He sat with them, and Rodger brought Philip’s breakfast of fruit, Belgian waffles, sausage, and coffee. He ate silently for a few minutes and then stopped. “Jolene, I didn’t have proof that I was your father until two weeks before Emma died. I asked her right after you were born, and she swore there’d been other men. I accepted that because I wanted to, but I knew even then that she had never been with another man. I made her admit it when I brought her that last communion. Oh, I’m guilty. I knew it all those years, because you looked just like Fannie and my father.”
She felt no compassion as she gazed at him. “Why didn’t you marry her?”
“Emma broke it off before I knew she was pregnant, and then she began to live like a hermit with that mother of hers. When you were born, I got a shock, because I hadn’t known she was pregnant. I thought she’d stopped coming to church because she was angry with me. And she became as mean as a rattlesnake. I stopped caring for her. When she did admit it, she made me swear not to tell you. I didn’t have to take that oath, but it was an easy way out for me. I . . . I hope you will forgive me.”
“It’s gonna take a lot for you to forgive yourself,” Judd said, “’cause the first time you saw Jolene, you knew she was yours. How’s Fannie taking this?”
“She was furious with me at first, but she seemed to get used to the idea and told me how proud of Jolene she is, and how happy she is to have a niece and an heir. Jolene, that man who was with you last night is first class. Solid as a rock.”
“I know. Harper’s wonderful, and to think I almost loused up with him.” She answered her cell phone. “Hi. I called in sick, but I’m fine. I was on my way to being depressed, but I’m getting over that. Reverend Coles? He’s eating breakfast with Judd and me. I’m going shopping. You will? Wonderful. I’ll be ready in an hour. Bye.” She hung up. “That was Harper. I have to dress. See you later.”
She was supposed to feel something, wasn’t she? Shouldn’t she feel some natural kinship for her father? Well, she didn’t, and maybe she never would. She loved Harper and Judd and Richard and Francine and Fannie. For now, that was enough.
Richard got home late that afternoon after having been fingerprinted, photographed, questioned, and interviewed and after submitting to a physical examination. He had also filed papers, espoused his political philosophy, and articulated his plans and dreams for Pike Hill. And he had begun to wish no one had suggested that he run for mayor. Where was the running? He didn’t have an opponent. “We’ll have posters and petitions out by noon tomorrow,” the councilman had told him. “You’re a celebrity around here; most any newcomer is. You’re a shoo-in.”
He paused at the entrance to the lounge. Every boarder except Francine, Jolene, Barbara, Lila Mae Henry—the fourth grade teacher—and himself crowded around his father, and he had never heard such laughter in Fannie Johnson’s earthly haven.
“I see you’re at it again, Dad,” he said and rushed to embrace his father.
“Richard, honey, you got real roots. See if you can get your daddy to stay with us for a while,” Louvenia said, her eyes gleaming.
“Yeah,” Arnetha agreed. “He’s real folks.”
Richard stared at the two women who hadn’t spoken a hundred words to him in the ten months he’d lived there with them. And he was ready to keel over when Percy Lucas sidled up to him and said, “Richard, would you and your father care to go with me down to Bakerside? We could pick up some nice crabs, and your father would see how the crabbers work. It’s real interesting.”
Since when did Percy Lucas know how to pronounce his name? He caught himself before his lower jaw dropped. “I’d like that a lot, Percy, and I’m sure my dad would, too. I can’t thank you enough.” Percy looked suitably pleased, and Richard looked around him, aghast, for there was Marilyn stroking his father’s arm and holding a dish of her homemade ice cream inches from his father’s mouth.
Harland Peterson had conquered the Thank the Lord Boarding House. Richard observed his father closely and realized that he looked like Percy and Joe and Judd, that he drank the ginger ale—no doubt provided by Judd—straight from the bottle, and that no one would have confused him with an ambassador.
His father raised himself to his full six feet three inches and hugged Richard. “Glad to see you’ve settled down with some real human beings. I take it you’ve finished with that cocktail crowd. I never felt comfortable with that bunch. Judd tells me you’re like a son to him. I may get jealous.”
“Better watch ’em. They’re like Mutt and Jeff,” Louvenia said, her comment reflecting her age.
Richard didn’t know what to say to all the camaraderie directed at him. He thought of the schemes he’d tried in order to get his fellow boarders to like and accept him, with no luck. Yet, his father managed it merely by being himself. Harland Peterson was one of them, so they accepted him and therefore also his son.
Percy, of all people, came to his defense. “Now y’all stop teasing Richard.”
“How long have you been here?” Richard asked his father.
Harland leaned back in his chair and stretched his suspenders, running his thumbs up and down them. “Got here just in time to eat that fantastic food Marilyn served for lunch.” He winked at Richard. “Pardon. I mean dinner.”
And just long enough to charm your subjects, Richard thought with a grin, although he failed to associate his own ability to charm women effortlessly with the trait he observed in his father. To his knowledge, Harland Peterson had been a woodsman, an amateur boxer, truck driver, and taxi driver. His father would probably say that he’d also been a bum in most European countries and that, since his retirement six years earlier, he had tramped through a good part of the world. He was a people person, and the bigger the crowd around him, the happier he appeared to be. That was one trait he didn’t get from his father for, although he’d mastered it while in international circles, he had little tolerance for small talk with strangers.
Arriving from school, Lila Mae Henry burst into the lounge. “Y’all see that weather out there? Those clouds are almost jet black, and the wind is so strong I could hardly control my car. Looks like that hurricane is finally coming.”
“In that case, we’d better board up the windows,” Harland said. “Any hardware stores around here?”
Harland purchased supplies, and as the men boarded up the windows, he let them see his skill with saw, hammer, and nails. “Your father is a wonderful man,” Fannie told Richard. “If he wants to have a beer, it’s all right with me.”
He stared at her listlessly, for his thoughts were not on his father, Fannie or the house. He needed to know where Francine was and what she was doing. The windows rattled, and it seemed at times as if the entire house shook. He watched Judge Judy with Judd, his father, and Joe Tucker, but if his life had depended on it, he couldn’t have described one case. When his cell phone rang, he jumped up, ran to the hall and answered it.
“Peterson speaking.”
“This is Francine. Grab Joe, Percy, or Rodger and come to that big rock on the beach. Put on your storm coat and hurry.
Now!”
He didn’t have time to explain, so he grabbed his father. “Come with me, Dad. I need you for something.” Five minutes later, they headed for the beach in his father’s rented car. He explained the situation. “Do whatever she tells you to do.”
“Sure. What’s she to you?”
“Everything. If my luck holds out, she’ll be your daughter-in-law.”
“All right. I’m with you all the way.”
Richard parked half a block from the beach. “This wind is really something,” he said as they plodded along, pitting their strength against the wind’s brutal force. “I’ve never been in this kind of storm—Stop.” He thought he saw her sitting on the sand beside the huge boulder. He resisted calling her, but he knew she didn’t see him.
“What’s that?” his father asked. “Could that be some men pulling a boat to shore? Do you see Francine?”
“Shh. Over there beside that big rock. Let’s see if we can get there without those men seeing us. They crawled to within a few feet of her. “Francine, this is Richard.”
“Thank God. Stay down low. There’re three of them. Who’s with you?”
“My Dad.”
“Not to worry, Francine,” said Harland. “I spent a few years as a heavyweight amateur boxer, and I can still put it down. Quiet. Here they come.”
Richard trained his eyes for the man with the limp, Ronald Barnes, the ringleader and the one Francine had to take. Suddenly he heard the snap of a gun, and Francine stood up.
“Treasury Department Officer. Freeze or I shoot.”
He had never been really scared before, but he could hear his teeth chattering. All three of the men lunged toward Francine, and he heard the gun as one man fell backward. He grabbed the bigger of the other two men, knowing that his father would enjoy knocking the other one to the sand.
“Did you kill him?” Richard asked Francine.
She knelt beside Ronald Barnes and handcuffed him. “No. I only put a bullet in his shoulder low enough to drop him. You got here just in time. I knew I couldn’t handle the three of them unless I killed them without giving them a chance, and I didn’t want to do that. My boss is over half an hour away.” She put handcuffs on the other two men, straightened up and blew out a long, heavy breath. “Thank God, that’s over.”
She extended her hand to Harland. “I appreciate your helping me out, sir, and I’m glad to meet you.”
“I’m certainly glad to make your acquaintance, but I sure didn’t expect to meet my son’s girl on a beach in a hurricane apprehending thugs. It’s been exciting, and I do love adventure.”
“Why didn’t they shoot?” Richard asked her.
“These guys don’t carry guns. If they’re caught, they try to lie their way out of trouble, but if they are carrying a gun, they’re already felons. Uh . . . I have to stay here with my prisoners until the other officers arrive, but if it’s getting too rough out here for you—”
He didn’t see the point in glaring at her, because she couldn’t see him in the darkness. “It’s best we both pretend you didn’t say that,” Richard said, working hard to keep his voice gentle and soft. When she thought about what she’d said, surely she would apologize.
A federal officer and two policemen arrived and relieved Francine of her prisoners. “We need you there to book ’em,” the man he presumed to be Francine’s boss said. “You can tail us.”
Both of Francine’s hands went to her hips. “Not tonight. I’ve had enough of this weather. I’ll probably come down with pneumonia, and just in time for Christmas, too.” She looked at him. “Let’s go.”
When she shivered, Richard put his right arm around her and tucked her close to his body. Could he handle loving a woman who he couldn’t protect, whose occupation was too dangerous for the average man, and who loved the work she did? What would he have done if one of those men had shot her? Tremors raced through him at the thought of it. But he loved her and couldn’t let that stop him. Tonight, she needed him, and whenever she did, he’d be there for her.
Chapter Fourteen
When Richard walked into the lounge with Francine and his father, the boarders sat precisely as he and his father had left them nearly an hour earlier, every face etched in concern. It was then that he knew he belonged to them and they to him, that the strangers he’d rejected, then courted, and later disavowed because they seemingly had no interest in him had become his loving and caring family. He knew that he could still suffer for his callous treatment of women and for his disregard of others as he strove toward the pinnacle of success, and he accepted that—he had danced with the devil, and he’d pay his dues—but for the first time in his life, he had friends.
Philip Coles seemed to drag himself into the lounge, looked around and knocked his right fist into his left palm, apparently without realizing that he did it. “Where’s Jolene? She isn’t in her room, so I thought she was down here. She can’t be out in this weather.” He didn’t address any one in particular, but he looked at Judd.
“Jolene called me not long ago,” Judd said. “She’s staying in Ocean Pines tonight. Nobody can drive in this storm.”
Philip let his gaze roam over the group, shook his head, turned and walked slowly back up the stairs, as if dazed. “What’s wrong with him?” Francine whispered to Richard.
Richard looked down at her, so close and yet so much farther from him than he wanted her to be. “Like some of the rest of us, Francine, Philip Coles is paying his dues.”
She stared at him. “Oh, dear. Has Jolene confronted him?”
“No more than what you heard. It’s his conscience, his guilt that’s dragging him down. I haven’t been an angel, but I couldn’t have denied my child, my own flesh and blood, and looked on while she suffered at the hands of a mother who hated
me
and made my child the scapegoat. I pity him.”
Even as Richard spoke, Jolene stood with Harper near the main entrance to Long’s Department Store in Ocean Pines. “I’ve never heard such wind,” she said to him as she gazed through the glass door at the debris swirling around on the street. “We can’t drive to Pike Hill in this storm, can we?”
“It’s too dangerous.” He took both of her hands. “I’ll rent you a room in a hotel that isn’t far from here, or you may stay with me. It’s up to you.”
He stood there holding her hands and looking down at her, and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. But it seemed to her that the whole world was in his eyes. Unable to divert her gaze, she lowered her eyelids and leaned into him.
“Take me with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
She’d been to his place once before, but she remembered nothing of the masculine apartment with its dark woods and leather seating. She might never have been there, except that her mind recalled with vivid accuracy all that she experienced there, everything that he did to her there.
He made coffee and brought it to her in the living room along with a plate of Graham crackers, which he explained were his favorites. After he spilled the coffee while pouring it and broke the plate that held the crackers, she felt more at ease.
“I’m getting to be a klutz,” he said.
She reached out and patted his hand. “Harper, don’t be nervous. Nothing’s going to happen unless you want it to happen.” She recalled those lines from one of the romance novels she once read so avidly.
As if dumbfounded, he stared at her . . . and stared. Then, he laughed a big air-clearing laugh, picked her up and carried her to his bedroom.
When she awoke the next morning, snug in his arms, he was still buried deep inside of her. She moved languorously and rubbed his buttocks, and immediately she felt herself stretch as he grew within her. She raised her body to meet his thrust, and minutes later exploded around him in ecstasy.
After a while, with her face cradled in his palms, he looked down at her and shook his head as if unable to fathom the wonder of their relationship. “I start work next Monday at the Ryder Furniture Company in Ocean City. I make furniture and finish it by hand. One day, I hope to design it. When the work gets slow, I drive for one of the bus companies around here. They’re always willing to take me on, so I’m never out of a job.”
He gazed unsmiling into her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. “Will you have me for your husband, Jolene? I’ll take good care of you and our children. Will you?”
She couldn’t sit up, because he was lying on top of her, but she had a sudden desire to dance, shout, and flail her arms. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?”
He smiled at that, smiled until his face brightened with happiness. “Yes, I am. Will you?”
“I sure will.” And then she laughed. Laughed until she shook. Laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh, Harper! I will. I will.”
On Christmas Eve, two days later, Thank the Lord Boarding House hummed with activity. Judd hung a stocking for each boarder, Fannie, the kitchen help, and the guests. Joe assumed the job of cutting the chestnuts that would roast beside the fire; Percy made wreaths from the fir and holly branches he collected on his last trip; and Louvenia and Arnetha set the tables, some with red and some with green cloths.
Richard took his father and Judd to Ocean Pines to shop for wine, fruit and the ingredients for eggnog, including cognac.
“No point in drinking flat eggnog,” Harland had insisted. “The stuff needs cognac
and
rum. It’s got so much cream in it that Fannie won’t know the difference till she passes out.”
“But we have to live with her,” Judd said, “and she’d never let us forget it. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t raise hell about the cognac.”
“What are you giving Francine for Christmas?” Richard’s father asked him.
“I’d like to give her a ring, but—”
“Then give her one,” Judd said, cutting him off. “You don’t think she’s gonna come up to you and ask you for one, do you? What can you lose? Last time I saw the two of you together, she was as close to you as she could get. Well, almost. Anyway, if she says no, you can take it back to the jeweler and get your money.”
“Right,” Harland Peterson said. “That way, she’ll know it’s D-Day, and she can stop making up her mind, which is something women get a helluva kick out of doing anyhow.”
“Hmmm. Not a bad idea.” Richard parked in front of Steig’s, went inside, and found what he wanted almost immediately.
“What was all the hush-hush about the night of the hurricane?” Judd asked Richard, who told him, and added, “She’s finished with that job, so it’s no longer a secret.”
“Well, I’ll be doggone. Cute and womanly as she is, I never woulda guessed it.” Judd said. “If your father said his woman was an officer of the law, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised, ’cause he’s down here on earth like the rest of us. But
you!
I can’t even imagine you with your fingers dirty. You look like Harland here, but you’re not a bit like him.”
“That’s because I spent most of my life trying not to be like him. But in the past couple of days, it’s become clear to me that he gets more that’s meaningful with his ways than I ever did with mine.”
Judd cleared his throat. “You want Francine, but will you introduce her to your highfalutin’ friends as a policewoman?”
“If you can’t do that, you should leave her alone,” Harland said. “Francine is a prize for any man.”
“What do you two take me to be?” Richard said, becoming exasperated. “My friends live at Thank the Lord Boarding House; other people are acquaintances, and who I marry is none of their business.” And to signal the end to that issue, he asked Judd, “Do you want us to visit your sister the day after tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t mind, if it’s no trouble.”
Alone in his room late that afternoon, Richard walked from one end of it to the other, time and again. Maybe if he wrote her a note. He sat down and began a letter, tore it up and went downstairs. How long would he have to pay for his transgressions? He deserved punishment, and he knew it, but should it last forever?
“If she won’t take the ring,” he said to Judd, “I’ll be devastated. Where’s Dad? I thought he was down here.”
“She’ll be happy to have it,” Judd assured him, “so take it easy. Your father is in the kitchen showing Marilyn how to make something called satay that he ate in Indonesia. Be careful you don’t get her for a stepmother.”
He stared at Judd. “A what? Hell no, man. I’d handcuff my father and lock him up before I’d see him do that.”
Laughter rumbled out of Judd in what seemed like gasps. “Well, he’s a fine looking man, and he’s got Marilyn’s prerequisites.”
Marilyn didn’t allow any of the boarders in her kitchen, so what was Harland Peterson doing in there? He resisted checking on him. His sixty-six-year-old father shouldn’t need a chaperon. He tried to enjoy the holiday atmosphere—big beautiful tree and the berry-sprinkled green wreath above the fireplace, the odor of bayberry and pine that wafted throughout the house. Flames danced and crackled before his eyes, spreading warmth and brightening the lounge. A mound of gifts, beautifully wrapped, filled the space beneath the tree. He squirmed in his chair. Where was Francine?
“The odors in that kitchen make me feel as if I haven’t eaten in weeks,” Harland said when he joined Judd and his son. “Where’s Francine?”
She walked toward them at that moment, open and welcoming, and he prayed that he wasn’t misunderstanding the signals she sent. He got up and pulled out a chair for her.
Marilyn had roasted a suckling pig and a twenty-five pound turkey with all the trimmings for a traditional Christmas dinner. With two additional tables set, the kitchen staff, Harland, Philip, and Harper joined the boarders and Fannie for the meal.
Fannie stood. “Reverend Coles will say the grace, but I know how gossip flies around here, so before he does, I want you all to remember that this is Christmas, a time of love and forgiving. I’ve forgiven Philip, and I want all of you to do the same.” Philip’s grace was more like a prayer, and when he finished, Judd applauded and the others followed his lead.
Richard looked into Francine’s eyes, asking for tolerance, understanding and, maybe, forgiveness. Her gaze didn’t waver, so he reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I’ll be faithful to you, and I’ll love you for as long as I breathe.”
“I know,” she said, “and I promise you the same.”
His heart seemed at first to have stopped beating, and then it began a furious pounding in his chest. He recovered his breath, stood, leaned forward and kissed her mouth. He didn’t wait for a reprimand for his public display, but reached into his pocket for the ring, took her left hand and slipped the ring on her ring finger. He didn’t know what she said, for the deafening applause drowned out her words. But the tears sparkling in her eyes and the smile on her face were all the words he needed, and he bounded around the table, lifted her into his arms and held her. She looked at the ring on her finger and then kissed the side of his mouth.
“I think she just agreed to marry me,” he said to those present. “I can hardly believe it.”
“She did,” Marilyn said. “Now, let’s eat before this dinner I cooked gets cold.”
“Wait a minute,” Harper said. “This guy’s got nothing on me. Jolene has agreed to marry me, and we’re having the ceremony in February.” He stood, slipped a ring on Jolene’s finger and hugged her. “Now, we can eat.”
Judd finished his meal and headed for his usual seat in the lounge. Rocking back and forward in his Shaker rocker, his words belied his smile. “Looks like I’m gonna be losing two of m’favorite people.”
“I don’t think so,” Fannie said. “From what I hear, half the town’s already signed a petition for Richard’s mayoral candidacy, and I’m told Harper lives in Ocean Pines. They’ll be nearby. Still, I wish Jolene wouldn’t leave me. Jolene,” she looked at her niece, “I know Philip’s behavior was reprehensible, but the Lord wants you to forgive. Philip will pay for what he’s done; you needn’t worry about that. Tell you the truth, he’s suffering right now.”
As if on cue, Philip joined them. “I don’t have an excuse, Jolene, and for the rest of my life, I will regret how I’ve behaved toward you. At least, please don’t hate me.”
Jolene looked him in the eye. “I won’t say it’s all right, because it isn’t. There were plenty of times when I needed someone desperately, and there was no one. But I’ve done things that I’m ashamed of, too, and I’ve hurt others. I don’t feel like opening my arms to you, but I don’t wish you any harm. In time, maybe we can be closer.”
Philip looked at Harper. “I hope you won’t keep my grandchildren from me.”
Harper didn’t flinch from the man’s gaze. “Whatever makes Jolene happy.”
Judd nodded his head in agreement and when, from his peripheral vision, he saw Richard and Francine gliding arm-in-arm up the stairs, he smiled in contentment, leaned back in his Shaker rocker, and rocked.