“Drive fast.”
“All right.” He sounded calm and sure. “I’ll find her.”
“Please. Find her.”
Out on the heat-choked sidewalk, Sol was waiting for her. Mutely, he opened the car door for her, and she slid into the seat and pressed her foot hard against the floor to push the car forward.
46
I heard Father come into the kitchen. “Coffee, coffee,” he groaned, just the way he always did. My heart stopped racing and I felt a little cheered. Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe the world would drop back into its normal place after all. I leaned forward to look through the open door and saw that it wouldn’t. I could see only a thin slice of the kitchen—the table, a bit of the counter next to the stove—but Father was there and he wasn’t normal. He had a shirt on, but it was unbuttoned over his undershirt, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows.
“Coffee,” he moaned, stepping around the kitchen. “Where do you suppose she keeps it?”
“Pantry?” said Miss Beck’s voice.
“Maybe,” he mumbled, moving away.
“Refrigerator?” she said. I froze, because the refrigerator was right next to my cellar door. She came to look herself, bending to see the shelves. She was wearing Father’s dressing gown, his silk one with the golden belt. The cord was cinched tight around her little waist, and she was barefoot. “Here it is.”
“Good girl. Now, coffeepot.”
“Over here, I think. You know how to make it?”
“Sure. I’m an old hand. Camping.”
“You camp?” Miss Beck laughed. “I can’t picture that.”
“Picture it, lady.” He rattled around.
“I’ll have to learn how to make coffee. Jottie showed me once.”
“Jottie doesn’t make it strong enough.”
“She said it would put hair on my chest,” Miss Beck said.
He laughed. “Let me see about that,” he said, and Miss Beck squealed.
I jumped when the telephone rang, but they didn’t hear me. They were jumping themselves, I guess.
“I’ll get it,” Miss Beck said, after three rings.
“No, you won’t,” Father said, kind of sharp. “Leave it.”
I was glad. It wasn’t her house.
We all three of us waited, listening to the telephone. Fourteen times, it rang.
“Didn’t you say something about toast?” Father asked.
“Yes. I’ll make some toast.” Miss Beck went by with a package of bread in her hands. “How many would you like?” she asked.
“What?” He wasn’t listening. I heard the half cough, half explosion that meant the coffee was perking. Father was listening to that.
“How many slices?”
“Oh. Two. No, three. I’m hungry.”
For a while they were busy with toast and finding the sugar, and then she said softly, “Felix, I’ll learn how to cook.”
I could only see his back. He put the coffeepot carefully down on the stove and said, “Why would you do that?”
There was a tiny pause, and then she said, “Well. For us.”
He turned toward her and took a gulp of coffee. “Ah. Us. The folks at home, you mean. And here I always thought senators kept cooks. If not butlers. Cooks at least.”
“What?”
“You telling me your daddy doesn’t keep a cook?”
“Wait,” she said. “Wait.”
“I am waiting. I’m waiting to hear why our senator from Delaware doesn’t keep a cook. I’d hate to think it’s because he’s cheap.”
“How’d you find out?” I don’t know why she’d be ashamed of having a senator for a father, but that’s how she sounded.
He took another gulp of coffee and sighed. “Layla. I believe I told you a long time ago that was a trade secret.”
“Did you read my mail?”
He smiled. “I didn’t have to, honey. It’s printed on the envelopes. Senator and Mrs. Grayson Beck.”
“Oh.”
“You on a little research tour for the senator, sweetheart? Come to see how the other half lives?”
“No! Felix!” she gasped. “That’s not it at all!” She moved close to him and put her hand on his shirt. “No. He threw me out, Father did. I really am on relief. Really I am. You have to believe me.”
He smiled at her and shrugged. “I don’t mind. Fine by me if you’re slumming. I’ve enjoyed it. Especially the last”—he glanced up to the clock—“fifteen hours.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. “I won’t tell your daddy about that Red boyfriend of yours, either.”
“Felix! What—how’d you know about that?”
He didn’t answer.
“He’s not my boyfriend; he’s not anything anymore. It’s you that—” She put both hands on his shoulders and took a breath. “It’s you I care about.”
I realized my hands hurt from gripping my book so hard. I loosened them.
He backed his head away from her. “Is that right?”
“I love you.” Her fists bunched up the cloth of his shirt. “You must know that, after last night.” She shook him a little.
He was quiet for a bit, and then he rubbed her cheek with his hand. “Poor little Layla. You don’t know anything about me.” She stepped right up against him and put her arms around his neck, but he pulled them away. “You don’t know a damn thing.”
“I don’t care,” she said, holding tight to his hands. “I know everything I need to know. It’s true, Father’s a senator, but what does it matter? It doesn’t mean a thing about who I am or who we are or what we feel about each other.”
“Very democratic,” he said. “Very stirring.”
She stomped her foot. “You’re being ridiculous, Felix. How could you think I’d—how could I have”—she blushed—“done what we did if I didn’t love you? I’ve known since the first time you touched me that we were meant for each other. Nothing else is important—not where I come from, not where you come from. You could be a—an Eskimo, and I’d still love you!”
He laughed. “Eskimos everywhere will sleep soundly tonight.”
“Felix!” He was still laughing a little, but she put her hands on his face and made him look at her. She was pushy, that’s what she was. “My past is unimportant. And so is yours. Nothing that happened before means anything to me. It’s the future that matters.” She lifted her face to be kissed. “Our future.”
He didn’t kiss her. He just looked at her. “Our future, huh? Yours and mine.”
“Yes!” she said. “You and me together. Forever. A lifetime.”
I stood up, not caring if I made a noise. She meant us. We were his past. She was telling him that we didn’t matter, Bird and me. This was the moment I’d been watching for, the one where I’d face her down, where I’d prove myself. The Beautiful and Damned clattered away down the stairs, and I put out my hand to fling open the cellar door. “Father—” I started to say.
And then the screen door banged open and Jottie flew in, with Mr. McKubin right behind her.
I sat down again.
“Oh God,” said Jottie. “You’re here. Where’s Willa?”
Felix took a step back, his glance flicking from her to Sol and back again.
“Willa!” called Jottie.
“Get out of my house,” Felix said to Sol.
Sol’s face was expressionless. “It’s her house, too.” He pointed his chin toward Jottie.
Felix wheeled around to Jottie. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Felix,” she babbled, “I sent the girls to Minerva’s to spend the night, but Willa never went, she never went there, and I don’t know where she’s gone, I don’t know—is she here? Did you—” She stopped as he seized her arm, his fingers closing tight around it.
“You went to Moorefield to visit Irene,” he said, very quietly. “You sent the girls to Minnie’s because you went to Moorefield.”
“But it’s Willa—” she said.
“Willa’s just fine,” he said
smoothly.
“She’s here?” Her voice soared with relief.
“She’s upstairs.” His fingers pressed hard into her flesh. “How about you tell me where you were.”
Jottie looked down at her arm. “I wasn’t in Moorefield.”
“She was with me,” Sol said loudly.
“No,” Felix said, his face tight. “Not Sol.”
“Felix,” said Layla, frowning at Jottie’s arm, “you’re hurting her.”
“You were with Sol?” He gripped her tighter and tighter.
“I came back,” she said evasively. “Didn’t I?”
Sol shifted on his feet. “Let go of her, Felix.”
“Shut up,” said Felix, without looking away from Jottie. “You promised me, Jottie. We made a deal.”
“Some deal—she does whatever you say and you do whatever you want,” said Sol, taking a step toward him. “Would you let go of her?”
“Sol,” said Jottie, “just wait a second. Felix, let go.”
He dropped her arm. “Don’t forget, I stood by you. And I came back with the girls. Don’t forget what I did for you.”
Before she could speak, Sol exploded, “Goddammit, Felix, you act like you did her a favor—”
“Sol—” Jottie shook her head in warning.
“No, I’m not going to stop— You act like you did her a favor, you bastard, when what you did was come crawling back here with your children when your marriage fell apart and make Jottie your goddamn slave. You’re full of shit if you think you did her any favors.”
“Fuck you, Sol. You don’t know anything and you never did.”
“No, you don’t know anything. You want me to tell you just one of the things you don’t know?”
“Sol,” Jottie pleaded, “could you—”
“No, I could not,” he said, shaking his shoulders impatiently. “I’m tired of tiptoeing around Felix. Felix, I’m goddamn sick of you. And I’m not afraid of you, either.”
Layla’s eyes narrowed. “Afraid? I should think not—” she began, but Sol talked over her.
“Jottie and I are going to get married. She said yes. Do you hear me?” He leaned toward Felix, his eyes gleaming. “She said yes.” Felix turned to Jottie and stared at her incredulously as Sol continued to talk. “We went to Charles Town yesterday, for the Horse Show, and when I asked her to marry me, she said yes. That’s what she said.” He gazed triumphantly at Jottie. “Didn’t you?”
Briefly, she put her hand to her head. “That’s what I said.”
Footsteps hammered up the stairs to the back door. “You beat me!” called Emmett, looming dark against the screen. “Cacapon Road melted yesterday, and I had to drive around to State 9.” He yanked open the door. “But now I’m here, I’ll—” He broke off at the sight of Sol and, after a moment’s hesitation, stepped inside, his eyes moving from face to face. “Well,” he said at last. He backed toward the sink and stood against it warily. “This is unusual.”
There was a short silence. Then Sol cleared his throat and said, “Jottie and I are announcing our engagement.”
Jottie opened her mouth and closed it again as Emmett looked at her in mute astonishment. “Congratulations,” he said finally.
Felix smiled brilliantly at his brother. “And Layla and I are announcing our engagement.”
Layla’s head jerked up.
Quickly, Felix stepped to her side and put his arm around her waist. “It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it? Isn’t it, Jottie?” She nodded, her lips tight. “While you and Sol were billing and cooing over there in Charles Town, Layla and I were doing the same thing right here in the comfort of home. Rapturous, wasn’t it, Layla?”
She looked at him in confusion and nodded.
“Oh my God, you poor kid,” Sol breathed.
“Shut up,” Felix snapped, without taking his eyes from Jottie. “Let’s us have a double wedding, Jottie, what do you say? Remember Minerva and Mae? That was real nice, I thought. We can go down the aisle together, kind of a last hurrah. And then we’ll say good-bye. Good-bye and good luck. Shake hands. You can give the girls a kiss. You might see them downtown sometimes. Except I’m thinking of moving, to Chicago, maybe, the city of broad shoulders. Don’t worry, though, because Layla here, she’ll be a fine stepmother.” He threw an appraising glance at Layla. “Well, she probably won’t eat them or anything.” He laughed.
“Felix, don’t,” Jottie said.
“What?” His arm tightened around Layla’s waist. “You don’t think she’ll be a good stepmother? You doubt her? Won’t you be a good stepmother, honey?”
She tried to smile. “I’ll do my best.”
Emmett made a sharp, frustrated movement against the counter.
Felix rounded on him. “What? You should find yourself a girlfriend, Emmett. I think you’d be happier.”
“Felix,” said Jottie, her voice rising, “you have to stop. We all know you’re angry, but it’s not right, what you’re doing. It’s not fair to Layla.”
“Layla?” Felix gestured to her. “She’s happy. This is everything she’s ever wanted. She was just saying that. Weren’t you, Layla?”
“Yes,” she said, lifting her chin. “Of course, and I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jottie. It’s no wonder that Felix is a little upset, with you getting yourself engaged to, well, a man who practically ruined his life with lies and slander.” She glanced haughtily at Sol. “I don’t know how you can do it. None of my business, of course, but I don’t know how you can.”
Felix’s smile was radiant. “You hear that, Jottie? She doesn’t know how you can. And neither do I.” His smile disappeared. “Neither do I.”
Layla put her hand on his and squeezed it comfortingly. “No one believes it, Felix. Everyone knows it was a lie. I mean,” she looked around the room earnestly, “of course it was sad that that boy died, but obviously, obviously, you”—she pursed her lips at Sol—“were in some kind of, of—I don’t know—delusion is the kindest word for it. I can’t understand why anyone ever took you seriously. Six weeks after it happened. Ridiculous,” she said contemptuously.
“He did it,” said Sol. “No delusion. It was him. I know you were behind it somehow, Felix.”
“You’re crazy. I wasn’t even there.”
“Oh, don’t,” moaned Jottie. “Please. Can’t we just—”
“No,” snapped Sol, his eyes on Felix. “I don’t know why or how, but I know you started it. I know you planned it; I know you lied. Because that’s what you do.”
“I wasn’t there. It was Vause.”
Sol’s mouth curled. “Yeah, you’d say that. You never gave a damn about anybody as long as you got what you wanted. Anything you wanted, you took like it was yours. Hell, I saw you break into Everlasting a dozen times at least—along with half the other buildings in town. And you always got away with it.”
“That’s what gets under your skin, isn’t it, Sol? That I did what I wanted and I never got punished. You always hoped I’d get in trouble—you were dying for someone to bring me down, and finally you decided to do it yourself. You always hated me.”
Sol shook his head. “No, I didn’t, and you know it. From the time we were kids, I wanted to be just like you. So smart and brave—the things you’d do. And then later, when all the girls were so crazy about you—I always wanted to be like you. Like you and Vause. I was so proud that I was your-all’s friend, almost one of you. But not quite. Not really.”
Felix sneered. “We felt sorry for you, that’s why we let you tag along. God, there you’d be, tagging along and fussing at us, telling us not to do this or that because we’d get hurt. Yellow is what you were. You were always yellow.”
Sol nodded. “I know. But I didn’t hate you.”
Felix said scornfully, “You were jealous.”
“Yeah, I was, but mostly I just wanted to come along with you.”
“You were jealous, so you lied about me.”
“No.” Sol shook his head. “I w
asn’t even thinking about you, really. It was Vause I was thinking about. The Vause I knew, he wouldn’t have done it, not on his own. He wouldn’t have stolen money and he wouldn’t have set that mill on fire. He would have followed you there, I can see him doing that, but not without you making him.”
“I didn’t make him!” Felix snapped. “I didn’t have anything to do with it. He did it himself!”
“No. Not Vause.”
“He did,” Felix insisted. “He knew how to open the safe, and he went there and stole six thousand dollars and then set the place on fire.”
Sol shook his head. “It’s not something Vause would have done.” He appealed to Jottie. “Would he?”
She lifted her eyes to his. “I never—I didn’t think so.”
Sol was almost talking to himself now. “It couldn’t have been him. Vause wasn’t like that. He was so…clear, you know?”
She nodded. “And he didn’t lie much. Hardly ever. Only to get Felix or me out of trouble.” She turned to include her brother. “Remember?”
For a moment, he simply looked at her. Then he drew in his breath and began speaking softly. “That’s what you want to believe, Jottie, but you know it’s not true. You know the truth, honey. Come on,” he prodded. “You know what he was doing. He was stealing that money because he had to get out of town. He’d gotten himself in too deep with you and he wanted to break it off. It’d started out as a joke—”
“Jesus, Felix!” exclaimed Emmett. “That’s not—”
“Hushup, Emmett,” said Felix. “You don’t know anything. It had been a joke, you know, just a little fun before he moved along, but then he saw you were taking it hard.” His words fell slow and gentle: “And you made it worse when you started talking about getting married—”
“No! It wasn’t me,” she cried. “Vause said it first!”
“Honey”—Felix shook his head—“I was there. It was you. Vause didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but he didn’t want to get married, either.” He smiled. “He sure wasn’t ready to settle down, I’ll tell you—he had a couple other girls he was going with—”
“No,” she protested, her hands rising to fend off his words. “That’s not what—you never told me that.”
The Truth According to Us Page 39
