How strange that one little boy could have so much power over three people. One now dead had brought him into the world, and two still living couldn't agree to give him the home he deserved.
* * *
"Miss Kay, I am so tickled that you done come."
The next afternoon, Novella opened the front door and ushered the children and me into what Mother called Daddy's study where she had covered the wide partner’s desk with a linen tablecloth. There were piles of scones; tea sandwiches made of cucumber, smoked salmon and watercress, each with the crusts removed and cut in dainty squares; petit fours; and chocolate cake. An angel food cake sat on a silver platter next to a large, silver bowl of whipped cream; beside it was a smaller crystal bowl of jam and an enormous strawberry Bavarian. The coffee and teapots towered over the food, in the antique serving set my Grandmother James had given my mother as a wedding gift. Even the antique sucrier had been resurrected, filled with soft, powdered sugar.
"Wow! Look at all that food!" Andrew reached for a sandwich.
"Andrew, you just keep your fingers out of there. I got you and Lillian here a plate back in the kitchen. Right now, your mama and your grandma need to talk."
"My God, Novella, who else is coming? The Joint Chiefs of Staff? The Pope?"
Novella smiled; there was no other cook like her in Mother's closed social circle, and she knew it. "No, just you and Mrs. James. Sit down. I'll get her, once I settle these two." Novella herded the children out the door, closing it with a gentle click behind her. I made myself comfortable and waited in one of the leather armchairs she had pulled close to the desk.
I'll bet I haven't been in this room for years, I thought. The study in our old house was always Daddy's domain, and mother had struggled to reproduce it in this new McMansion she lived in. Daddy did all his after-hours business there, meeting with the other partners in his medical practice, his lawyers, or accountants. I knew I was in trouble when Daddy summoned me to the study, and calmly shut the door behind me.
Daddy had been gone so long, since my junior year of high school, that some days I had trouble remembering his face.
Poor Mother,
I thought, suddenly astounded.
Novella was right—I'm all Mother has. It's no wonder she's so manipulative. For a woman with everything, she really has so little in her life. Except for that old cow Lovey McNair, she has to hoard every emotional tie she makes.
What was she like as a child, I wonder? She never talked about it. Come to think about it, her entire side of the family was never discussed, except to say that she was an only child and that after she graduated from high school they died in a car wreck. Was she wealthy? I knew she had been a medical secretary when she met Daddy during his residency at Jubilant Falls City Hospital. But was it a job just to keep a wealthy young woman busy till she found a husband, or did she need to support herself? Had she married into money, or did she have any of her own?
Why was it all such a secret?
The heavy door opened, and Mother in gray flannel slacks and a white cashmere sweater entered the room. She was twisting her pearl necklace through her fingers, nervously. Her cheeks were hollow, and she had applied too much rouge to cover her colorless skin.
"Hello, Kay," she said apprehensively. "I'm so glad you came."
A rush of feeling brought me to my feet. We were two adults now, two women who had lost their husbands, not parent and child eternally bickering. I walked quickly across the room to take her hands in mine. This woman was as adrift in this big house as P.J. was in Songtan. In our argument, I had cut her off from the things that meant the most to her, and she had suffered. I couldn't do that any longer. She would make me crazy; she would attempt to impose her values over mine, but she was still my mother, my only mother, just like Paul was Andrew and Lillian's only father. Once she was gone, there would be no other. Despite her faults, she was still family.
"Mother, I'm glad I came, too," I hugged her. She pulled back rigidly from me, quickly masking a startled look and becoming the dreaded social maven I abhorred.
That's OK, overlook it,
I told myself.
She's all the family you've got. You need each other.
"I do hope we can put all this unfortunate business behind us now." Mother took a lace handkerchief from her pocket and carefully blotted her lipstick. "It has been so difficult for me."
My heart filled with pity. "These last months haven’t been easy for any of us."
"Well, do sit down, darling. I'll ring Novella to serve us."
"That's not necessary Mother. We can do it ourselves."
Mother was unsure. "Well, if that's what you want."
"It is." I picked up one of the Minton plates Novella had set out, the beautiful Crown Darby colors shining amidst all the food. "I haven't seen this stuff in years, Mother. I forgot how elegant everything was. What can I get you?"
"Well, I suppose just one cucumber sandwich and some tea."
"No pastry? No cake?"
"No, darling, I don't think so."
"There's enough food here to feed the Atlantic Fleet! You sure you don't want anything else?" I poured the tea and handed it, along with the single sandwich, to her, then began to generously fill my own plate. "I might just call this dinner, there's so much here. I'm sure the kids are having a wonderful time in the kitchen."
Mother raised her eyebrows over her teacup, as I heaped a spoonful of whipped cream over my angel food cake.
"My goodness, Kay, you're eating like you hadn't seen food in a week."
"I just forgot how good a cook Novella is," I smiled at her. "Mother, you know you never told me what you were like as a little girl. Isn't that strange? I mean, all these years we've been so at odds with each other that we never took the time to really sit down and get to know each other."
"If you intend on walking down the aisle with Marcus Henning, you best watch your figure my dear. The older you get, the harder it is to take that extra weight off. And any man who steals one man's wife wouldn't think twice about doing it again with somebody younger and prettier."
My jaw clenched.
Just let it go
, I reminded myself.
"My, that hit a nerve. You haven't done anything as stupid as get married again without telling me, have you?"
She's baiting you, I told myself. Trying to goad you into an argument. Don't take her seriously; she's just a lonely old lady.
"No, I haven't Mother. If I do we'll certainly invite you."
"I hope not. You've been married twice now. With your track record, you would think you learn to not do it again." Mother's words trailed off as she sipped her teacup daintily.
"Mother, would you shut up? You're going to drive me to drink!"
She hunched over her solitary sandwich. "I didn't mean to ruin our reconciliation," she said plaintively.
I took a deep breath and smoothed my skirt, trying to concentrate on keeping my promise to Novella to make peace with Mother. Was it a painful childhood that made her lash out at me? Obviously, something she wasn't willing to share with me. "That's okay. Let's talk about something else."
"Yes. Tell me what you have been doing with yourself."
"Working mostly. Until everything in Paul's estate gets settled, things are kind of tight."
"Are you in any financial difficulty, my dear?"
"Not really. I mean, we're not starving," I took a bite of a salmon sandwich. "There's plenty of food, and the kids’ shoes still fit, but there's nothing for extras right now."
Mother was silent for a few moments. "Darling, may I make a suggestion?"
"Before you do, I want to say something." I raised both hands. "I do not need any suggestions on how to run my life. I'm an adult. I would appreciate it if you would keep your comments about how I choose to live my life to yourself. Would you tell Lovey what to do?"
"But Kay, you don't know about Lovey…" She bit her lip and was silent a moment. "If that's what you like. I just have one little idea—please, hear me out." Without waiting for my reply, Mother plowed on. "This is something I've been planning to do for quite a while, since you and Paul were first married. In fact, I was going to give it to you for your tenth wedding anniversary, but since you and he would have obviously split up long before that."
"Mother!"
"I'm sorry." She moved to the desk and pulled a folder from the bottom drawer. "I am prepared to offer you half of my stock in a little venture Lovey and I have had going for years. We call it Marlov Enterprises. That would give you twenty-five percent ownership in the company and even partial ownership in the house you live in. It's a sure thing, Kay. There aren't many of these in life. You’d be a fool to let it pass."
"I don't know…" If I took this from her, I would be right back where I started, under her thumb. But, then, I also have more than my paycheck, Paul's Air Force survivor benefits, and the Social Security check I get for the kids.
"Please Kay, take it as a gift." Mother handed me the folder.
"Let me show this to Marcus."
"No! Absolutely not!" she cried out in sudden terror, snatching the papers from my lap. "This is none of his business!"
"Mother, it's not that big a deal! What could it hurt to show it to him?" I stood to take the folder from her hands, but Mother clutched it tighter and backed into the corner, her eyes wild with fear.
"No! No! This is a personal gift, Kay, and I really don't want you to share it! How would you feel, if neighbors were to read your journal or see your tax returns? Some things are meant to be private! Promise me, Kay, promise me!"
"Okay, okay, I won't show it to him, if it will make you feel better." Carefully, I took the folder from her once more. If she’d been on the window ledge, I don't doubt she’d have jumped. "I think I should talk to someone about it, though, for my own peace of mind."
"Talk to Mr. Rathke." Mother smoothed her hair and sat back down to pour herself some tea; the spout chimed unsteadily against her cup. "Mr. Rathke has always handled all of the family's legal affairs. Your father trusted him implicitly. He's honest, he's respected."
"Okay, okay, I'll go to Rathke, and I won't show it to Marcus."
"Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I’d like to see my grandchildren." Mother, still ashen, went to the door and rang the dainty bell she kept on the table in the foyer. "Novella, if you would bring Andrew and Lillian into the study please?"
Jeez, she sure lost it there for a minute, I thought, helping myself to another cucumber sandwich. I suppose, if it kept the peace between us, I could keep it under my hat.
Lillian and Andrew came running to embrace their grandmother. Behind them, Novella beamed at me. At the very least, I had made peace with my mother and, after all, wasn't that my whole reason for coming?
During the drive home, I began to rethink my promise.
Why should I keep anything at all from Marcus, even if she asked me to? Didn't keeping secrets destroy my relationship with Paul? What frightened her so much that one sentence made her freeze like a deer facing oncoming headlights?
Marcus could give me a different slant on this than Rathke could. Rathke, the old slime ball, would only give me Mother's sales pitch all over again: what a good thing it was, why I should take it, think about the children, blah, blah, blah. With all the stuff about Aurora Development and Elizabeth Kingston going on, I'm not sure I trusted old Marty Rathke any more.
I pulled the Porsche into the gravel driveway behind the house and helped Lillian unbuckle her seat belt.
Mother's reaction was extreme, even disturbed. But without knowing any more about her how could I say that for sure? She cut me off like she had something to hide, when I asked her about her childhood. What was this God-awful secret? I had to talk to somebody about it, and Marcus was all I had right now.
"So, how did it go with Maid Marian this afternoon?" Marcus was at the dining room table, surrounded by papers, having let himself in with his own key. Andrew eyed him suspiciously, and Lillian stopped to kiss him briefly on the cheek as they moved past him and upstairs to their rooms.
"Well enough. She promised to keep out of my life. I promised to stay in hers. What's all this?"
"I’m just going through some of this old Aurora stuff. The trial starts next week."
"Anything happen today?" I asked, as I laid my coat and Mother's folder across the kitchen table.
"Nothing worth a story. Tenants are paying rent into an escrow account, that’s about it.”
"Go for the pocketbook, and their hearts and minds will follow?" I sat down on his lap and kissed him.
"Something like that."
"Wonderful! Maybe we'll have this all settled soon! Something happened this afternoon I need to talk to you about."
"Your mother?"
"Well, suppose someone told you something, or, say, was going to give you something, but wanted it to be kept secret. What would you do? I mean, if there was something strange about it, something you didn't feel good about?"
"As a reporter, I could consider it off the record, if it were perfectly clear beforehand that it was not to be used in a story. As a friend, I’d take it to my grave. Why?"
I hedged. "If the giver became totally irrational? Totally loony?"
"Kay, unless I know the whole story, I don't know what I do."
"Mother gave me something tonight, something she didn't want me to share with you at all, something she became absolutely paranoid about when I suggested that I show it to you." I slipped into the chair beside him and held his hand across the table.
"That’s no surprise that she wouldn’t want me to have a part in it. She hates my guts. What did she give you?"
"Well, that's the thing. I promised I wouldn't tell." I laughed nervously. "She wanted to give it to me as a gift. She got all bent out of shape, when I mentioned that things were a little tight until Paul's estate gets settled."
"So it's money. Why would she not want you to tell me she gave you money?"