Douglas’s love for you. That he would do what he did, as much as he detests Kellie, is all the proof you need.” He put both arms around her, the child of his heart, and said a brief prayer. “Now, don’t worry. You and Douglas will be fine, and this may be the turning point in Kellie’s life. I’ll be in touch.”
In her mind’s eye, Lacette could see Douglas’s face, its expression serious and distant as when she first met him. What if he turned the tables and refused to listen to her? I can’t telephone him. I have to see him, to be with him when we talk.
Reluctant to shower because she was still groggy and feared she might lose her balance, she ran a tub of warm water, sat on the edge of it and took a bath, all the while praying that Douglas would listen to her. After dressing, she decided to call a taxi rather than risk driving. Shivers raced through her when she remembered that she would have to ring him from the building’s entrance and speak with him over the intercom, and her finger shook as she rang the bell.
“Rawlins. Who is it?”
“Lacette.” Fear and anxiety unsettled her to the extent that she leaned against the wall and couldn’t say more. The half minute that it took him to reply seemed like hours.
“I’ll be right down.” She clung to the door for support, all that she had experienced during the past few days devouring her strength, robbing her of her already diminished energy.
When he opened the door, she must have appeared washed out for he pulled her into his arms. “Lacette! For heaven’s sake! You should be in bed.” He braced his foot against the door, lifted her and carried her to his apartment.
“This is a dangerous thing you’ve done. I want you to lie down this minute.”
“Please, I have to tell you how sorry I am that I didn’t listen to you, how much I appreciate the sacrifice you made to save my life. I’m so sorry and so ashamed that I let Kellie sway me. Can you forgive me?”
He stuck his hands in the pockets of his trousers and looked hard at her. “That was the hardest thing I ever did in my life. It made me sick to my stomach.”
“I know. Daddy told me.”
“You stay here with me until you’re stronger.”
She had to hear him say the words. “Douglas.” She grasped his arm. “Do you forgive me?”
“I need your trust, Lacette. If you don’t trust me, let’s drop it right here, and we can be friends, nothing more. Loving a person can be dangerous. You open yourself to them, expose yourself in every way, and for that, there has to be trust and understanding.”
“I do trust you. I’m so used to being taken in by Kellie. I didn’t stop to recall the person I know you to be. I just had a knee jerk reaction to Kellie’s words, and I am ashamed of it. Tell me that you forgive me.”
“You only had to ask. I love you, and that ought to be very clear to both of us now.”
“And I love you. Oh, how I love you!”
The feel of his arms around her and of his mouth gentle on her lips was almost more than she could bear.
“Daddy, can I maybe go over and see Lacette?”
“She’s right here, son.”
After the unsettling talk with her father, Kellie boarded the city bus a block from the hotel and headed home to the place she shared with Hal. She had wanted to spend a little time with her mother, to be with someone who would wrap her in their arms and comfort her, someone who would sympathize with her. But she didn’t dare stay away from home long enough to visit her mother for fear of arousing Hal’s suspicion and anger.
“I ought to leave him, but if he called me, I’d probably go right back to him.”
“Where you been?” he asked when she walked in the door. “I thought you said you were going to meet your old man at the hotel. What the hell took you so long?”
“Daddy got upset and walked out of the coffee shop, so I had to take the bus home.”
He shelled a peanut and threw it into his mouth. “Yeah? Well, what did he get so upset abut?”
She hadn’t prepared for that question, and he loomed over her menacingly, as she stammered, “’Cause I’m not like Lacette and never will be.”
He went to the refrigerator, got two bottles of beer, took them to the living room, sat down on the sofa and turned on the television. “I’m going out, so I wanna eat early.”
Hurriedly she put sweet potatoes in the oven to bake, filled the pressure cooker with collards and fatback along with a quart of water, put a ring of smoked sausage in a frying pan and covered it so that it would cook slowly.
“It’ll be ready in about forty-five minutes.” He didn’t answer.
After dinner, he gazed at her for a long time, so long that she imagined the evil forming in his mind. “I don’t know what you’re up to while I’m out,” he said, “so I’m gonna take care of you before I leave here.”
Take care of her. How dare he! She gritted her teeth and pretended not to hear him, but he walked up behind her, clamped his big hands on her breasts and pulled her against him until she could feel his bulging sex against her buttocks. She stiffened and immediately hoped he hadn’t noticed, but he had.
“Not a bad idea. Let’s do it this way, for a change. Virgin field. You oughta be nice and tight.” He stripped her and pressed himself into her, with one hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams of pain. “Not bad,” he said when he’d relieved himself. “Not bad at all. I’ll finish that when I get back.” Then, he went into the kitchen for a paper towel to wipe the blood from himself.
She waited until he left, went to the bathroom, washed up and tried without success to find something to ease the pain. “I hate him,” she screamed at the top of her voice. “I hate him. I despise him.” She leaned her jerking body against the bathroom door, crying as she never had before.
What had she done to herself? It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the kind of family she came from. She deserved better, a man who would appreciate her background, beauty and grace. But he didn’t give a damn about any of it. Oh, she despised him when he slurped whatever was in his cup, ate spaghetti with long strings of it hanging from the sides of his mouth, and belched at the table as loudly as he could. Uncouth and uneducated. Why had she tolerated him?
She’d swear she was leaving him but then, he’d grab her, get his lips around her nipples and his calloused fingers between her legs, teasing and promising. On the floor, against the wall, wherever he caught her, he’d plow his massive penis into her and within minutes send her rollicking and screaming into ecstasy. She would close her eyes and pretend that he was refined and elegant Douglas Rawlins, biting her lips to refrain from calling out Douglas’s name.
Hours later, she would swear to herself again that she was leaving Hal, and then she’d remember how he felt inside of her and her resolve would vanish like a puff of smoke in a windstorm. But that was before tonight when she thought she would die of the pain he inflicted on her.
She drew herself up, put her clothes in the same suitcases in which she’d brought them, phoned for a taxi and waited, while marbles rattled in her belly and tremors shook her body. Lord, please don’t let him come back here until I’m gone. She didn’t relax until the taxi stopped in front of the parsonage. She opened the door with her own key, dropped her suitcases and looked around. And to think she had once hated the place.
“Who is it?” Cynthia called.
“It’s me, Kellie, Mama. Can I stay here with you till I find a place?”
Cynthia stumbled halfway down the stairs. “You’ve left him? For good?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank God. But I’m leaving here day after tomorrow. We’re closing the parsonage, but you can come on up to your old room. We’ll figure something out.”
Not quite the warmth she needed, but you couldn’t expect a fifty-five-year-old woman to change without reason. “Thanks.” She took the suitcases to her room, closed the door and sat on the bed that remained as she’d left it. “My Lord. What was I thinking?” she said aloud. She didn’t know how long she sat there before she heard a knock on her door.
“Come on in, Mama.”
“This is your father. Your mother called me. May I come in, or do you want to come downstairs?”
“Come on in.”
“All right. Did he hit you?”
“No, sir. It was worse than that, but I can’t tell you.”
“Worse than hitting you? I ought to have a piece of him anyway. Did he injure you?”
“I . . . uh . . . I’m not sure. I’ll go to the doctor, Monday and . . . and see if he did.”
“You’d better tell me you’ve left him for good.”
“I have. I’m not going back to him. Not ever.”
“The Lord answers prayers. I’m moving into my house, Monday. I’ve only refurbished the master bedroom, so you can fix up your own room. Your mother’s apartment is too small for the two of you. Anyway, I’ll be glad to have you with me. One thing.” He shook his finger at her. “Hal Fayson is not to put his foot on my property, and I am going to tell him that to his face. If he does, he will be arrested.”
She shrugged both shoulders. “I don’t care what you do to him.”
“Can I speak with you before you leave, Marshall?” Cynthia asked him.
“Sure. What about?”
“Uh . . . About us.”
“I’ve told you, Cynthia, that I do not intend to get a divorce or to give you one.”
“I know that. I . . . uh . . .” She looked at her daughter, and Kellie could see that her mother wanted privacy, but she also knew that it was no use, that her father would not budge from his position.
“Why don’t you two try to patch it up?” she said, in an effort to make it easier for her mother.
“That’s what I want more than anything,” Cynthia said. “Am I going to serve a life sentence for what I did?”
“I’m serving the same sentence that you’re serving,” he said, “and I am trying my best to forgive you, but until I die, I will remember what I saw. I can’t do it. I’m sorry, but it is out of the question.”
Cynthia turned around and left the room. Marshall Graham looked at his daughter. “Remember this, Kellie. Some things are never forgotten. I’m glad you had the guts to leave Fayson. I’ll be over around noon Monday to get your things. Borrow a couple of those boxes that I brought here for your mother. The parsonage will close when she leaves.” He kissed her cheek. “Welcome back, daughter.”
“You mean she actually left him and for good?” Lacette asked her father Sunday evening as he sat with her, Douglas and Nick at dinner in Mealey’s Restaurant.
“Yeah. I think she’ll be all right now, but she’s got some emotional wounds that may not heal easily.”
“Is she going to be in the wedding?” Nick asked his father.
“No, son. Lacette’s Aunt Nan will be her matron of honor.”
The constriction in her chest was not the first she’d felt because Douglas had ruled out any role for Kellie in his family’s life. “Of course, I wouldn’t interfere with your seeing her; she’s your twin sister,” he’d said, “but I don’t want to lay eyes on her ever again.”
She understood, for she had already decided that it wouldn’t be appropriate to have Kellie as her maid of honor. “She isn’t likely to become an issue between us,” was all she said.
“You can’t get married till Daddy and I get the house fixed up,” Nick said, “can you, Daddy?”
“We’re getting married June fifteenth,” Douglas said, “if we have to sleep on the floors.”
“Gee,” Nick said, “I’m getting a new mother, a new grandfather, a new house, and my own pony. I can hardly wait!”
“You’re also getting another grandmother,” Douglas said, and best of all, I am getting a wonderful woman for my wife.”