Getting Some Of Her Own

by Gwynne Forster

  Lucas ran his fingers over an amber bracelet that matched the necklace Nathan chose. “This looks nice.”

  “Oooo. It’s beautiful, Mr. Hamilton. Can I give her this one?” He nodded, and she wrapped her arms around his legs. “I love you, Mr. Hamilton.”

  With their packages in little bags, the children thanked the clerk. “You are welcome,” she said, “come back to see me again.” To Lucas, she said, “They’re such charming children, so well mannered and obedient. It’s been a pleasure to have them here.”

  “Thanks,” he said, realizing how proud of them he was and how happy he would be if he could take his own children shopping. He took their hands and headed down Market Street.

  “Don’t we have to be home now?” Nathan asked him

  “Not yet. We have time for ice cream.”

  “I love ice cream,” Rudy said. “I never got any before, but now I do. I hope I don’t have to go back to those families anymore.”

  Nathan’s arm slid around Rudy, and he whispered something to her. “That’s not likely,” Lucas said. “Mrs. Price, Ms. Pettiford and I will do all we can to make sure you’re happy, Rudy.”

  “Everybody loves me now, Mr. Hamilton. Before, nobody did.”

  “All of us love you, Rudy, and we love Nathan, too. Don’t forget that.”

  Sunday afternoon at four o’clock, Lucas pushed the button at the door of Calvin Jackson’s big Tudor house and listened to the chimes play the tune, “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” He liked the warmer welcome than one received from the sound of a buzz. The door opened, and he looked into the eyes of Luveen Jackson. He knew it was Luveen, because he doubted that Enid, the older of the two sisters, would have greeted him with a smile.

  “So you’re Lucas,” she said with a broad smile. “I’m glad I know you’re my brother. Papa’s waiting for you. I’m Luveen.”

  “I gathered as much. I’m glad to meet you, Luveen.”

  He followed her to the den, and when he walked in, Calvin rose and went to meet him. “Welcome, Son. As usual, you’re right on time,” he said in a tone that suggested he was making a point. He gestured toward the woman who sat farthest from him. “This is Marcie Jackson, my wife.”

  Lucas walked over to her and extended his hand. “How do you do, Mrs. Jackson?” He waited for her to show him and everyone present what she was made of. She let him wait, and a grin altered the contours of his face. It wasn’t nice, but he couldn’t help it.

  Visibly shaken, she extended her hand. “We met a couple of times.”

  His grin widened. “Did we?” He walked back to his father.

  “This is my elder daughter, Enid,” Calvin said. “You’ll find that she’s very much like her mother.”

  “Hello, Enid. Dad has spoken of you quite a bit. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” He’d been waiting for an opportunity to slip in the word, Dad.

  Her eyes seemed to bulge. “Uh . . . hello.”

  “I’m sure Luveen introduced herself to you already,” Calvin said.

  Lucas walked over to Luveen and kissed her cheek. “She did, indeed, and I appreciated the welcome.”

  “There’s only one person missing,” Marcie said, with what to him sounded like a sneer.

  “Don’t worry. I haven’t told her about this yet,” Lucas said. “If I had, she would certainly have wanted to come.” He ignored the look of panic on Marcie Jackson’s face. “But my mother has a great sense of propriety, and she would have restrained herself, just as she’s done for the last thirty-five years.” A glance at his father told him that the man appreciated his ability to duel.

  “You may imagine that I didn’t arrange this meeting as some kind of side show,” Calvin said. “I’ve always wanted my children to know each other, but Lucas’s mother denied me any paternal rights, and I had to live with that.” He ignored the gasps from Marcie and Enid. “I saw him in person for the first time six months ago. I’m proud of the man he’s become.

  “He’s been running Jackson Enterprises and doing an outstanding job. Tomorrow I will retire. Lucas has agreed to add Hamilton Architectural Designs to Jackson Enterprises, and he will run the company as CEO, owner and manager.” Enid jumped up from the chair and slowly dropped back down. “Proceeds from Hamilton Architectural Designs belong to Lucas, and half of Jackson Enterprises belongs to him.” Marcie stood and turned to leave the room.

  “Only those present to sign this document will get anything from this estate,” Calvin said. “For years, I have tried to interest my family in my business, tried to make them see that if I died, they would lose the company because they didn’t even know what constituted it and weren’t interested. Not even in those awful days when I thought I’d lose it and could have used help, if only someone to answer the telephone. When I faced that surgery and couldn’t manage the business, I asked Lucas to do it. He agreed, and after six months, he knows it as well as I do and has even improved some of the properties. I am happy to place it in his hands. You may stay, Marcie, or you may leave. The choice is yours.” She sat down, as Lucas knew she would.

  “As I was saying,” Calvin continued, “we will all be taken care of. Income from the other half of Jackson Enterprises will be shared by the three of you and myself.”

  Lucas could see Marcie Jackson slowly shrink. “You can still hang out with the Jack and Jill folks, Marcie,” Calvin said. “For the last few years, the company’s been netting about two million a year. With Lucas at the helm, it will do much better, because he won’t tolerate half the foolishness from some of the employees that I put up with.”

  “How could you?” Marcie hissed. “This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

  Calvin leaned toward her. “If you had paid one-tenth as much attention to me as you paid to your clubs and charities and to any organization that asked you to be a board member; if you had spent two evenings a month at home with me; if—in those days when I was poor—you hadn’t spent money I hadn’t even made and kept me ridden with debts; if you had been a wife rather than an ornament, believe me, Lucas Hamilton would not exist. He’s here, and he has a special place in my heart. End of topic.”

  Luveen appeared to be the peacemaker when she smiled at Lucas and said, “Will I get income monthly or annually? Now, I just tell Papa I need some money, but at my age, I suppose I should organize my affairs better.”

  “However Dad arranges it,” he said, “although I think it should be according to your wishes and based on the previous year’s records.”

  “Right,” Calvin said. “Each of you arrange it with Lucas.”

  Marcie glared at her husband through pursed lips that seemed to have shriveled into a thin line. “You’ve got your millions, and you’re cutting us loose with a measly two hundred thousand a year. How do you know this man will do right by us?”

  Calvin’s smile could only be described as pitying. “It’s too late for pretense, Marcie. We can only deal with what we have left. Besides, I haven’t said a word about cutting anyone loose. If you’d been paying attention, you’d have noticed that Lucas is a gentleman. I’d trust him with my life.”

  “I want mine annually in advance,” Enid said.

  Lucas didn’t know why, but Enid stuck in his craw like ground glass. To show her that she hadn’t struck a blow, he reached down for the briefcase beside his chair, took out a pad, and made a note of what she’d said. “Once a year means exactly that: once a year,” he said, looking directly at her.

  He checked his watch. A quarter to six. If he hurried, he could see his mother and get a decent meal. He stood. “I have to run, Dad. I want to have dinner with my mother. I’ll see you Monday morning around the usual time.”

  Calvin opened a drawer and took out some papers. “I’m going to sign this above my name, and date it, and I want each of you to do the same.” He read it aloud to assure them that the content was as he had discussed. “Is there anyone here who doesn’t want to sign it?” Since he got no response, he signed it and passe
d it next to Lucas.

  When they had all signed, he stood, shook Lucas’s hand and handed him a copy of the document. “You’re owner and CEO of Jackson Enterprises. As soon as I’m up to it, I’m going on a safari. I’ve wanted to do that for years, but I never could get away.”

  Lucas didn’t feel triumphant, only sad for the man whose life had churned in an unhappy marriage for over a third of a century. He patted his father’s shoulder, a barely noticeable gesture, as they stood head to head. “Thanks for everything. See you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Luveen said.

  He wasn’t going to lie and tell Enid and Marcie that he was glad to have met them; he could have done without ever seeing either of them. Forcing a smile, he said, “Good-bye, all. See you again.”

  “I hope we get to know each other better,” Luveen said as they walked to the door. “Your existence was a shock to me. Papa told Enid and me about you together, and he didn’t spare the details. He’s very impressed with you. When you were growing up, did you know about Enid and me?”

  “Not until Dad told me after he and I met. Discovering sisters who are older than I rocked me a bit, I must say I’m glad at least one of them is friendly.”

  Luveen’s laughter tinkled like a bell. “Enid and Mama don’t knock themselves out making people comfortable. Have a nice supper with your mother.”

  “Thanks. She’s a great cook.”

  Half an hour later he parked in front of his mother’s house. “Hi,” she said when she met him at the door. “I’m just putting the barbecued pork on the rotisserie. It’ll be ready in about an hour. I can give you—”

  He kissed her cheek. “Slow down, Mama. You know I’m going to wait for that barbecued pork. I just left Dad’s house. He had a family conference with his wife, his two daughters and me.”

  She clutched his arm so tightly that he felt the print of her nails. “You were at Calvin’s house?”

  “Sure,” he said, as casually as he could. “I go there every Monday.”

  “I see. And you met Marcie?”

  “Why . . . yes, and his daughters, too.”

  She looked away from him and spoke in a softer than normal voice. “How did Marcie treat you?”

  “She was testy, but that will be the last time. You know I can hold my own. I don’t expect any trouble out of her. I’m not so sure about Enid, the older daughter, but I suspect she’ll stay out of my way as long as the money’s rolling in.”

  “You put Marcie in her place right in front of Calvin?”

  He jerked his shoulder in a slight shrug. “She got out of her place in front of him. Anyway, he didn’t seem to mind, and if he had, that wouldn’t have bothered me. Don’t worry about it, Mama. I’ll tell you this much. He told them in my presence that I have a special place in his heart.”

  She let out a long breath. “So I didn’t ruin things for the two of you after all. Thank the Lord. What did he want a family conference for?”

  He went into the kitchen and got a bottle of beer for himself and a glass of wine for his mother, sat facing her in the living room and told her of his arrangement with his father. “I’ve managed his and mine separately and done a decent job of it, it ought to be a little easier this way.”

  “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “I gave it plenty of thought, and I’m satisfied that I’ve made the right decision.” He showed her the agreement signed that afternoon.

  “You got the lion’s share,” she said. “He’s been very generous.”

  “I’ll earn everything I get, Mama. Nothing in this life comes free, and I’m preparing myself right now for some family skullduggery led by Enid Jackson-Moore.”

  She shook her head from side to side as if unable to contemplate what had happened. “I know you can take care of yourself, Son. Just watch your back.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “The wheels of progress move so slowly,” Susan said to Ann Price on a Monday afternoon late in May. “That agency still hasn’t acknowledged receipt of my application to adopt Rudy.”

  “It’s been that way all my life,” Ann said. “People say patience is a virtue, but if you ask me, it’s a blessing if you got it. I sure hope they do something soon.” She stopped peeling apples for a pie and looked at Susan. “Not that Rudy’s any trouble, but I’m just so worn out lately.”

  Susan sat down and leaned against the back of the chair. Ann’s sluggishness had worried her for days. “Can’t they stay with me?”

  “I wish they could. Yesterday morning early, one of the social workers was here claiming she just dropped by. If Rudy hadn’t been here, they would probably have taken her away from me. So I guess she can’t stay away overnight again.”

  “I can at least do the laundry and grocery shopping for you. It won’t be much of a help, all things considered, but it’s something I can do.”

  Unshed tears glistened in Ann’s eyes. “I ought to say no, thank you, Susan, but it would be such a relief. God bless you.”

  As Susan drove to her shop, she thought of her good fortune compared to Ann’s problems. The woman was not well, and yet she had the burden of raising her four grandchildren on a pensioner’s income. She had desperately needed the income from Rudy’s foster care, but she treated the child as one of her own. I would give anything for a family with a . . . she hesitated—with the man I love. But I can’t have a family, so I can’t have him. He deserves his birthright. But I have my health and a good life, something that Ann would love to have.

  With the tutoring program nearing its end, she wouldn’t see Rudy unless she went to Ann’s house, and if she did that too often, would she wear out her welcome? But if she didn’t have to see Lucas twice a week maybe she would finally get him out of her system. Foolish thinking. I’ll never get him out of my system, and maybe that’s the price I have to pay for using him.

  She parked in front of her shop, went inside and checked her mail. Who was Enid Jackson-Moore? She read further. The woman wanted her summer house decorated before hot weather set in, and the house was in Nags Head, on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. She could do that, provided the place wasn’t too large. Her priority at present was Hamilton Village. She telephoned the woman.

  “Mrs. Jackson-Moore, this is Susan Pettiford. I’ve just received your letter. I have a commitment, but I may be able to decorate your house if it isn’t too large. What do you need?”

  “I appreciate your calling. With your reputation, you must be very busy. Jessica Burton is singing your praises, and I saw your work in Architectural Design. I’m facing the ocean, almost right on the beach, and I want the house to reflect that. I mean, no reds. I have five rooms.”

  “I have to see it. If I decide to do it, we’ll sign a contract. I can get over there this coming Sunday.”

  “Great.” She gave her the address and her cell phone number. “I’ll be there all weekend. I can’t tell you how happy I’ll be if you’ll do it.”

  Susan finished the call as quickly as possible and hung up. She’d bet anything that the woman was only interested in staying even with Jessica Burton. “It will cost you,” she said aloud.

  She walked into the neat, two-bedroom house that Sunday and stared out at the Atlantic Ocean through the glass wall that was the back of the house, a challenge to any interior decorator. The large deck beyond it put a limit on what she could do with that living room without ruining the setting and the view.

  “Well, what do you think?” Enid asked her. “What can you do with that glass wall?”

  “Wall-to-wall accordion Chinese screens that stand folded in each corner. When you want privacy, you close them and cover the window.”

  “Won’t they be too heavy to pull around?”

  “They’ll be on a track. Not to worry.”

  “And you figured that out just like that? Where’s the contract? I fixed us some lunch.”

  While Enid set the table and served the lunch, Susan looked around the remainder of th
e house and filled in the blanks in the contract. Enid signed it and motioned to Susan.

  “Come on, let’s eat. It’s already one o’clock. I usually spend the entire summer here, straight through the hurricane season and sometimes a good part of the winter. I have a small apartment in Danville, but this is my preferred residence.”

  “Do you live alone? As your decorator, I need to know whether anyone lives with you. Comfort for men is not the same as comfort for women.”

  Enid rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “My husband and I separated four years ago. I don’t need a divorce and don’t plan to give him one. I’ve had my fill of men. My own father just threw a sack of shit in my face.”

  Susan’s eyes widened at that unexpected descent into street language.

  “All of a sudden,” Enid continued, “six months ago he announced that he had a bastard son from a four-year adulterous affair that neither my mother, my sister nor I knew anything about. Two weeks ago, he got us all together—and turned over everything he owns to his son—everything, including his business.”

  Susan could only hope her surprise wasn’t written on her face. She couldn’t believe her new client was Lucas’ half sister. “What will your father do now that he doesn’t manage his own business?” she asked, hoping to get off the subject of Lucas.

  “He told us he’s going to see the world, do all the things he’s always longed to do.”

  “Will your mother travel with him?”

  “I can’t imagine them doing anything together. They’d kill each other. One of them says something, and the other doesn’t even respond. Their marriage is worse than mine ever was.”

  “That’s a pity.” She looked for a way to end the conversation, for she suspected that if Enid had a listener, she would talk incessantly until midnight. “I’d better be getting back to the airport. I’ll e-mail you my sketches, and I’d like you to let me know what you think as soon as you can.”

  “All right. It’s been wonderful getting to know you. I’m sure I’ll be pleased. If you’ll wait two or three minutes, I’ll drive you to the airport.” When she smiled, she resembled Lucas, Susan realized. “I hope we’re going to be good friends.”