Bygones (12 page)

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Authors: LaVyrle Spencer

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BOOK: Bygones
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When he was sitting behind the wheel, putting his keys in the ignition, she remarked, “Boys don’t do that much anymore-open car doors.”

He knew. He was one of them. Now he felt all
glowy
inside and decided if she could be honest, so could he. “It felt good doing it, too.

And you know what? Other’ than for my mother, I don’t do it much, either. But I will from now on.”

She buckled her seat belt-something else he rarely did-but he fished around, found his buried buckle, and engaged it. He adjusted the heater, stalling for time; otherwise, he’d have her home in ten minutes. He put the car into gear and headed toward

White Bear Avenue
, driving twenty miles an hour in the thirty-mile zone through the residential district.

Halfway to her house, he said, “Could I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Are you going with anybody?”

“I don’t have time. I’m in girls’ basketball and track, and I work on the school paper, and I spend a lot of time studying. My folks can’t afford college tuition, so I’ll need a scholarship, which means I have to keep my grades up.”

If he told her how he’d skated through high school, she’d ask him to stop the car and let her out right here.

“How about you?” she asked.

“Me? Nope, don’t go with anybody.”

“College?”

“No.
Just high school.”

“And you want to be a drummer.”

“Yes.”

“And meanwhile?”

“Meanwhile, I work in a nut house.”

“A what?”
She was already amused.

“It’s a warehouse. I package fresh roasted nuts—peanuts, pistachios, cashews. Christmas is our biggest season. It really gets crazy in a nut house at Christmas.”

She laughed, as people always did, but the comparison between their ambitions was pointed enough to sound ludicrous, even to him. After a silence he said, “Jesus, I really sound like a loser,
don’t
I?”

“Randy, I need to say something right up front.”

“Say it.”

“I’d just as soon you didn’t say Jesus that way. It offends me.”

That was the last thing he’d expected. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it. “Okay,” he replied. “You got it.”

“And as for being a
loser .
, .
well
, I’ve always thought if a person feels like a loser, he ought to do something about it. Go to school, get a different job, do something to boost your self-esteem.”

They reached her house. The lights were on, and cars were in the driveway. Randy parked on the street.

Looking straight out the windshield, he said, “Listen, I know you think I’m a jerk because I don’t get along with my dad, but maybe you’d
like
 
to
hear why.”

“Sure. I’m a good listener.”

“When I was thirteen, he had an affair and divorced my mother, and married somebody else. Everything just sort of fell apart after that-home, school. Especially school. I kind of drifted through.”

“And you’re still feeling sorry for yourself.”

He turned his head, studied her awhile, and said, “He messed up our family.”

“You think so? You aren’t going to like what I have to say, but the truth is, each of us is responsible for
ourself
. If you started sloughing off in school, you can’t blame him for that.”

“Jesus, aren’t we smug?” he replied.

“You said Jesus again. Do it once
more,
and I’m leaving.”

“All right, I’m sorry!”

“I said you weren’t going to like what I had to say. Your sister made it. Your mother’s done all right. Why didn’t you?”

He threw himself back into the corner of the seat and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, I don’t know!”

She was out of the car like a shot and heading for the house before he realized what he’d said. He opened his door and shouted, “Maryann, I’m sorry! It just slipped out!” When the house door slammed, he slugged the car roof with both fists. “What are you doing, Curran, chasing this uptight broad!” He flung his body behind the wheel, gunned the engine, and peeled down the street, cursing a blue streak.

He ran two stop signs and braked beside some strange house and got out his marijuana. He had a couple of good hits. He was smiling when he either said or didn’t say, “The hell with you, Maryann Padgett.”

 

WHEN LISA SAID GOOD NIGHT to her mother and father at the restaurant, she gave Michael a hug. “See you tomorrow, Dad.”

“Absolutely.”
He held her extra long, one of the last times he’d do so before she took another man’s name. “I understand you’re staying at the house tonight with Mom.”

“Uh-huh.” Then, at his ear, she whispered, “Keep up the good work, Dad. I think you’re
makin
’ points with Mom.” She broke away and smiled. “See you at home, Mom.
Good night everyone!”

Michael hid his surprise, while Lisa went out the door with Mark. The rest of the
Padgetts
said good night and left. Michael and Bess were the last two in the place, standing near the door, dawdling, putting on their gloves, buttoning their coats.

“It looks to me like something-is cooking between Randy and Maryann,” Michael remarked.

“They’re a wonderful family, aren’t they?” Bess said.

“I thought it bothered you to be around wonderful families.”

“Not as much as it used to.”

“Why’s that?”

She gave no answer.

“You know what?” Michael said.

“What?” Bess said softly.

He’d intended to say, “I wish I was going home with you and Lisa,” but thought better of it.

Instead, he said, “I’ve planned a surprise for Lisa and Mark. I’ve ordered a limousine to pick them up tomorrow.”

Bess’s eyes widened. “So did
I
!”

“Are you serious?”

“Not only that, I had to pay for it in advance.”

“So did I”

They began laughing. When they stopped, Michael said, “Well, what are we going to do about it?”

Bess shrugged. “I don’t know. Split the loss, I guess.”

“Or treat ourselves. What do you say?
Wanna
ride to the wedding in a white limo?”

She grinned. “Only a dummy would say no to that.”

“Good:” He smiled, pleased. “Let yours take Lisa, and mine will pick you up.
. We’ll get there in time for pictures.”

“Fine.
I’ll be ready.”

They started toward the parking lot, walking at a forty-five degree angle away from one another.

Reaching their cars, they unlocked their doors and opened them, then stood looking at each other across the lot.

“Hey, Bess?”


llat
”...
gggreater
-than It was a sterling, clear moment, the kind lovers remember for years after, for no particular reason except that in the midst of it, Cupid seemed to have released his arrow and watched to see what mischief it might arouse.
“Would you call tomorrow a date?”
Michael called.

The arrow hit Bess smack in the heart. She smiled and replied, “No, but Lisa would. Good night, Michael.”

To Lisa, spending her wedding eve in her childhood home seemed
meet
. Things were much as they’d been when she was a teenager. Randy was down in his roam with his radio tuned low. Mom was in her bathroom cleansing off her makeup. It almost seemed as if Dad would shut off the hall light, stop in the doorway of her room, and say, “
G’night
, honey.”

She looked around her room. Same pale blue flowered wallpaper.
Same tiered bedspread.
Same crisscross curtains. Same rocking chair in the corner . . . . She went and sat down in it, facing her closet, where her wedding gown now hung on the door.

She felt ready for marriage: Nostalgia was fun, but it failed to beckon her into those bygone days. She was happy to be
altarbound
, happy to be in love. Bess appeared in the doorway rubbing lotion on her face. “You look all grown up sitting there,” she said.

“I feel all grown up. I was just thinking how absolutely ready I am for marriage. It’s a wonderful feeling.”

Bess went to Lisa and kissed the top of her head.

“You know what I’m happiest about, though?”

Lisa asked.
“You and Dad.
It’s so great to see you side by side again.”

“We’re getting along remarkably well.”

“Well, hey, that’s a start, isn’t it?”

“Is there anything you want me to do for you tomorrow? I’m taking the whole day off, so I’ve got time.”

“I don’t think so. It’s hair in the morning and be at the church by flue for pictures.”

“Well,” Bess said, “I’m going to get a full night’s rest and wake up bright and early. Sweet dreams, little bride. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

The light over the kitchen stove was still on. Bess went down to turn it off. It was rare that Randy was home at this hour, so she indulged herself and continued down to the walkout level, where to she knocked softly on his door. Music played low. A light was on, but no answer came.

She opened the door and peeked inside.

Randy lay
an
his bed, facing the wall, still dressed.

Her son - so proud, so hurt, so unwilling to bend.
She didn’t know how to handle this young man
,
 
who
hovered on a brink where an influence in any direction might decide his fate for years to come. She saw clearly that Randy could be a failure-in human relations, in business, and most important
,
 
in
personal happiness.

If he fails, Ill be part of the reason.

She studied him a moment more, turned out the lamp, and quietly slipped from the room.

 

Chapter Ten

 

THE next day Bess had her hair appointment, followed.
by
nails, hen last-minute wedding errands to run. BY QUARTER
to four I
she was frazzled. Lisa wasn’t home yet, and Randy kept asking for things-an emery board, some mouthwash, a shoehorn.

Lisa returned, the calmest one of the trio, and hummed while putting on her makeup and donning her gown. She dropped her shoes and makeup into her overnight bag and arranged everything I in the front hall for removal to the car when her father came. He rang the bell at precisely four forty-flue.

Upstairs, Bess’s stomach went fluttery.

She hurried to the window and held back the curtain.

There on the street were two white limousines.

Downstairs, Michael was entering the house for the first time since he’d collected his power tools and left for good. She forced herself to take one deep breath, then collected her purse and hurried out of her room.

At the top of the stairs, she stopped. Below her, in the front entry, Michael, smiling, handsome, dressed in an ivory tuxedo and apricot bow tie, was hugging Lisa. For that moment it seemed Bess was looking down at herself.
The familiar dress, the handsome man, the two of them smiling and elated.

“Oh, Daddy, really?”
Lisa was squealing.

“Two limos!”
She wriggled from his embrace and danced outside.

Michael watched his daughter,
then
turned to look at the place he’d once called home. Bess remained motionless, gazing down at his wide shoulders in the tuxedo. He, too, stood motionless, taking in his surroundings like a man who had missed them very much.

Two things happened at once: Lisa came in from outside and Randy arrived from downstairs. Randy halted abruptly at the sight of his father standing in the front hall.

Michael spoke first. “Hello, Randy.”

“Hi.”

Neither of them moved toward the other. An awkward pause ensued, and Lisa spoke. “Hey, Randy, look what Mom and Dad ordered-two limos!”

Bess started down the stairs, and Lisa smiled up at her. “Mom, this is just great!”

Michael looked up, taking in Bess’s pale peach suit and matching pumps, the soft smile on her lips. She stopped on the last step, her hand on the newel post. Their gazes riveted; an idiot could have detected the magnetism between them.

“Hello, Michael,” Bess said quietly.

“Bess, you look sensational.” He smiled at her for interminable seconds before becoming aware that his children were observing. “Well, rd
say
we all look great.” He stepped back.

“Absolutely,” Bess said. “Now we should go.
Pictures at five.”

“Haw
are
we doing this?” Randy asked as they headed out to the waiting cars. Liveried drivers were standing beside them.
”,
Michael said, “Your mother and I thought we’d ride in one, and Randy, you can escort Lisa . . . if that’s okay with you.”

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