The Game of Denial (12 page)

"Just Joan will be fine, Anita. Did you have a pleasant flight?"

"Oh yes," Anita said. "Ms. Ochoa was very kind to me." She leaned slightly forward as if preparing to impart a secret. "I've never flown on such a small airplane before."

"Well, I hope it was everything you expected," Joan said, rolling her eyes. She looked at Ron. "And how is Mother?"

"I made sure she took her meds before we left," he said. He glanced at an expensive-looking wristwatch. "Almost time for her next dose."

When Joan turned toward the house, Ron took her arm and said, "Can we talk privately for a minute, Joan?"

"Of course, "Joan answered with a nod.

"I'll tell everyone that you'll both be in in a few minutes," Anita said as she started toward the door.

"Thanks, sweetie," Ron acknowledged with an affectionate smile.

Joan led Ron onto the now familiar path toward the stables. "Anita seems to be a nice woman," she said to break the silence.

"Where did you meet her?"

"At work. She's in the secretarial pool." He paused for a moment before adding, "I've asked her to marry me."

"Congratulations," Joan said.

"She turned me down."

Joan laughed. "Smart and pretty."

They stopped and Joan saw the sincere look on her brother's face.

"I love her, Joan."

"You've said the same thing twice before, honey. Remember Belinda and Suzanne?"

"Okay, okay. But now I realize I was only in lust those two times. I've never been in love in my entire fifty-two years."

"Does Anita love you?"

"She says she does."

"Then why turn you down?"

Ron had the same nervous habit as Joan and cleared his throat before answering. "She wants to make sure I've grown up and have sewn all my wild oats."

"She seems a little older than you're usual fare, maybe older than Charmaine."

"Look, Joan, I know Anita didn't go to Harvard, but she's so smart in other ways. The ways that count. She's still almost twenty years younger than I am, but she's a wonderful woman and, unlike Mother believes, is not after my money."

Joan laughed. "Mother must be having a hissy. A pervert daughter and a cradle robbing son. That almost makes my day! I wish Daddy was here to enjoy it."

"Anyway, Anita isn't why I needed to talk to you," Ron said as they continued walking. "It's about the company and you're still a major stockholder. I'm going to ask, no tell, Mother she needs to step down as the Chairman of the Board."

"That should go over well," Joan said.

"She won't agree to let us explore a couple of avenues that could be very profitable. She's stuck in the past."

"Have you presented her with the research to back your claim these areas would actually be profitable?"

"More than one time. I even made sure they were presented to the board by the head of our R&D department."

"How did the rest of the board react?"

"The majority was very excited about developing the new areas. But Mother convinced them it would be cost prohibitive. Personally, I think she's starting to lose it, Joan. What was presented was only an off-shoot of something we're already doing. Right now it's a very small off-shoot, but the potential is enormous."

"Why don't you send the research to my office? Tucker and I can go over everything and give you our opinion. I'm not familiar enough with Carmichael Industries to make an informed decision at this moment."

"I convinced Mother to place the ideas up for a stockholders' vote that will take place around the first of the year. I'll be interested to know what you think."

Joan took a deep breath and turned back toward the house. "Time to face the music, I suppose."

When they entered the living room, it looked as if Luella was holding court. She was firmly ensconced in a large wing-back chair in front of the now dormant fireplace. Evey, Brad, and Fran sat on the couch to her right while Charmaine and Meg shared a loveseat to her left. Giselle leaned back into an upholstered chair with Morgana in her lap and Mitchell seated on the floor at her feet. Beth and Tully leaned nonchalantly against the couch behind their mother. Joan helped Tucker move four dining room chairs for the rest of them. Joan took a chair next to the couch near Evey. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so uncomfortable and apprehensive. It was as if she knew something horrible was going to happen and was waiting for the shoe to finally drop.

Evey stood as the others were discussing the plans for the wedding. She leaned down behind Joan and touched her lightly on the shoulder to get her attention. Close to Joan's ear she said, "Your mother asked for tea. Would you like some as well? Otherwise, we have coffee or soft drinks." She turned her head toward Ron and Anita before glancing back at Joan.

"Coffee is fine," Joan said. "Do you need help?"

Evey shook her head, patted Joan on the shoulder, and walked toward the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with four cups and a glass. She set the glass on a small table next to Luella, handed one cup to Joan, then Ron and Anita before taking the last cup and resuming her place next to Joan on the couch.

Joan took a deep breath and ordered her body to relax. What was the worst that could happen in a room full of family members?

Luella brought her glass to her mouth and sipped her tea. She picked up a handkerchief and dabbed at her lips. She turned toward Evey, a tight smile crossing her lips when she saw how closely Evey was sitting to Joan. She cleared her throat and calmly asked, "So tell me, my dear, has my daughter made an indecent proposal to you yet? She is a pervert, you know, and you are quite attractive."

Coffee sprayed from Joan's mouth and she jumped to her feet. "Mother! How dare you? What the hell are you thinking?" Joan opened her mouth, wanting to say more, but closed it and set her cup down with a rattle. "Excuse me." She strode into the front hall and out the front door of the house, allowing the screen to slam closed. She ran down the steps and across the front lawn. She had no idea where she was going. She simply needed to get away. Whatever was happening inside the Chase home, Joan hoped it involved blood and the need to summon an ambulance.

AFTER JOAN'S ABRUPT departure, silence descended on the living room. Luella looked as if she didn't understand what she had said wrong. Tucker leaned closer to Giselle and she rose, taking her children with her. Evey set her cup on the table next to the couch and leaned forward.

Evey thought for a moment before speaking. "I hardly know what to say, Mrs. Carmichael. I assure you I am not a pervert, nor is your daughter. She lives her life openly and honestly, without the need of sneak attacks. You have entered my home as a guest and proceeded to insult me and question my morals in front of my children, as well as embarrassing your own child. I suspect that in the process you have only succeeded in making yourself look foolish. You risk alienating your grandchildren and great-grandchildren, as well." She stood and looked at Ron. "Mr. Carmichael, if I may, I believe your mother is exhausted from her trip and not thinking clearly. Perhaps she should be taken to her hotel to rest. Dinner will be served here this evening at seven if you would care to join us. Please excuse me."

"Mom?" Beth said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, dear. Thanks for asking." Evey picked up her cup and stopped long enough to pick up Joan's as she walked calmly toward her kitchen.

"I shouldn't have invited her," Fran said into Brad's chest. She looked up at him. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything," he smiled down at her.

Ron handed his car key to Anita while he moved to help his mother to her feet.

Evey left the house through the back door. She had no idea where Joan might have gone as she walked quickly toward the stables. From the end of the walkway she saw Ralph leaning against the gate to the last stall and heard repetitive popping sounds coming from inside. She quickened her steps. Ralph saw Evey striding toward him and stopped her before she could reach the stall.

"What's going on?" Evey asked.

"It's okay, Miz Evey. I'm watchin' her."

"Who?"

"Your house guest. She's a bit worked up. Been wallopin' that punchin' bag for nearly ten minutes non-stop. Don't look that strong, but she's powerful angry about somethin'."

"She has a good reason," Evey said. "Go back to work. I'll keep an eye on her." She patted Ralph on the back as he sauntered away. After a few minutes, the sounds inside the stall began to taper off. Evey started to step into the gateway, then heard a low guttural sound that grew louder, almost into a primal scream of rage followed by a final sharp, loud thwap. She peeked into the stall to see a stricken face still filled with anger. Joan clung to the heavy bag that was suspended from the beam running across the stall. The tracks from tears ran down her face and her clothing was soaked with perspiration. She pushed away from the bag, her long legs wobbling slightly as she held the bag with one gloved hand and prepared to strike it again with the other. She wiped the back of the glove across her face and through the hair now hanging limply across her forehead. Her hand lashed out one last time at the bag before it fell to her side. She brought a glove to her mouth, using her teeth to untie the knot at her wrist. She looked up and saw Evey watching, the redness of her face turning even deeper. She cleared her throat, a mannerism Evey had come to associate with nervousness.

"Let me help you get those gloves off," Evey said as she stepped into the stall.

"Thank you," Joan said stiffly, extending an arm.

"Feel better?" Evey asked as she worked at the knot.

"My deepest apologies for my mother," Joan said, standing straighter, but refusing to meet Evey's eyes.

"None needed."

"I...I...well, I don't know quite what to say. Humiliating me seems to be her greatest pleasure in life. I'll see to it she doesn't return here."

"She's Fran's grandmother."

"She only accepts that because Ron is Fran's biological father, not because she respects the memory of the woman who gave birth to her. She hates me."

Evey looked up at Joan. "I don't believe that. I agree she has issues..."

Evey held the glove as Joan pulled her hand out. "Issues my ass! She's a hateful old bitch who lives to make our lives miserable."

Evey took the other glove and began loosening the knot. "She might be back this evening for dinner."

"What did the kids say?"

"It got pretty quiet after you left."

"I don't know what to say to them. They know how she is, but that was truly a new low."

Evey removed the tape Ralph had put around Joan's hands to protect them. There were a few streaks of blood on the tape surrounding her right hand. Evey turned Joan's hand over. "I'll put some ointment on your knuckles."

"It's okay. I got a few swings in before Ralph showed up." Joan pulled her hand away and flexed her fingers. "No harm done." She reached out and touched the bag. "Why do you have this?"

"So the boys could do the same thing you did when they were mad, mostly with me. Beats hitting another person."

"Although it does lack a certain sense of satisfaction that would bring."

"On the other hand, you'll never get arrested from assaulting an inanimate object."

"True." Joan looked around. "If you don't mind, I think I'll walk around a little to finish calming down before I go back to the house. I need to wash my face and let my clothes dry some."

"Want company?"

"I'm afraid I'm not very good company right now."

Evey shrugged as they roamed down a footpath that led into a forested area not far from the stable.

JOAN FELT ODDLY comforted by simply having Evey's presence walking silently next to her.

"It's nice here," Joan said a few minutes later.

"Pretty boring," Evey said.

"After the excitement caused by the Carmichael clan, I'm sure boring must seem like a welcome relief."

"Don't underestimate yourself. You have four lovely and charming children. It's obvious how much they all adore you."

Joan plucked a leaf from a nearby tree and picked at it. "I was never as outgoing or demonstrative as Martine. Even though I gave birth to Tuck and Meg, she was the one who raised them." A wistful smile crossed Joan's lips. "She practically took them from me as soon as they were delivered. She loved them all so much."

"And she loved you."

Joan stopped and gazed up at the crisp blue sky, taking a deep breath. "Yes, she did." She dropped her head and stared at the ground. She shook her head. "I miss her." A tear formed and caught on her eyelashes. She brushed it away and continued walking. The sun was beginning to fall toward the tree line when they finally made their way to the back door of the house. To reach the back door they had to walk between the small house that was serving as guest quarters for Tucker and his family and the main house.

"Catch, Gramma!" a young voice called out.

Joan turned just in time to grab a football out of the air with one hand moments before it would have hit her. She laughed and threw the ball high into the air. Mitchell ran under the ball and caught it.

"Good catch, Mitch," Joan praised her grandson. "Let me change and we'll toss it around some before dinner."

"Me, too, Gramma?" Morgana said, jumping up and down in excitement.

"Of course, Jitterbug," Joan answered with a laugh.

Ten minutes later Joan stepped out the back door of the house wearing a well-worn pair of Nikes, faded jeans, and a black t-shirt. She turned the corner of the house looking for her grandchildren, then stopped and laughed out loud. On the side lawn stood all of her children and grandchildren, in addition to Evey and her three children. When they saw her, they broke into two teams, preparing for a game of touch football. Joan saw Frannie and Mitchell lined up with Evey's team.

"Traitor," she said to Frannie. She glanced at Mitchell. "
Et tu, Bruté
?"

The boy shrugged at her. "We needed an even number."

"We'll see about that. We have a secret weapon. Morgana." She looked at her excited granddaughter. "Right, Jitterbug?"