Nothing But Trouble (28 page)

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Authors: Bettye Griffin

BOOK: Nothing But Trouble
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Chapter 38
“
S
o, in answer to your question,” Dana said, “that's why I don't see my father.” She turned onto her side to face Gil. Light filled her bedroom, but by now the strongest rays the room received in the morning had faded.
In another half hour it would be noon. Gil had an off-site meeting at nine, and when it ended he came directly to her place. This private time with him gave Dana the only outlet she had, and it thrilled her to know they still had another hour and a half to be together before he had to return to the bank. It meant working later into the evening than she preferred, but the opportunity to be with Gil made it worth it.
“Wow,” Gil said. “I can't imagine saying that to Vanessa. I can't argue that if I had to lose one of them, I'd rather it be Irene, but it's not something I would say aloud to either of them. Some feelings are so painful to admit that you never want to share them.” He positioned his arm so that his hand rested on her shoulder. “So what happens now? Do you think you'll ever talk with him again?”
“It's not like we don't talk, Gil. We just haven't had much of a relationship since that day. I know from the therapy I've had that he's ashamed that I heard him say he wished I'd been the one who died. But he's never come to me and apologized, never acknowledged that he spoke out of grief. Nothing. I can't tell you how much that hurts. He'd rather let me out of his life completely than admit he was wrong.”
“Maybe he's too embarrassed, or ashamed, to bring it up. Have you thought about calling him or going to see him to talk about it? That was twenty-some years ago, Dana. He's got to be well into his sixties by now. You'll never get those years back, whether you make up or not.”
Dana made a face. “Quite honestly, Gil, I've learned to live with it. Besides, he had a perfect opportunity to reach out to me when Kenny died.” She blinked, aware that she'd said
died
, not
accident.
This made the third time. She'd said it to Cécile, then to the officer who investigated her slashed tires, and now to Gil. Her subconscious had finally accepted Kenny's death.
“But he didn't,” she continued. “He came to the funeral, expressed condolences, and I haven't heard from him since. Unless you count the Christmas card he sent, and that was written out by his wife, so I don't think that counts.”
“I guess I can't blame you, but let me ask you this: How would you feel if you learned today that he had died?”
“I'd take Brittany and go to the funeral, and then that chapter of my life would be closed for good.”
Gil's arm tightened around her. “Dana, you might deny this, but I can tell you're still hurting.”
“Damn right it still hurts. It'll always hurt. But like I said before, I've learned to live with it. He obviously isn't going to have any change of heart.”
They lay quietly for a few moments, and then Gil said, “I'd like to be back at the office by one-thirty. What say we get dressed, and I'll take you to get something to eat?”
“Sure. Just give me a minute. I'm way too comfy to just hop up and start getting dressed.” She yawned. “Excuse me.”
“You've had no more problems with vandalism?”
She shook her head. “Everything has been fine. The clients reissued the checks, and the motion detectors only came on once because a stray cat wandered near the house.” She paused. “I still feel guilty for letting you loan me the money to pay the electrician for installing the lights. I have a credit card, but it's hard for me to bring myself to use it. Kenny and I never charged anything unless we absolutely had to, and then we paid the bill as soon as it came in. It's always in the back of my mind that if I'd been saddled with credit-card debt on top of my living expenses, I never would have made it on my own. I'm terrified of spending money I don't have.”
“Don't feel guilty, Dana. That's a good policy to follow.”
“It wasn't so much the cost of the lights themselves as the labor costs. I promise I'll pay you back when I get my next paycheck.”
“I told you before, Dana, don't worry about it. It's important to me that you and Brittany are safe. In fact, you might want to consider getting an alarm system. Monitoring fees are only about twenty-five dollars a month, and the bigger companies will do free installation if you sign a two-year contract.”
“Well, we'll see what happens after I get my split of CDN's earnings next June.” She rolled over on her back and stretched her body, from the tips of her raised fingers to her toes. “I'm just relieved that my troubles seem to have stopped.”
“I think I put the fear of God into Irene. She put on a brave front, claimed to be innocent, but she couldn't hide her emotions. A reaction of a second's duration was sufficient to give her away.”
“That's wonderful, Gil. Do you think she'll just give up?”
“I like to think so, but I'm not sure. In the meantime, let's continue doing what we've been doing. I don't want us to be out together at night unless I can bring you home.”
“Oh, Gil.” Her shoulders slumped with disappointment. “I feel like we're still at Irene's mercy.”
“Just hold on a little longer. I've got a plan to put a stop to this as well.” He playfully slapped her butt. “Okay, that's enough relaxing. Let's get some lunch.”
Chapter 39
M
icheline made sure she arrived at Bennigan's and was shown to a table before Cécile showed up. She felt that the table helped hide her weight gain, but Cécile's sharp eyes didn't miss anything. Right after the waitress delivered their entrees Cécile cast a curious glance at Micheline's upper arms, which had grown in size. “Micheline, have you gained weight?”
Micheline silently cursed herself for not wearing long sleeves, but in Northern Florida in early November, the afternoon temperatures hovered around seventy. “Yes, I have,” she admitted. “I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm not eating any more than I usually do, but I'm getting heavier and heavier, especially around the middle. I made an appointment to see the doctor next week.”
“Are you sure you aren't eating more? I'm sure you were disappointed when Errol didn't give you an engagement ring.”
“I wasn't expecting a ring from Errol, Cécile.” Micheline lied like a sleeping dog, but damned if she'd tell Cécile how dashed her hopes had been when she and Errol returned from South Florida and she had no proposal and no large diamond for the fourth finger of her left hand. “So I have no reason to drown my sorrows in food. But I am getting concerned about my health. Not only am I putting on weight, but my boobs have gotten tender and a little swollen.” She chuckled. “If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was pregnant.”
Cecile calmly took a bite of her salad. “Don't be too sure you're not.”
“That's ridiculous, Cécile. I haven't missed any periods.” She still remembered the day her period came on time, two weeks after the condom incident with Vic. She'd treated herself to a sinfully rich piece of chocolate cheesecake to celebrate.
“If you're like Mama and me you don't have to. I had my periods all through my pregnancies, and so did Mama.”
“Periods through pregnancy? What kind of freaky thing is that?”
“It's not so rare, Michie. Haven't you read articles about women who went to their doctors for what they thought was indigestion, when they were actually in labor? The only way to go through nine months of pregnancy and not know it is if your periods continue the whole time.”
“And to have a damn big stomach,” Micheline muttered.
“Well, that too, I suppose. When I got pregnant with Josie I figured something was going on because I was tired all the time, and nauseated. The smell of coffee brewing first thing in the morning made me vomit. That sent me to the doctor.”
“Well, I'm never nauseous.”
Cécile looked at her with a smile, like she was enjoying the whole thing. “Every woman is different. But do you find you get tired easier, and that you sleep longer than you used to?”
“Well, yes. But I'm sure I'm not pregnant,” Micheline added quickly.
“It wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it? You and Errol have been dating for what, six months now?”
Micheline dropped her eyes to look at the roast beef au jus sandwich she'd ordered. The hearty aroma of the sauce floated up toward her nostrils, but she'd just lost her appetite.
Vic drummed a pencil on his desk. He couldn't imagine why Micheline had called him this morning and requested to see him. Three or four months had passed since their little fling out at the beach. At the time he'd made a mental note of the name of the law firm she worked for in case he wanted to contact her again, but once he came to his senses he knew the only one he wanted was Norell. Their marriage had survived its rocky period and was now back on track.
His gut told him something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out anything else. Why would any woman want to contact a man she'd slept with months after the fact? She couldn't be pregnant, or else she would have told him before. Did she want to have a second go-round? Sure, that possibility appealed to his male ego, but that didn't make sense, either. She'd gone through a considerable amount of trouble looking for him in the Yellow Pages. The only way she'd been able to do that was because he'd told her his profession.
He began to relax. Maybe she knew someone who'd gotten locked up and wanted to arrange bail. It could be that simple, and probably was. He needed to stop overreacting.
Vic put down the pencil and got back to work.
 
 
“We have a problem,” Micheline announced the moment she crossed into his office.
He quickly got up and went to the door. Bertha Franklin, his assistant, had heard Micheline's statement, judging from her curious expression. Seventy-six years old and sharp as a tack, the widow of a bail bondsman, she worked twenty hours a week keeping his office running smoothly. “Excuse me, Bertha,” he said as he closed the door. He turned to Micheline and gestured for her to sit, then strode around to sit behind the large, cluttered desk. Micheline sat in one of the two chairs facing his desk. She watched as he passed the vacant chair to move behind the desk, wondering if he felt safer with the large piece of furniture between them.
“What's on your mind, Micheline?” he asked easily.
“It's not what's in my mind that I'm concerned about. I'm pregnant, Vic.”
His forehead wrinkled slightly. “I don't get it. Why are you sharing this with me? It's been months since you and I were together that one time.”
“The night the condom broke.”
That got a reaction out of him. His lazy grin dissolved. “Yes, but again, that was months ago. If you'd conceived then you would have known a few weeks later.”
“That's what I thought, too. But apparently there's a family trait I didn't know about. Women in my family don't miss periods, even when they're pregnant.”
Vic's mouth dropped open. “You mean you got pregnant that night, and you're just finding out about it now? Doesn't that make it too late to do anything about it?”
“That's why I'm here.”
He got up and walked around to the front of the desk, sitting on its edge as he faced her. “I don't mean to sound harsh, Micheline, but somehow I don't think I'm the only man you went to bed with. So why do you think I'm the one with the guilty sperm?”
“Because you were the only one with a broken condom. I'm not trying to sell you a bill of goods, Vic. And in case you're thinking of having me followed, I'll tell you straight out that I'm seeing one other man, and I've never slept with him.”
He could just imagine why. The unsuspecting slob was probably loaded.
She's holding out for the gold, the little slut.
“Of course, we can always have tests done. I can't say that I'd blame you.”
“Damn, Micheline! I don't want a baby, and I'm pretty sure you don't want one either.”
“This is a huge inconvenience, but I don't see where there's much I can do about it this late in the game.”
“Do you plan to keep it?”
“Of course not,” she said impatiently. “Once the little devil is born I'm through with it.”
Vic's senses suddenly perked up as an idea began to form. “Have you made any arrangements for the baby's care?”
“I haven't done anything. I just found out, and I wanted to find you. Thank goodness you told me what you did for a living, or else I would've had to hang around The Landing and hope you showed up, or place a personal ad in
Folio
, which you probably never would have seen.”
“Listen, Micheline. If you plan to give up the baby, give it to me.”
“What?”
“Let me adopt the baby.”
She looked at him suspiciously, like she was trying to figure out his angle ... and what was in it for her. Micheline was the type to always think someone had an angle.
“Why would you want to adopt this baby?” she asked.
Vic decided she deserved to know. “My wife hasn't been able to conceive,” he said. “It's pretty much a hopeless case. It's been very painful for her. She's been burying herself in work and in alcohol, and it hasn't done our marriage any good. A baby would solve all our problems.”
“And you plan on just waltzing in and announcing, ‘Look, honey, at what I found on the doorstep?'”
“I haven't worked out the details, but why shouldn't we have a baby that's half mine?” At the dubious look she shot him he added, “Micheline, I'd be willing to have a contract drawn up laying everything on the line. I'm talking about paying reasonable expenses, like your out-of-pocket medical expenses and even your living expenses if you want to take a leave of absence from work.”
She shrugged. “And what do I get out of it?”
“I'm not going to haggle with you, Micheline. If you don't feel that knowing your baby is in a secure, loving home is worth anything, this won't be a good idea.” He didn't like the glint in her eye, like it had just occurred to her that she could show her soon-to-be bulging belly to desperate couples and take bids. “I won't lie to you. My wife will never be completely happy unless she has a child to call her own. You might not believe this, but I really do love my wife. It's not my nature to go out and pick women up in restaurants. I'd never done it before that night with you, nor have I done it since. I'd like to save my marriage, and this is just what it needs. It's rare for black women to give up their babies, even if they're mere teenagers.
“But I won't be taken advantage of,” he added. “If you don't want to cooperate, I guess my wife will keep working like crazy until she can get every doctor in Jacksonville subscribing to her transcription service.” He noticed a strange look come over her and realized she probably didn't know what he was talking about.
“My wife transcribes medical records,” he explained. “Apparently there has to be a written record of each patient visit and everything that happens during a hospital admission. It's a booming business behind the scenes.”
“Oh, I see.” She sighed, an action that even under the circumstances Vic found sexy. “I need some time to think about your offer, Vic.”
He quickly forced himself to remember that the sexy woman across from him couldn't be trusted. “Of course. I'm not rushing you. But if you're going to give up the baby anyway, wouldn't you feel better if you knew at least one of the people who would be raising him or her?”
“That does offer me a degree of comfort, yes.”
The hell it does.
Vic knew that air of reluctance Micheline gave off came from hopes of getting him to sweeten the pot. “I'd like to consult an attorney and see what is standard in these cases. But there's something we need to settle right now, or else there's no point in going forward.”
“And what is that?” Micheline's tone held an element of surprise, the way people look when they think they've got you by the balls. But while he might consider any reasonable counteroffer she made regarding her expenses, he wasn't budging on this point. Vic figured if it wasn't meant to be, it wouldn't be. Micheline might think she held all the cards, but she didn't.
He looked her dead in the eyes. “I want you to give up all parental rights to the baby at the time you hand him or her over.”
She appeared unruffled. “I'm pretty sure the law says I have six months. What puts you above the law?”
“I may not be above the law, but that's the way I want it. I don't want my wife getting attached to an infant and considering it to be hers and then have you waltz in and say you want him back. It would kill her.”
Micheline took a moment to digest that. “Here's my cell number,” she said, scribbling a number with no name on a sheet of notepaper on his desk. “Do what you have to do and let me know the deal, and we'll go from there.”
“All right. Give me a week.” He helped her up, thinking how strange it was that one night of intimacy between strangers resulted in their becoming parents together. He cared nothing for Micheline. Yeah, she was pretty. Yeah, she was sexy. And she'd been great in bed, but overall she had just been a way of getting back at Norell for putting her work first. The whole thing had been pretty childish of him.

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