"Mrs. Kopek," I said.
Carter said, "That's something we have to consider. Would there be room for her here?"
I said, "No, but we'll figure something out." Something else crossed my mind. "What about the mountain?"
This made my father laugh. "Oh, I'll take all my treasures with me. But, I updated the safe earlier this year because I knew you would want your own mountain."
Carter laughed. "He already has one."
"Oh?"
"Or do we?" I looked at Carter.
He nodded. "The Chicago Fireproof Safe Company has that name for a reason. I couldn't open it, but it's still there."
. . .
Carter's eyes were dancing as he looked at me. He waited a decent amount of time for my father to be gone and out of earshot. He then walked over with a big grin on his face. He lifted me up under my arms and kissed me soundly on the lips. I laughed as he put his hand under my ass and tossed me over his shoulder. He let out a resounding yelp, slapped me on the rear, and threw me on the bed.
I lay there, immobile and stunned. My first thought was how surprised I was that he was strong enough to do that. I weighed around 150 and that was no mean feat.
My second thought was that I would never have expected Carter Woodrow Wilson Jones, a nice boy from Albany, Georgia, to react this way. But then I remembered how, back in '49, he'd prodded me for months to buy a house in the first place. He even found the place himself. And then threatened to take out a mortgage and split it with me while knowing I could have easily bought a hundred such houses without too much trouble. Suddenly several things made sense.
"You sneaky-ass bastard," were the first words that came out of my mouth.
He was stripping off his clothes and had a wild look on his face. "What?" he asked with his big grin.
"How long have you been working on this?"
"Since the day I picked your father up and dropped him on his bony little ass." By now he was down to his garters and socks, but he didn't bother with those and got right to the matter at hand.
. . .
We were stretched out in bed sharing a Camel between us when I finally asked, "How long have you been thinking about this? Tell me the truth, Carter."
He handed me the cigarette and said, "It's just what I said. Ever since your sister's funeral."
"But why?"
"Because the old man told me then that he didn't want to live here anymore. Too many bad memories."
He put his hand out and I gave him the cigarette.
"I can understand that sentiment."
Carter sat up and looked over at me. "You don't want to leave Eureka Valley, do you?"
I sighed. "No. But I can't imagine building a new house or trying to repair that one." I looked around the room. It really was beautiful. It could've easily been in a museum. Maybe that was the problem. For me, at least. "It's so cold here. Even with Lettie here, it's still cold."
Carter looked at me deeply. "Have you noticed that she hasn't done any decorating of her own? She hasn't even moved any furniture."
"What about the office?"
"Your old man did that after the wedding."
"How do you know that?"
"I helped him with some of it."
I sat up and crossed my legs. "What?"
"Sure. I was the one who suggested removing the Persian rug. Marnie and I found the guys who restored the wood floor."
"Damn it, Carter. You're in up to your eyeballs on this, aren't you?"
"On what?" He grinned that lopsided grin he could get every now and then.
"On getting us moved in here."
He shook his head, reached over to the side table, and stubbed out the last of the cigarette.
"No. I was just helping out your father. He's never said anything to me about moving since last year." I noticed he put a special emphasis on the word "moving." I wondered what that meant.
"Look, Nick. It's cold here because a bitter old man had been living here by himself for... How long?"
"Nine years."
"He needs to move on. And she definitely deserves her own home. And they don't need a big pile of rocks."
I laughed at his use of my phrase. "You're right about all that. He could just sell, though."
"For God's sake Nick, he's still a Williams. He may be improving with age but he's still got that Welsh mettle that you Williams men all have."
"Welsh mettle?"
"That's Mike's phrase, not mine. But it's true."
I grabbed his hand, pulled it to my face, and kissed the back of it.
"What's that for?"
I started to reply but then stopped. It was as if the answer to this question of whether to move in and take over was suddenly settled. I kissed his hand again. He came up close and embraced me from behind, stretching his legs around mine. "Don't you feel it?" I asked.
"Feel what?" He kissed the back of my neck.
"How romantic we are when we're here together."
"We've been here two nights. What are you talking about?"
I was getting that same feeling I'd had when the idea to start Consolidated Security had come over me. It was a curious mix of anticipation of something wonderful and a deep feeling of the rightness of everything.
"We belong here, Carter."
He laughed and kissed my neck again. I leaned back and let him hold the weight of me.
"We do, Nick."
"No, I don't mean like that. I mean, we belong here. Can't you feel it?"
Carter was quiet for a moment. I could feel his heart beating as I leaned against his chest. I looked out the window as the light began to dim. I could see fog moving across the sky.
Whispering in my ear, he said, "Remember at Christmas?"
"I do. That's what I mean. I've thought a lot about that afternoon in my old bedroom. I thought it was just that day. All that happened."
"That could be the same thing now. Our lives have just burned down to the ground, after all."
"Yeah." I thought for another moment, reaching for the right words. "The house might be cold. But, when I'm here with you, right now, I'm alive and warm."
He reached one hand around my chest and rubbed my shoulder with the other. "I love you, Nicholas Williams."
. . .
Once we were all cleaned up, we walked down to the second floor. Holding Carter's hand, I knocked on my father's bedroom door.
Lettie opened it and said, "Come in, boys."
We followed her in. I hadn't been in that room in a very long time but it looked exactly the same as I remembered. A gigantic four-poster bed was against one wall. Across from it was a large fireplace, almost as large as the one downstairs. Two tall windows flanked the mantle. A row of tall windows looked down over Sacramento. Heavy drapes covered all but one of them, which was open. The fog was getting thicker by the moment.
My father was sitting in a large leather chair next to the fireplace which had a small fire burning in it, even though it was June. That explained the open window.
Lettie said, "Have a seat," and pointed to the old brown leather Chesterfield opposite of where my father was sitting. We did so as she primly sat on the arm of my father's chair.
Looking down at his pipe, my father said, "Well?"
I replied, "We'll do it."
Lettie looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. I knew I had just made her very happy. Carter was right. My father would never have sold this house.
He looked up at Carter. "And you agree?"
Carter nodded.
I said, "Don't you try to fool me, old man."
Lettie smiled briefly and then looked appropriately shocked.
My father sat up, mildly irritated, and said, "What the blazes are you talking about, Nicholas?"
"I know a scheme when I see one. If I didn't know the three of you better, I'd say that you set the fire yourselves."
Carter exclaimed, "What the hell, Nick?"
"Weren't you just lecturing me about Welsh mettle?"<
br />
My father smiled in spite of himself and then cleared his throat. "You can't just walk in here and make accusations like that."
"It's not an accusation. And don't get worked up about it." I smiled and let myself be myself. "It's not what I would have imagined in a thousand years, but I think it's a damn fine scheme, myself."
My father smiled and said, "What were you going to do with the house after... You know."
"Sell it."
Lettie looked truly shocked. "You wouldn't have, though, would you?"
I shook my head. "Not now. Not for all the tea in China. I can't believe it, but I'm finally fucking coming home."
Everyone laughed and then Lettie added, "Please be more careful of your language, Nicholas."
. . .
Before everyone arrived for the party, Carter and I sat down with Zelda in my father's office. After we explained what was going to happen, I got down to brass tacks. "Would you like to stay on?"
She looked at both of us for a long moment and then shook her head. "I know you are both fine gentlemen but I don't think I could live under the same roof knowing what would be going on in your father's bedroom."
I smiled and sat back. "Thanks for your candor, Zelda. It won't be the same without you and I'll miss you."
She rose briskly. "Will you be talking with the rest of the staff?"
We both stood up. Carter said, "Yes. But we wanted to talk with you first."
She smiled and said, "I appreciate that, Mr. Jones."
I said, "And, I'll be giving you a year's pay in severance. You'll have it on Friday. That will be your last day unless you think you need to go sooner."
She looked at me in surprise. "A year?"
I nodded. "It's probably not enough considering all you've done here."
She looked at me for a long moment. Finally, she smiled in reply. "Friday will be fine."
. . .
We went to each member of the staff and told them about the changes. We also told them that they should expect visible signs of affection between us and that we understood if they couldn't stay under those conditions. For better or for worse, they all quit.
. . .
I never heard who came up with the idea for a party but, since Marnie took care of things, it was a great evening.
Although my father had a substantial wine cellar, Pam brought a couple of gallons of the red wine she got from somewhere in Napa. I preferred hers to any that I'd ever tasted elsewhere. She still couldn't remember the name of the winery, though.
Diane brought two platters of her deviled eggs. They were the hit of the party, as always.
When Mrs. Kopek, our housekeeper, had arrived with Sam and Ike, she was a little weepy over our losing the house in the fire. We pulled her into my father's office and asked her if she would consider staying on and working for us here. We told her we would have to hire some new staff. She looked around the room and said, "Fine. I stay. You let me hire. No worry for you."
I nodded and said, "That would a big relief. Thank you, Mrs. Kopek."
"This live-in?"
I nodded. "Yes. It's a big job."
"Fine. I have friend you give my apartment to. Same as before. No rent. She just escape from Czechoslovakia. Good girl."
I nodded again. "That's fine, Mrs. Kopek. Talk to Robert about it."
She nodded and looked around again. Standing up, she walked over to my father's desk. "Furniture stay?"
I shrugged. "I don't know."
"You keep this. It belong here. You know?"
Carter said, "Of course, it stays here."
I turned and asked, "Have you already seen the new apartment?"
Carter turned a little red and replied, "Well, yeah."
I just shook my head and whispered, "You sneaky bastard."
. . .
Once we'd all eaten, Carter walked around the house and gathered everyone into the big sitting room. He had decided to call it the great room and I decided he was right. That was a much better name for it.
One of the kitchen helpers had set up bottles of French champagne and a tray of coupe glasses. Carter and I walked around and poured for everyone. Once all the glasses were topped up, Carter said, "We have a big announcement to make and I'm glad you're all here for it."
I surveyed the room. All of our friends were there. Pam and Diane. Henry and Robert. Mike and Ray. Ben and Carlo. Andy, who worked with us and grew up with Carter and Henry in Georgia, and his squeeze Dawson, who also worked with us. Evelyn and her new girlfriend Mary. Sam and Ike. Ralph, my amazing travel agent, and his gal pal Roxie. Marnie had even called Johnny, my real estate agent and his lover Rob, who was an interior designer.
Marnie had brought her new boyfriend, a nice guy by the name of Alex. This was the first time she had introduced him to any of her family or friends. I felt sorry for the guy. It was an unusual group and a lot to take in at once. But he smiled and nodded and laughed his way through it. And the way he looked at Marnie when she didn't know he was watching her told me it was love.
My father and Lettie stood together near the double doors that led out into a small garden behind the house. Carter and I were next to the fireplace.
Carter looked around the room and said, "The past couple of days have been really hard for everyone. I want to thank Dr. and Mrs. Williams for taking us in."
My father raised his glass in response and Lettie beamed.
"As many of you know, I was the one who finally convinced Nick to get off his ass back in 1949 and spend some of his loot on our wonderful little bungalow on Hartford Street."
This brought some guffaws. I noticed that Alex was befuddled. Marnie leaned up and whispered something to him. He just smiled at her as she did.
"Today, Dr. Williams came to Nick and me and asked us to help him with a problem he had. Seems like Mrs. Williams wants to make a home of her own and I know the feeling. For some reason, it's hard to get these Williams men to move."
There were several chuckles, particularly from Mike, who winked at me.
Carter walked over and put his arm around me. "So, we said we'd help him out. On Friday, they're moving across the park into an apartment. And we're moving in here."
There were a few gasps and then several people began to offer their congratulations. Carter lifted his glass and said, "So, my toast is to this old pile of rocks." Everyone, even my father, laughed. "Long may she stand!"
Chapter 9
137 Hartford Street
Sunday, June 20, 1954
Early morning
We left Sacramento Street just as dawn was breaking the next morning. It was cool but clear. The thick fog from the day before was gone.
We parked in front of Pam and Diane's house. There was no place to park in our driveway as it was covered in debris.
A portion of the roof had collapsed in on itself at some point since Friday morning. What was left of the front door was resting at an angle, holding on to the frame by one hinge. There was a scorched hole in the front porch right in front of the door. Carter pointed at that and said, "He probably poured the last bit of gasoline right there."
"Why didn't the whole porch disintegrate?" I asked.
"It was probably only a few drops. I'll know more once we can get in on Monday and take more of a look around."
Right then, I heard Pam call out, "Coffee, anyone?"
We walked up the steps of their porch and followed Pam inside. We'd been to their house a number of times. It was a little larger than ours and was crammed and jammed with furniture of all styles. There was an Art Deco chair with a vibrant arrow pattern on it next to a blood red Queen Anne settee. All the furniture was comfortable. That was the main criteria and I liked that.
We followed Pam into the kitchen where we found Diane in her robe with her thick hair tied back in a scarf, much as she'd looked on Friday morning.
She said, "Good morning," and yawned.
Pam sat down at the kitchen table and looked up. "I can't believe
you're leaving us."
Diane said, "Hush, Pam. Sit down, you two." We did so as she passed out coffee mugs.
I said, "I can't believe it either but I also can't imagine re-building that house and then living in it. Besides, did you see Lettie's face last night when Carter made his toast? My father won't sell and she really wants out of there."
As she moved around the table, pouring coffee for each of us, Diane asked, "What about all the people who work for them?"
Carter replied, "They all quit."
Pam shook her head. "Can't take working for them queers, huh?"
I nodded. "That's about it. They were all very polite about it."
"Plus, he gave them all a year's severance," Carter added.
Diane put the percolator back on the stove and sat down. "That seems like a lot, Nick."
I said, "I'm not sure it's enough considering what they had to put up with all these years."
Carter said, "Anyway, we have Mrs. Kopek on the job. She'll have the place in shape in no time."
Diane asked, "Will you have to hire new people?"
I said, "Yeah. But she's gonna take care of it."
Right then, their two very annoying dogs began to yap outside the back door. Pam got up, opened the door, and the two terrors went straight for Carter, who scooped them up in his lap and began to weave his magical spells on them.
. . .
Using their back door, we made our way into the wreckage of our back garden. There were pieces of charred wood all over the grass.
Carter unlocked the basement door and pulled it open after kicking a few shingles out of the way. The basement was pretty much intact although there was water standing everywhere. As we walked around in the puddles, I said, "I guess it's a good thing you decided you didn't want a gymnasium built down here." That had been one of my Christmas gifts for Carter.
He chuckled. "What about the ring your father gave you?"
"It's always in my pocket. What about the cuff links?"
"I was wearing them."
I'd found a pair of platinum and sapphire cuff links for Carter, also for Christmas. My father, coincidentally, had given me the matching ring. I already had a gold band that I wore that Carter had given me in Mexico. I didn't really care about my father's ring other than the fact that he'd given it to me. That was the reason I carried it around even though I never wore it.
The Mangled Mobster (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 7) Page 8
