Possessions

by Judith Michael

  'Thank you." Ross saw her hands shake as she poured. "What did Craig tell you about Katherine?"

  "What didn't he, would be more like it. He didn't tell me he'd leave her, if that's what you're asking. That was the last thing on his mind. He was crazy about her." She saw Ross look again at the photographs around the room. "You don't understand."

  "No," Ross replied. "I don't."

  She sat on the couch and motioned to the space beside her. "Don't you want to sit down?"

  Sitting with her, Ross felt her warmth, the comfort of her strong body and calm gaze. Remembering Craig, he began to understand what had drawn him here.

  "You knew Craig," Elissa said. "So you know he wasn't really happy unless somebody needed him. Not demanding things of him—he hated it when people told him what he ought

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  to do or how he ought to behave—but just needing to be taken care of. It made him feel good to take care of people who were in trouble. That was me when he met me: I was in trouble and I sure needed to be taken care of."

  She took a sip of sherry. "Do you want some crackers or pretzels or something?"

  "No, thank you."

  "Well, when we met, I was three months pregnant and no one was around to be the father. Isn*t that the damndest luck? First my little boy's father and now Craig. Good thing I'm not superstitious. This guy, the father, was working on an oil rig and he got transferred and said he'd send for me when he got settled, but he never did. I have a feeling he was a little scared by the idea of fatherhood. I tend to take up with men who scare easily; I wonder why that is. Excuse me."

  She left the room and was back in a minute. "Turned on the oven. Whenever you start getting hungry, let me know. I met Craig when Danny took me drinking with them one night. I was pretty down and Craig tried to make me feel better and I end«J up telling him all my problems. I'd been sick with some kind of anemia—pernicious anemia, does that sound right?—and I'd lost my job and there I was pregnant with no man around. Little did I know I was practically seducing Craig; he couldn't resist a sob story like that. The next night he showed up on my doorstep with a couple of steaks and two pints of cherry vanilla ice cream and some bottles of Scotch and wine. He said in my condition I needed protein and good cheer and he was providing them. He provided them for almost two years."

  In the silence, Ross asked, "How old are you?"

  "Twenty-nine."

  "And where is your little boy?'*

  "I sent him to a friend's house for the night. He's just about gotten over missing Craig; he didn't need to hear any of this." She looked somberly at Ross. "What you have to understand is that Craig didn't come here because he liked a roll in the hay with someone who wasn't his wife. He came here because he needed me as much as I needed him. I'm not criticizing Katherine; she sounds like somebody I could be friends with. But Craig said she thought he was perfect and if he told her the truth about himself— any of the truth, way back to the sailing accident . . .oh, sure," she said as Ross's eyebrows

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  shot up, "he told me about that. He couldn't tell Katherine because he was sure she'd stop believing in him, stop loving him, if she knew that he caused his sister's death and ran away and let his whole family think he was drowned. And he said he was going to be blamed for some building that wasn't built right—I never understood all of that, but he said he couldn't fight his son-of-a-bitch cousin Derek, and Derek's father, to prove he wasn't the one who did whatever Derek did. He was so full of hate for Derek you wouldn't believe it. There was something else—something he couldn't even tell me, it hurt so much—but most of it he talked about over and over. He had to; he said he'd never told anyone and he could hardly stand it."

  "He had a wife who loved him," Ross said. "He could have told her."

  "Didn't you hear what I said? He couldn't tell her because he loved her."

  "So he shut her out."

  "Is that how she felt? Well, I can see how she might. But Craig didn't think of that. He was just scared of telhng her."

  "Why wasn't he scared of telling you?"

  "Because he didn't love me," Elissa said simply. "He needed me to talk to; he was comfortable with me; he was happy. But he didn't love me. He loved Katherine and he couldn't risk disappointing her." In a moment she stood and said briskly, "I think I should put the chicken in the oven. About fifteen minutes until dinner. Is that all right?"

  "Yes." Preoccupied with his thoughts, Ross absently followed her into the kitchen, perching on one of the stools at the linoleum-covered breakfast counter.

  "Craig used to do that," said Elissa, putting a covered dish in the oven. "Sat there drinking Scotch and talking away while I cooked the food he brought. He always brought food; he always acted like he had plenty of money. Do you know, I can tell you what every room in his house in West Vancouver looks like? 1 used to dream about how it would be to live there."

  "Did you ever tell Craig that?"

  "Of course not. It would have made him feel bad and then he couldn't talk about it anymore. What I was best at with Craig was listening. He never thought of me envying his house because ..."

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  "Because he never thought of you."

  *That's not true! He thought of us all the time! When my boy was bom and this anemia thing of mine came back, he took care of us. He bought us things—he paid the mortgage on this house!—and never refused me anything. And it seemed we were always needing something. He didn't steal because of us, did he? Do you think it was my fault? I've thought and thought about it and I don't believe he stole at all. He wasn't the kind. He was so good to us . . ."

  "Danny, too," she said, putting pickles and olives on a plate. "He and a friend had saved money to start their own business and Craig loaned them the rest, without even being asked. He heard them talking about bonx)wing money and said he'd take care of it. He liked doing things for people."

  "He liked showing people how much he could do for them."

  "It's the same thing, isn't it? He didn't even tell Danny when to repay the money, but Danny started anyway; he'd made two or three payments when Craig disappeared. It's too bad he always ran when things got difficult—and I know it wasn't right that he spent money on us instead of his family— but he acted like he had plenty, and when he'd say he couldn't tell Katherine things, and smile that sad little smile of his . . . Well, I loved him, and wanted to make him feel good about himself. Oh, damn, damn, damn—Ross, I keep wondering where he is, and if he's all right, and what I did wrong to make him disappear. Everywhere I go, he's sort of there ... but not really . . . and / miss him."

  Standing beside Elissa in her kitchen, with his anns around her, Ross silently cursed his cousin, who twice had found wonderfiil women, and had hurt them both.

  And I'm at a dead end, he thought. Which Craig would I look for from here—Craig Fraser or the one Elissa's neighbors knew?

  All I've found is another shadow.

  Their three rooms looked even smaller than Katherine had anticipated, and Jennifer and Todd wandered through them reminding her how great it had been to have separate rooms. "We're getting too old to be in the same room," Todd declared after dinner. "Especially Jennifer. Girls need privacy for intimate matters."

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  Katherine laughed. "Who told you that?"

  "Carrie. And Jon told me I need my own space, too."

  'They're right; we all need privacy. I sleep in the living room, remember? But we can't afford a bigger apartment yet."

  "When can we?"

  "Pretty soon, maybe. If I get my new jeweby made this month, and Mettier's customers buy it ... I guess then we could look for a place with lots of room."

  "And rooms," Todd grinned.

  *That too." Katherine began to sort the mail they had picked up from the post office that afternoon. "Here's something from school for you and Jennifer."

  "Is that all? No letters?"

  "You have to write letters to get letters.
"

  "I would, if I knew where to write."

  "Oh." Katherine put her arm around Todd and held him close. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I guess I gave up expecting a letter from Daddy a long time ago."

  "So did I, I guess," said Todd. '1 was just asking. I'll be out in front with Jennifer, OK? Mom? Is that OK?"

  "What? Oh, yes, fine. Just don't wander off; it's getting close to your bedtime." Katherine looked back at the letter she had just opened with Mettier's embossed at the top. "Dear Mrs. Fraser," she read.

  When we discussed your jewelry, I hoped we were beginning a profitable relationship. However, the recession has forced me to change my plans; like all prudent retailers, I must reduce my inventory; and since I cannot alter my relationship with trusted, long-standing suppliers, I must reluctantly withdraw my verbal offer to you of last June. I am returning your jewelry by special messenger. Please do not think unkindly of me; some day we may yet work together. With all best wishes for a successful career, I am —

  He can't do this. Katherine crumpled the letter in her hand. / was so sure I'd made a start . . . He can't . . . Of course he can; it's his store. She hurled the letter across the room.

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  Bastard. He was lying; the economy hadn't changed in two months. Anyway, Leslie had told her that Marc said people like Mettler held their customers even in bad times.

  Her thoughts racing, she held her head in her hands. He decided he didn't like my work after all. It wasn't what he wanted ... it wasn't as unusual or as good as he thought at first .. .

  That's not true!

  She jumped up and went to the kitchen and with furious energy began washing the dinner dishes. "It's not true," she repeated aloud. She remembered Mettler's face when he saw her pieces; they are good, she thought fiercely. I know they're good.

  But he knows more about jewelry than you do, a small voice said. Maybe he had reasons . . . She shook her head. I know how much I've changed; I know what I can do. Whatever happened while I was in France, I know my work is good.

  Then she thought: I shouldn't have gone to France. Maybe, if I'd been here, I could have found out why he did this, and turned it around.

  But then, I wouldn't have had a month with Ross.

  The telephone rang and, answering it, she heard his voice, distant, with static on the line. "I tried to call you this afternoon," he said.

  "We went grocery shopping and to the post office. Are you out of town? You sound so far away."

  "I am. I have a lot to tell you. I just got back from dinner with—"

  "Ross, will you be away long?"

  "I'll be back tomorrow. What's wrong, KatherineT*

  "Nothing—"

  "Something is; I can hear it in your voice."

  "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. Where did you say you are?"

  "I want to know what's bothering you."

  She gazed at her soapy hand on the telephone receiver. "Herman Mettler canceled my order."

  "Canceled—! Why?"

  "The recession, he says. I think it must be something else, but I can't imagine . . ." Her voice broke.

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  "Katherine, he can't arbitrarily cancel it. You have a contract."

  "Only verbal, as he carefully said in his letter. I never insisted on a written contract."

  "And you didn't ask Claude about it? Or any lawyer?"

  "I was going to; I just didn't think it was urgent. He was so excited, talking about where he'd advertise my work, and display it, it never occurred to me there was anything to worry about. And then Victoria invited us to France and I just forgot about it. But I wouldn't have worked all month on new designs if I didn't think we had an agreement."

  "That son of a bitch—what the hell got into him? My God, for you to come back to that . . . Katherine, dearest Katherine . . . damn it, I should be there, to help you."

  Dearest Katherine. "I'd rather just have your arms around me.

  His warm laughter seemed to fill the room. *Tomorrow. As soon as I can get a flight."

  "Ross, I haven't let you talk at all. You had something to tell me. Dinner with someone. Did you tell me where you are?"

  He laughed again. "No. I'll tell you about it when I get back. You have enough to think about right now. Katherine, could you have Jennifer and Todd looked after this weekend? I want to be with you. We'll have lots of family weekends; this time I want you to myself."

  "Yes," she said. "I'd love it. I'll see what I can do."

  "Try Victoria," he suggested. "They all had a good time together in France; she and Tobias can't spoil them too badly in one weekend."

  Her despair began to lift, and the next morning she went to Victoria and Tobias. She found them at breakfast in the sun-room. "Ah, Katherine," said Tobias, kissing her on both cheeks. "'Journeys end in lovers meeting.' I understand yours did. Sit down, have coffee with us, and tell me everything."

  Katherine flushed and glanced at Victoria. "It seems there's nothing left for me to tell."

  Victoria was unruffled. "I gave Tobias no details, since you gave me none. I did mention your wonderfully expressive face, which was radiant most of our time in France." She looked closely at Katherine. "And now it is not. What is it, my dear?"

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  Briefly, Katherine told them about Mettler's letter. Tobias began to sputter. "But—but—but—"

  "Wretch!" Victoria exclaimed. "Viper!" She cast about. "Reptile!"

  A laugh broke from Katherine. "Much more creative than I." She leaned over to kiss Victoria. "All I thought of was bastard."

  "Of course," Victoria replied. "But it is not sufficient."

  "'When angry count four,"' Tobias quoted through clenched teeth. "'When very angry, swear.' Mark Twain." He sighed. "I cannot swear in the presence of women. My mother would be proud, having drilled that into me, but it is terribly frustrating. Why did he do this? We don't really think it is the economy, do we?"

  "No," said Katherine. "Something made him change his mind about my jewelry. Maybe he decided it wasn't good enough for him after all—"

  "Poppycock!" snapped Victoria. "I shall call him this instant! He has lost my business forever . . . and my friends'—!"

  "My dear—" cautioned Tobias, his eyes on Katherine's face. "By all means stop buying from him, but beyond that . . . perhaps we should ask Katherine what she would like."

  "Katherine!" Victoria glared at him. "Katherine would not stop me!"

  "I think I would," Katherine said hesitantly. "At least for a while. I think I should talk to him, and then—keep going. I believe in my woric more than I did before—^I want to believe in it—^I want to beheve in myself. But I'm still finding out what I can do on my own. If I give in to a setback—"

  "Setback!" Victoria exclaimed. "Treachery! I shall speak to him—^I shall not allow that scoundrel a moment's peace of mind."

  Tobias sighed deeply and loudly. Victoria frowned. "Well," she said. "You think it should be Katherine's decision." He nodded solemnly. "Katherine?" Victoria asked. "You are sure of yourself?"

  "Mostly," Katherine said. "You see . . . even if he gave in, to keep you as a customer, he wouldn't be very happy with

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  me. He might put my pieces in a display case at the back of the shop, and forget them, and I wouldn't be much better off. You can't force him to be enthusiastic, however angry you are."

  "Wise Katherine," said Tobias softly.

  His praise was as warm to Katherine as Victoria's indignation. "I'll see if I can fmd out the truth," she said. "And then I'll go to some smaller shops. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to start at the top."

  "No, no, no!" Victoria punctuated each word with her fist on the table. "Always the top, never anything but the top! I will remain silent, since you and Tobias are so sure that is best for you, but you must not temper your ambitions; you must not let that donkey defeat you! Where is Ross?" she added abrupdy. "I called and his secretary said he was out of town."


  "He'll be back sometime today," Katherine said.

  "Where did he go?"

  "I don't know; he said he'd tell me when he got back." Katherine hesitated, then asked them about the weekend. "I can't leave Jennifer and Todd alone, even with Annie across the hall."

  "Alone!" Tobias exclaimed. "Of course they must come here; we'll have a delightful time . . . they can alphabetize my file cards on the Hay ward family tree."

  "No," said Victoria firmly. "They might never come again. But of course we'll take them, Katherine; they'll brighten our weekend. And a pleasant diversion is just what you need." She put her hand on Katherine's cheek. "I wish I could go with you to Mettler." She grinned like a small girl. "Give him hell, my dear."

  Walking down the steep hill, past lush purple and pink gardens cooled by silver-blue ice plants, Katherine repeated it to herself— Give him hell, my dear —smiling, to keep from knotting up inside. And so she was smiling as she walked into Metder's and climbed the spiral staircase to the balcony.

  It seemed the secretary did not know what had happened. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Fraser," she said. "He's not busy; I'll let him know you're here."

  "Don't bother," Katherine said, and swiftly reached the closed door, swung it open and walked into Herman Mettler's office.

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  He was reading a brochure on the French Riviera and looked up, fix)wmng. "Mrs. Fraser!" His face went through a series of rapid transformations. "An unexpected pleasure! What can I do for you? I am at your service, though only briefly; some customers are due to arrive at any moment . . . and due customers are better than don't, are they not?" A brief chuckle came and went. "So."

  Katherine stood near his desk. "I found your letter yesterday, when I returned from France."

  "France!" He waved the brochure. "I leave this weekend for Monte Carlo; I cannot resist the gambling. As a recent traveler, you must tell me what else I can do there."

  Vd love to, Katherine thought with grim humor, but aloud she said, "I'd rather you tell me what your letter means."