Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 01 - The Legitimate Way (11 page)

They all sat in a stunned silence. Sally’s first thought was odd. Her sister, Madelyn, would be pleased. There was no reason for being involved with these people assembled in the waiting room. She checked her watch. Three o’clock in the morning was when most births occur, maybe deaths too. Without the bookman, would the people in the room continue to associate with each other?

Henry stood. “I’ll attend to everything.” Harvey accompanied him out of the waiting room.

“Take Penny home,” Sally told Simon and Mark.

John drove Sally to her condominium. “He wasn’t a perfect man.” She kept saying, feeling disloyal but needing to speak the truth. “He wasn’t a saint.”

“Robert was your friend,” John said. “And you were his friend when he needed you most.”

Deep within her bones, Sally knew Robert would always, into eternity, be counted as a friend. But he wasn’t perfect. Neither was she, but she was still sober. She thanked God and struggled with her anger against Robert’s way of living, trying to let her resentments fade. “I really need a meeting.”

“At four o’clock in the morning?”

Sally almost laughed. “You’re right.”

At her address, John opened the Honda’s passenger door. Sally didn’t let go of his hand. They walked to her front doorway arm-in-arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Then he kissed her soundly with a comforting embrace before letting her go.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Waterloo Cemetery

First Friday in October

The funeral service at the Waterloo gravesite was short. Tall evergreens swayed on the cemetery’s hill under a harsh October sky. The frost-yellowed grass crunched under their footfalls. Hands were stuffed in pockets or turning up collars against the wind.

“We loved him,” Judge Wilcox said. “We eulogized him, now we’re burying him; but Robert Koelz will continue to live among us as long as we live. Let’s adjourn to the shop for a farewell drink.”

Sally did not need the drink, or rather, she needed the drink, but a drunken life was not an option for her, not anymore. Without Robert, the entire center of her social activities, after Danny died and apart from AA, was destroyed. Henry was nice enough, but Sally didn’t respect his unhappy life with his moneyed wife. Harvey was incorrigible, not anyone she would want to invite for dinner. Ed’s wife wouldn’t let Sally adopt her husband. Penny’s life, even Mary Jo’s was of no interest to her. Robert was gone.

John drove her from the cemetery to the bookshop. Was she regressing into the scenes of her high-school days? His bald profile seemed alien, but friendly. Would they develop a friendship? “I’ll be right in,” she said. “I need to make an AA call.”

Sitting in the car, she called three phone numbers of AA women. Each sympathized; reminding her the death of a close friend was not a reason to drink. There were no acceptable reasons for an alcoholic to take the next, first drink. She decided the youngest sounding woman, Grace, would be the best one to sponsor her; the other two were not heterosexual.

When Sally explained a high-school friend was with her, the young woman reminded her, “God, too, is standing firm beside you. How far along are you in the Steps?”

“I’ve gone through all twelve.”

“Read me Step One and when you call tomorrow we’ll talk about your thoughts about the step.”

“I don’t carry my book with me.”

“I think you should memorize them for the future. ‘We admitted we were powerless over alcohol--that our lives had become unmanageable.’ Call me tomorrow morning.”

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

After Sally dragged her reluctant body up the bookshop’s two flights of stairs, she could see the grieving crew was well into their sauce. Sally thanked God she processed enough sense to talk to an AA person before attempting to commune with the drinking bookshop customers. Henry Schaefer was sitting in Robert’s chair. Penny, accompanied by her husband and brother leaned against the back bookcase. The Tedler brothers were replaying Ricco’s capture. Andrew sat in the place of honor, as Sally always deemed Robert’s side chair. He relinquished the chair to Sally and then stood with Harvey and Henry near the
Liberty Street windows where Judge Wilcox was enthroned at the drop-leaf secretary. John unfolded a chair and placed it next to Sally.

Faces were marked with their loss. Were they weighing the possibilities of their friendships lasting past the death of Robert Koelz? Then Mary Jo arrived, alive as you please. “I’m so sorry.” She repeated the same words for nearly a half hour until the cream sherry began to work on her nerves, too. “I tried to find a babysitter for Ricco’s children, but they wouldn’t leave their Aunt Harriett so she could come with me.”

“Ricco been arrested for assaulting Robert. He’s off the streets, so you are safe,” Sylvester Tedler was drawn to Mary Jo’s side.

Andrew pushed Judge Wilcox out of his chair in order to offer it to Mary Jo. “There’s a body in
Missouri I need to dig up to get a conviction of murder.” Henry handed Judge Wilcox the phone. After he hung up, the judge told Andrew, “The exhumation papers will be ready in the morning.”

“I’ll press charges for abuse,” Mary Jo said, “if you promise to keep him locked up.”“A bit late,” Sally said, more sober than the judge.

Penny pointed to Sally. “Your mouth, the lip line, is the same as Mary Jo’s and mine.”

Harvey stood clasping his vest labels, elbows extended as if he were mimicking a rooster about to crow. “Robert loved his women.”

“And men,” Henry said quietly.

“Thank God, Robert taught us to recognize men as human beings,” Sally said. Mary Jo and Penny nodded their agreements.

As evening descended on the bookshop, Andrew followed John and Sally down the steps to the street. “I arranged with Sylvester Tedler to keep Mary Jo under protective custody.”

Sally agreed, “Even after he’s incarcerated, Ricco could hire people to harm her.”

“Are the results of his second wife’s autopsy going to be faxed to you?” John asked.

“They are, but I was hoping I could send Sam Tedler with you two to Kansas City.” Andrew straightened his vest. “I know it’s an imposition, but Mary Jo’s suspicions would be further corroborated if Ricco’s first wife could describe her sister’s injuries prior to her death at Ricco’s hand.”

John answered for them. “We’re starting to like our detective work, aren’t we?”

Sally slipped her arm around John’s waist. “You want us to convince his first wife to come to Ann Arbor? When should we leave?”

“As soon as possible. Judge Wilcox said the necessary paperwork should arrive in Kansas City in the morning. If you could bring the children, who I understand all have the name Ricco and witnessed his violence against their pets and their mother, I think the jury would be willing to give Ricco a life sentence for murder. As soon as I receive the autopsy report, I can bring charges against him and keep him in jail.”

Sally hugged the lawyer. “Robert trusted your judgment.”

“High praise.” Andrew turned away and briskly walked to his car.

“Too bad, men aren’t allowed to show their emotions.” John shielded Sally from the stiff night breeze. “For instance, I want to be engaged to you. Could I please, please buy you a ring?”

Sally leaned back against his shoulder as he kissed her. “I think that’s appropriate.” Sally told him after a second kiss. “Separate rooms on the road, until we’re married.”

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

As Sally snuggled under the covers, she repeated the four words of her daily, AA Tenth Step, wondering if indeed she acted out of any fear, self-pity, anger, or resentment. Before her mind let her rest in sleep, she asked God’s forgiveness for the resentment she still felt against Robert for ending his life too early by not admitting his addiction to alcohol and for her anger toward men like Mary Jo’s crazy husband.

Ann Arbor

October, Last Saturday

Sally’s grief siphoned energy faster than she could replace her sagging spirits with prayer and sleep. She called her sponsor at eight in the morning. “I didn’t drink at my friend’s wake.”

“Good morning to you, too, Sally. Sounds like everyone else was drinking. I need to tell you this, but you’re going to lose a lot of your old drinking friends. But, taking their inventory as we call judging in AA lingo is not going to add to your spirituality.”

“I wanted you
not
to worry about the company I’m keeping, to be ‘rigorously honest.’ Do you think we could move on to the Second Step?”

“Your book is next to you, right? You chopped off the last word of the sentence, ‘rigorously honest and tolerant.’”

Sally laughed. She liked the cheerful child. “You know I’m sixty-five.”

“Let’s see, I’m supposed to say you don’t look it, but we haven’t met. Step Two: ‘Came to believe that a
Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”

“I am a believer. I accepted Jesus as my Savior when I was twenty.”

“When you were drinking, did you consider yourself insane?”

“When I was driving home drunk after being awakened twice by drivers blowing their horns because I was on the wrong side of the road, I realized not stopping the car was insane.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill anyone.”

“I think my mother’s prayers saved me. Now I’m glad I’m an alcoholic. My drinking brought me back to the Lord.”

“I use the AA group as my higher power.” The young girl coughed. “But I’m keeping an open mind about the possibility of something else out there in the universe to guide me.”

“Seek and you will find,” Sally said. She was surprised her sponsor’s spiritual life was based entirely on AA. “How often do you attend meetings? I only go once a week to King of Kings, if I’m in town.”

“Think about adding one more meeting a week. Call me tomorrow and we’ll tackle Step Three, again.”

The doorbell rang. A thankful bit of brightness appeared on Sally’s doorstep. John arrived with his arms filled with flowers. “The neighbors are going to think I died.” Sally smiled his gift of a dozen white roses.

“Naw.” John shut the door behind him before wrapping his arms around Sally and the flowers. “They’ll just notice some fool is courting you.”

“You’re not a fool.” Sally kissed him as proof. John followed her into the kitchen side of the front entrance, as she secured the last empty vase in the house, ran the water, clipped the end of each of the long stems and arranged the delicate white buds to their best advantage. “The table is already too full of flower vases from Robert’s funeral.”

“How about upstairs?”

Sally laughed. “You take them up, while I start a pot of coffee. Put them on the drafting table in the study.”

“Are you packed?” John called from the stairs. When he returned to the first floor, he sat down at the dining room table to await his coffee. His face showed he was rehearsing his next sentence, or move.

“Never mind.” Sally stopped him. “We are not going to venture into the bedroom together until we’re married. My sponsor says we should wait. And I agree.”

“Am I going to meet this human obstacle?”

“My sponsor?” Sally went over to the sad guy and sat on his lap, as if she were a manipulating girl of sixteen. “I hope you’ll be satisfied just being around me for a while.” Sally watched his nostrils expand as he inhaled her old-fashioned Arpege perfume. The sweet man was besotted with her. She placed his hand under her brassiere. “When are you going to give me the ring you promised? I’d like to get Ricco dispatched into whatever hole they can dig for him, before I concentrate on making more happy arrangements.”

“Deal.” John brightened. “You’ll help me pick out a ring? Can I tell James yet? Where should we get married, in Illinois or Michigan?”

“Whoa.” Sally laughed. “Ring first; tell James, the rest is up in the air, okay?”

John held her fast. “One more kiss.”

She complied with warmth and enthusiasm. She reluctantly left his lap. Standing, she pressed his dear, baldhead to her bosom. Knowing their trance would be broken, she said, “I’ve invited Sam Tedler and his brother to dinner tonight. Were you there when I promised Sam?”

“Can’t remember. My head is swimming with ideas for our future. I know you’ve been to Europe.” He brushed his hands over his slick head as if to clear away traces of her fingertips in order to think clearly. “Florence is so peaceful. Ireland doesn’t require any language skills and the people talk to you like southern Illinois farmers. Say hello and they tell you their entire life stories, non-stop. Have you been to Rome?”

“No. Do you want to honeymoon there?”

“That’s a great idea,” John said, as if Sally thought up the trip’s destination.

After spending all day helping her shop for dinner, vacuuming, and setting the table for a salad and a chicken potpie, John asked if he could turn on the evening news. Sally liked a man in the house. She felt more focused, less inclined to worry over the future or the past, less likely to weep about Robert’s recent death, or Danny’s. After Sally popped the promised chicken potpie in the oven, she joined John on the couch, draping her arm over his knee to make sure he knew. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“You just want an errand boy.” John smiled and lifted her hand to his lips. He ran his finger down the inside of Sally’s arm all the way to her elbow, as he watched her tension increase by the widening of her eyes. “I think you’re a very alive woman.”

The doorbell rang or they might have proceeded faster down the warm path than Sally intended. Sam Tedler walked in first.

His brother, Sylvester, lagged behind. “So sorry for you loss,” Sylvester said. “You live in a cartoon,” Sylvester said, looking at the walls. “I mean the colors …
.
”

Sally was pleased. “I’m glad you like them. The barn red in the kitchen reminds me to stop and not go in there. I don’t like to cook, normally. When the painter opened the can he said, ‘Well, this has got to be wrong.’” Sally laughed. “I like yellow in the dining room. I think food should be eaten in a cheery mood, don’t you? You cannot paint walls white in
Michigan, because the cloudy days turn everything grey, so all the ceilings and the front room walls are sky blue.”

“The upstairs is all pink,” John said, without thinking; then he added, “I took flowers upstairs for Sally’s study.”

“It looks like a florist shop went out of business.” Sam stepped into the dining room.

Sally batted Sam’s shoulder. “Actually, the paint upstairs is called Coral Rose. Come and sit in the front room. The oven needs ten more minutes.”

Sam chose one of the red recliners. “Have you two set a date?”

“No,” Sally said, as John came to stand next to her slipping his arm around her waist. “We have to wait to put Ricco in his place.”

“Good idea,” Sylvester said, sitting in the matching recliner. “I mean congratulations, Mr. Nelson.”

“Are all the paintings yours?” Sam asked.

“No,” Sally said. “Mine are the glorified cartoons. I like Gauguin and see most things I love in basic colors. The texture of oil paint lets me feel I’m sculpting on the canvass. After Danny died, painting cheered me up.”

“With Robert gone, will you get back to painting?” Sylvester asked. “I like the blue vases in that painting.”

“As soon as you marry, I’ll give it to you as a present.”

“What if he doesn’t marry?” John asked.

“Then, he’ll have to visit us to enjoy my paintings.”

Over dinner, Sally reminisced about earlier years when she spent time with the boys and their single mother. “Remember when I insisted you both learn how to swim at the Y?”

“Mother was afraid of the water.” Sylvester turned to John.

Sam helped himself to another portion of the chicken pot pie. “You made the Y give us scholarships?”

“They wanted to help kids learn how to swim. Your mother worked hard. Wasn’t she going to school, too?”

“She wanted us to see how hard she worked getting a college degree as an adult,” Sylvester said. Sally refilled Sylvester’s plate. John shook his head no, but Sally knew he was waiting for chocolate cake. “Mother’s happily married.” Sylvester’s table manners were more refined than Sam’s.

“I’m glad.” Sally couldn’t remember how many months passed since she heard from their mother. “Does she still live in Seattle?”

“
Bellevue,” Sam said. “She’s married to a retired math professor.”

“Do you call her often? You’ll have to give me her new address.”

“She’s pretty busy,” Sylvester said.

Sam looked askance at his brother. “I call her, at least once a week.”

“She always wants to know who we’re dating.” Sylvester shrugged his shoulders.

“Sylvester thinks she’s still keeping tabs on us. I think she just wants to share our lives.”

“Sylvester, you’re as judgmental as you think your mother is.” Sally brought out plates of cakes and ice cream to make the medicine of her own hypercritical words go down easier.

“Do you think she is an alcoholic?” Sylvester asked.

“It’s not for me to say. I’ve told you two before you should both go to Alanon meetings. You’ll be welcome there, because one friend admits she is an alcoholic. Me.”

“Maybe when we get back from
Missouri,” Sam said.

“I won’t be able to go,” Sylvester said. “I’m on assignment to keep Mary Jo safe. And when I’m off duty, I’m busy with night school. I want to become a forensic pathologist.”

“That will take forever,” John said.

“Don’t discourage the man. I’m proud of you, Sylvester. You hang in there.”

The boy actually smiled. “Thanks.”

“How long will we be in
Missouri?” Sam patted his big brother on the back.

“I have no idea. Do you know, John?”

“Not me. I’m just going along for the ride.”

“You were pretty tough in
Arizona. “Remember threatening Simon Goldberg in Texas?” Sally laughed.

“That old fool tried to drive us into the ground.” John turned to Sylvester, growling in remembrance of the harrowing car ride.

“Penny invited us for Sunday dinner.” Sylvester patted his satiated stomach.

“We’re going, too,” Sally said. “Monday, Sam, we plan to leave for
Missouri.”

“At least I’ll be well fed. I almost died from starvation in
Arizona. My stomach thought my head was cut off.”

“Remember Mother Dade frightening the chief of the tribe?” John started collecting the plates from the table.

“She buffaloed me too.” Sam said.

“At least we ate well in
Texas.” John herded them into the front room. “I never would have guessed Sonja was an arsonist.”

“Just a fool in love.” Sally smiled at John.

* * *

Ann Arbor, St. Andrews Episcopal Church

Last Sunday in October

Sally picked John up for
eight o’clock services at the church. “I was raised Catholic, too,” he said. “During the sixties, I realized women should be able to serve as priests. I miss the traditions.”

In church Sally spoke softly. “I missed the liturgy. An emptiness filled the place where all the poetry resided. This church was built right after the Civil War. I imagine women in hoopskirts waltzing down the aisles. The wires were collapsible, like telescopes.”

After communion, Sally knelt to ask the Lord to keep her safely beside Him, in His community, next to His heart. She also prayed for Robert’s soul to find the Lord’s light and eternal peace. The service helped her deal with Robert’s absence on her side of the shadow of death.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

When John and Sally arrived for dinner in the evening at the Goldberg’s second floor apartment, Sally was surprised at the sophisticated style of the furnishings. “Penny, this looks like a picture right out of ‘Architectural Digest.’”

“Penny added all the trees,” Simon said. “It’s a good thing we left
Texas. She never would have been happy in a flat wasteland.”

The corners of the living room sported fig trees and other tall plants. Every table held ferns, cactus, flowering annuals. The furniture was a little less sparse than Simon’s ranch house, but mostly visitors were greeted with greens. Sally suspected Penny’s mother divested her summer porches of wicker furniture. The couch and chairs’ cushions were covered in light blue velour. Accents around the room, flower pots, pillows, even the matting around the framed photographs of Penny’s extensive Catholic family were a bright basic yellow.

“Up here among the tree tops we don’t need drapes.” Penny spun around in the middle of the wood floor. “The plants love all this light from the windows.”

Sally noticed the inside greens made a stunning contrast against the colorful backdrop of autumn leaves remaining on the trees outside the windows. The plants would also soften the snow-covered branches of the coming winter. “You’ve made a lovely home.” Sally sat on the couch next to John. “When is the baby due?”