The Paradoxical Parent (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 13)

by Frank W. Butterfield

  It was a flew blocks walk along a very crowded sidewalk to the hotel. Once we arrived, I stopped at the desk to ask for messages. A thin man handed me a telegram and two folded-over notes.

  As we walked through the lobby, I opened the telegram.

  NICK WILLIAMS C/O COMMANDER HOTEL CAMBRIDGE MASS. NO NEWS FROM YOUR FRIEND. MARNIE SENDS LOVE. MIKE.

  We found Frankie and Maria sitting at the hotel bar. I walked up and asked, "How went the shopping?"

  Maria took a sip of her martini. "Not the best but definitely not the worst."

  Frankie nodded. "Usually, I tell the clerk that my wife had a double mastectomy. That seems to smooth things over."

  "What's that?" asked Carter.

  "When they remove the breasts because of cancer."

  We all nodded.

  "The first place threw us out."

  Maria put her hand to her throat, which was wrapped in a pretty aquamarine scarf.

  Carter whistled.

  Frankie said, "Yeah. It happened like that in San Francisco a couple of times until we found the right places to go."

  Maria added, "The second shop was fine." She smiled at me. "You were very generous, Nick. We have plenty left over."

  I smiled in return. "Like I said, it's a bonus."

  She lifted her martini and asked, "Where to for dinner?"

  I said, "I called Kenneth and Robert and left messages. Let's see if they replied." I opened the two folded-over notes. The first was from Kenneth. It said he wanted to invite Carter and me for dinner that night at their house. And that Robert and his wife would be there, as well. The second was from Robert, confirming the same. I handed them to Carter as I said, "Looks like we have dinner with the family tonight." I looked over at Johnny. "Can you take these two out on the town?"

  He grinned and looked at Frankie. "Waddaya say?"

  Frankie clapped Johnny on the shoulder. "Lead the way, kid."

  Chapter 7

  141 Bedford Road

  Lincoln, Mass.

  Wednesday, March 9, 1955

  Half past 7 in the evening

  As the cab backed out of the driveway, Carter and I looked at the small house. It was brand-new and had a one-car garage with a white '54 Ford Crestline sedan parked inside and a '51 Mercury Eight coupe parked over to the right of the house.

  The smell of burning wood hung in the cold night air. From the house, I could hear Frank Sinatra singing "Three Coins in the Fountain". Above the music, I could hear two male voices arguing about something.

  I looked over at Carter who asked, "Are you sure this is the right address?"

  I nodded. I'd called Kenneth from the hotel and he'd described the house. It was exactly what he'd said. Plain, single story, white frame house with a row of windows in front and a garage to the right. He'd even mentioned his Ford would be in the garage. And that Robert's Mercury would be parked out front.

  I walked up the steps and pressed the doorbell. I heard a chime and the male voices went silent. Then the radio was turned off. After a moment, I could hear a woman's high-heel shoes walking on a wood floor. The door opened, revealing a gal of about 30 or so with blonde hair cut just like June Allyson. She smiled and pushed open the outside glass door. "You must be Nick."

  I nodded and smiled. "I am. Are you Michelle?"

  She stepped back and nodded. "I am. I'm Kenneth's wife. Come on in, you two." Her accent was southern, much to my surprise.

  Looking up at my husband, she said, "And you must be Carter."

  He smiled down at her and said, "And you must be from Birmingham."

  She giggled. "Tuscaloosa, actually. And you're from?"

  "Albany, Georgia."

  She nodded. "I would have said Atlanta but I guess that's what happens when you live in the big city."

  Carter grinned. "It is."

  "Take off your coats and hats, boys."

  As we did that, she asked, "What can I make you two to drink?"

  Carter replied, "I'll take beer, if you have it."

  "I sure do. Have to keep the house stocked for Kenneth. He loves his beer. How about you, Nick?"

  "Martini?"

  "Only if you like 'em with gin. I don't keep vodka in the house. Doesn't seem very patriotic to me, if you know what I mean."

  I laughed. "Gin's the only way to make a martini."

  "I like the way you think. Come on in so you can meet everyone else."

  We followed her down a hallway and then right into a modest living room. There was a long, low sofa that curved around at the end. On it was sitting a red-headed gal with watery blue eyes. She smiled wanly as we walked in.

  Michelle said, "Here they are. Excuse me while I get your drinks." With that, she walked into a small dining room and through a swinging door to a kitchen beyond.

  Two men, who were definitely brothers and definitely related to Ed Richardson, were both standing by the mantel of a fireplace whose fire was half-heartedly burning.

  The taller of the two walked forward and offered his hand to me with a smile. "Kenneth Richardson." He stood about 5'10", had wavy chestnut hair, soft brown eyes, and an infectious smile. He was wearing a brown and green pull-over sweater with dark brown baggy corduroy trousers. He was holding a brown bottle of beer in his left hand.

  I shook and said, "Nick Williams." I hooked my thumb behind me and said, "And this is Carter Jones."

  Kenneth grinned and they both shook. "Nice to meet you both. This is my brother, Robert."

  Robert stood about 5'8". He had the same chestnut hair, but it was cut in a flattop, like his father's. His eyes were dark brown. He was wearing a dark blue wool suit with a red tie which had been loosened. And he was sulking about something. He nodded at me but didn't offer his hand to either of us.

  "Robert," I said, "Nice to meet you, too."

  Kenneth pointed at the woman on the sofa. "This is my sister-in-law, Margaret, but everyone calls her Peggy."

  I walked over and offered my hand. She shook limply and didn't really smile. Carter followed my lead and got the same in return.

  Just then, Michelle walked back into the living room. She handed Carter a brown bottle without a label and me a martini glass with an olive floating in it.

  Kenneth said, "Nice to meet you two. Bottoms up."

  After everyone had a sip, I said, "I'm sure this is quite a surprise."

  Kenneth nodded while Robert just looked at the floor.

  "Your father really—"

  "Oh, can it, will you?" That was Robert.

  Peggy stood and said, "Michelle, I'm not feeling well." She smoothed out her dress. "Maybe some other night."

  The other woman nodded slowly but didn't reply.

  Kenneth shook his head. "You're a damn fool, Bobby."

  His brother put his beer bottle on the mantel and said, "At least I'm not a faggot."

  With that, he stormed past us, down the hall, and banged the door open.

  Peggy smiled weakly at me and said, "Give him some time. He's upset about Alexandra more than anything. He's really a good guy."

  I nodded. "Don't worry about it. I understand. We both do."

  She glanced up at Carter and, for a brief moment, I could see her wondering what he looked like undressed. I'd seen that expression on women and men for as long as I'd known Carter. She nodded and then ran down the hallway after her husband.

  We all stood there for a moment. Finally, Kenneth put his beer on the mantel and said, "Lemme go—"

  Michelle said, "No, Ken. Let him be. He needs to work this out on his own."

  Her husband nodded and said to me. "I married the smartest girl in Alabama."

  I smiled and said, "Looks like it."

  . . .

  Dinner was roast pork with mashed potatoes, green beans, and smothered pearl onions. While we ate, I told them everything I knew about my mother.

  As we sat over chocolate cake and coffee, Kenneth asked, "What did you think at the time she left?"

  Michelle said, "Ken! Wha
t kind of question is that?"

  I looked at her husband and nodded. "Probably the same thing you did. I mostly wondered what I'd done. Janet and I spent one whole rainy afternoon trying to think of all the things we did that made her leave."

  Kenneth pursed his lips. "Bobby and I did something like that, too." He grinned for a moment. "Of course, we were drinking beer."

  I laughed. "I wish I'd known what beer was when I was eight years old. I could have used a beer or two and a cigarette that day."

  We all laughed for a moment.

  "You know," I said with a sigh, "Janet and I never talked about it again after that day. Even as adults, we weren't that close."

  "Was it your mother's leaving that caused that?" asked Michelle.

  I shook my head. Before I could say anything, Carter said, "If you'd known Dr. Williams, even a year and a half ago, you'd know why. You never met a meaner, sorrier S.O.B." He shook his head. "Well, except for my old man, who had Dr. Williams beat by a mile."

  "How so?" asked Kenneth.

  "He was a Klansman. Took me and my brother to a lynching in the middle of the night and was just as proud as if he was showin' off a fish he'd caught."

  Michelle sighed. "I certainly don't miss those days. Where's your father now?"

  "Six feet under," answered Carter bluntly. "Someone finally killed him. Thank God."

  Michelle, instead of being shocked, smiled grimly. "I know the feeling. I got one of those, too."

  Kenneth picked at his plate and said, "I've never met my father-in-law. We got married up here. Neither of them came up." He looked at me. "Your mother was there."

  Michelle nodded. "She was wonderful. She did everything the mother of the bride should do. I suspect she was missing Janet just like I was missing my mother. But I was glad she was there for me. She made the day special. She really did."

  "That's just how she was," added Kenneth. "I remember the first day I saw her in town. I was at home for the summer break between freshman and sophomore year. From U. Mass in Amherst. She walked into the Grafton Market and it was like seeing the sun. I've already told Michelle," he grinned, "but I had a crush on your mother for a few weeks. I'd find any reason to go see her. She must have known."

  Laughing, Michelle said, "When he's in love, he's about as subtle as a ton of bricks."

  "When did you two meet?" asked Carter.

  "Funny enough," answered Kenneth, "at the beginning of the fall semester that same year. 1940. She was a frosh and I thought I was the big man on campus. I played football in college. Where'd you two go to school?"

  I smiled. "I went to St. Ignatius Prep. in San Francisco but got kicked out before graduation. And then got kicked outta the house after that."

  Michelle frowned. "By your father?"

  I nodded.

  "Whatever did you do?"

  Carter answered, "He fell right into the waiting arms—"

  I jumped in. "A friend of mine let me move in with him."

  Michelle grinned wickedly. "Oh, no. Bobby ain't here. I want the unvarnished truth."

  I glanced at Kenneth who winked at me. "I played football but I also took acting classes and was in a few musicals." He took a sip of his coffee. "We've always had lots of colorful friends."

  I said, "Let Carter tell the story."

  He leaned in. "Nick was a juvenile delinquent."

  Michelle feigned shock. "No!"

  "Yes! He and a buncha kids used to run around and get in trouble. Finally, one day this big cop by the name of Mike Robertson pulls them in for petty thievery. Fortunately, the desk sergeant back at the station, some big Swede, has a heart and gives 'em a desk warrant and tells 'em to go behave. But they don't and they have a big party in an abandoned warehouse in a bad part of town. Somehow Mike finds Nick and drags him home to the big pile of rocks up on Nob Hill, where he lived at the time. Well, that was the last straw for Parnell—"

  "Who's Parnell?" asked Kenneth.

  "That's my father," I replied dryly.

  Kenneth winked at me again and then turned to Carter. "So what happened?"

  "Parnell kicked Nick's ass right outta there and, unwittingly, into the loving arms of the biggest, meanest motorcycle—"

  I rolled my eyes. "He was on suspension at the time. That's how we met. He was on beat patrol for some reason or another."

  Michelle squealed. "A motorcycle cop! What'd he look like?"

  I laughed. "He's about an inch taller than Carter, has blue eyes that'll pierce your soul—"

  "And a Boris Karloff face," added Carter with a grin.

  "Which can be very handsome when he's happy," I said. "But watch out if you piss him off."

  "Where is he now?" asked Michelle.

  "He's the President of our company. And he's got a new boyfriend, who's also an ex-cop, and they're living happily ever after."

  Carter nodded. "He's a great guy. They both are."

  "And he's a big reason why we're here. We have some really smart people working for us. And it's all because of him."

  Kenneth asked, "What about your father now?"

  I smiled. "He's reformed. He married my secretary's mother. She's brought him into the light. Carter did his fair share of work in that regard, however."

  "Really?" asked Michelle.

  I nodded. "Without me knowing it, Carter would sneak over and play chess with my father. I thought he was keeping the City safe from fires while he was really buttering up to the old man." I looked over at Carter affectionately for a long moment and then sighed. "Truth is that everything changed when Janet died. My father showed up drunk at the funeral and Carter had to carry him bodily into a little room at the side of the church. We talked some sense into him and, I believe, that's when he started to come around."

  Carter added, "But it was really Lettie who changed everything. That's Nick's stepmother."

  I looked at Michelle. "She's an amazing woman, she really is. You do not want to get in her way."

  Carter chimed in, "No, ma'am, you sure don't."

  "After they married, a wanna-be mobster burned down our house. We moved into my father's house, that old pile of rocks, while he and Lettie moved across the street. And then, calamity of calamities, most of Carter's family moved to San Francisco."

  Michelle looked over at Carter. "Did you invite them?"

  Carter shook his head. "Hell, no, I didn't."

  Michelle laughed at that.

  "They just showed up," he added.

  I counted on my fingers. "His cousin John, John's boyfriend, Carter's Aunt Velma, and his mother."

  "Oh my goodness! That's a lot of family," said Michelle.

  Carter nodded. "It is."

  Kenneth asked, "Since the same thing could happen to me—"

  Michelle snorted. "When pigs fly, Kenneth Robinson."

  "—do you like having all your in-laws in town?"

  I smiled. "I like 'em all. So, yeah. A year and a half ago, I didn't have a mother. Now I have four, more or less."

  "Four?" asked Michelle.

  "It's a long story, but yeah, four. And," I looked down at the pressed tablecloth, "a new stepfather and, at least, one brother." I suddenly felt shy and kept my eyes on the table.

  Michelle put her hand on mine. "And at least one sister-in-law."

  I patted her hand and looked up at Kenneth. He was grinning. "Of course, you do. I had a long talk with Dad this afternoon. That's, uh, what Bobby and I were fighting about when you two arrived."

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  Kenneth waved that away. "Don't be. When our mother died, Bobby took it hard. And he took it even harder when your mother disappeared."

  "It was hard on both of you," added Michelle.

  Kenneth looked at her. "On all of us."

  She sighed and nodded.

  "We really didn't know what to think. Dad and I went to the Boston police. They did what they could. But we didn't know where to even begin. Dad hired a private investigator but nothing came of it. Bobby ch
anged after that. Allie had been Bobby's champion."

  "Allie?" asked Carter.

  Kenneth nodded as he fiddled with his spoon. "That's what she asked us to call her. You know, Nick, they never did marry. We never understood why. But now, I guess, we do."

  I nodded. "She didn't know if she was still legally married, or not."

  Michelle sat up. "Pardon me for asking, Nick, but the part I have never understood is why she didn't just go back to San Francisco. I know what you said about those letters but..." She lifted her right hand and put it against her cheek. "I can't imagine doing that to Jimmy."

  "Who's Jimmy?" I asked.

  She smiled. "He's our son. He's over at a friend's tonight, spending the night."

  "How old is he?" I asked.

  "He turned 8 in October." She grinned with a naughty look on her face.

  I remembered that they'd been married in the summer of '46. And, if he was 8, that meant Jimmy was born in '46. I made a show of counting on my fingers. "Shotgun wedding?"

  Kenneth grinned. "We'd been living together ever since I came back from England at the end of the war and hadn't ever bothered to get married. No one knew. Everyone assumed we already were, even before I went in after graduation. But, like I said, we have some very colorful friends. They didn't care. Dad and Allie, well, they were doing the same thing, so they didn't say anything. But, Michelle's parents." He rolled his eyes. "I guess we're lucky we lived so far away from Alabama, otherwise my head would probably be mounted on Buck's trophy wall down in Tuscaloosa. Buck's her dad, by the way."

  Michelle laughed. "Daddy wouldn't have shot you, Ken. He would have run you over with his Cadillac. You always get that wrong, sweetheart."

  We all laughed for a long moment.

  Carter asked, "Is there anything we can do for Bobby?"

  Kenneth shook his head. "Like my very smart wife said, he just needs time. He'll come around."

  I thought for a moment and then said, "I don't know how to answer your question, Michelle. I don't know why but, for some reason, I understand why she never came back. That part isn't a mystery. Not to me." I thought for a moment. "It's not that I don't miss having had a mother. It's not like that at all. I do." I could feel the tears coming again. I took a deep breath. "But, it's like I told my father, I'd wanna do what she did. If I thought I was dying, I'd wanna go out on my own terms." I looked over at Carter. "We have a friend at home and she has an inoperable cancer. She's living her life as fully as she can and then, when the time is right and when she's ready, we're gonna take her to Carter's house in Hawaii so she can leave on her own terms right above the ocean."