“No thank you.” He seated himself across the desk from her in the straight-back chair. “How are things at the gin?”
“Busy, chaotic, fine. But you know that. You were out there yesterday. Is there some problem, Granger?” He looked like a man on his way to the gallows. “Why did you come to see me?” Her face paled. Rink. Something’s happened to Rink.
Granger was sensitive to her rising panic. “No, no. I didn’t mean to alarm you. It’s nothing tragic.” He studied the rug beneath his chair for a moment. “It’s just that you’ve been extended an invitation and I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”
“An invitation to what?”
“An invitation to accept a plaque designating Roscoe as Citizen of the Year at the Fall Festival.”
He referred to the citywide celebration sponsored each year by the Winstonville Chamber of Commerce. Caroline couldn’t imagine herself having anything to do with the festival, nor Roscoe. “They want to give the award posthumously? Why? Why not honor someone who’s living?”
Granger scratched behind his long, droopy ear. “That’s what I asked. Not that I wasn’t honored on Roscoe’s behalf,” he rushed to add, ever loyal. “But it seems that the award committee voted on him last spring. They don’t see fit to change their minds and want you to accept the plaque at the opening ceremony of the festival.”
She stood and, wrapping her arms around her waist, went to stand at the window. It was raining, a dreary September rain. It fell heavily, despondently. Not at all like a soft summer rain that kissed and caressed naked skin even as hands and mouths did. She pressed her forehead against the cool pane of glass. Would she ever get over missing him?
His picture had been in the newspaper the day before yesterday. Steve had seen it and Laura Jane had come running to show Caroline. Another city had granted Air Dixie access to its airport, In the photograph Rink was shaking the mayor’s hand, smiling, his white teeth flashing in his dark face. His hair was falling on his forehead. She had ached to touch it, brush it back.
“You miss him, don’t you?” Granger asked quietly.
“Roscoe?”
“Rink.”
She turned. “You know?”
His basset-hound face wrinkled into a wistful smile. “I think there was something between you and Rink long before he came home. No”—he held up his hands when he saw she was about to speak—“I wasn’t fishing for details. In fact, I’m probably better off not knowing. But that day I was here for Laura Jane’s wedding and saw you two together, I was fairly certain you were in love with each other. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
She returned to her stance at the window and they were silent for a moment. “Would I be nosing in where I don’t belong to ask why he left?”
She shook her head. “You’ve always been a good friend to me, Granger. When Roscoe married me, I knew you were surprised, but you never treated me with anything less than the highest respect and courtesy. I don’t know if I ever thanked you properly for that.” She faced him again. “I thank you now. So as a friend I can tell you that there was too much antipathy between Rink and me for him to stay.”
“Namely his father.”
“Precisely his father. And my marriage to him.”
“Rink’s proud.”
“Oh, yes, I know.” She smiled. Then she looked at the attorney and said levelly, “My marriage to Roscoe was never consummated.”
“I figured that, too.”
She laughed softly. “You’re full of surprises tonight. I thought you’d be shocked.”
“I’m relieved. You were too good for him, Caroline.”
She sank back into the chair behind the desk. “He did some terrible things, the worst of which is what he did to Rink.”
“I agree.”
“You knew about all his machinations?’”
“Far more than you can count.”
“Then why did you stay his friend for so many years?”
“His attorney. Roscoe had no friends. He wouldn’t let anyone be his friend. I stayed with him partially to keep him in line. I took a lot of abuse from him, but I hate to think of what he would have tried to pull if I hadn’t watched over his business affairs.”
Caroline placed her elbows on the desk and leaned her head on her fingers, rubbing her temples. “He doesn’t deserve that award.”
“Do you want my advice?”
“Please.”
“Accept it, smiling graciously.”
“And be a hypocrite?”
“Don’t disillusion them, Caroline,” he said, speaking of the entire town. “They need their public figures to love and hate and envy and emulate. Give them what they want. For one hour, let Roscoe be what he should have been in reality.”
“I guess you’re right.”
He stood and she joined him on the other side of the desk. Arm in arm, they walked to the door. “I’ll tell them tomorrow that you’ll accept the award on Roscoe’s behalf.”
“Granger.” She paused at the door. “What would it take, legally, to sign over the deed to The Retreat to someone else?”
This time she had succeeded in shocking him. “You’re not thinking of selling it?” he asked, flabbergasted.
“No. I’m thinking of giving it away.”
He studied her face and saw the resolution there. It prevented him from prying further. As he pondered her question, he pulled on his earlobe, stretching it even longer. “The Retreat is yours to do with as you wish. I think it might have been an oversight on Roscoe’s part, but there was no stipulation that you couldn’t give it away, only that Laura Jane be allowed to live here the rest of her life.”
“I understand. This wouldn’t affect that.”
“In that case there would be no problem in your giving it away. If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
Musingly, she nodded her head. “When is the Fall Festival?”
“The third week in October. About a month away.” He placed his hand on the doorknob. “They asked for Rink’s address. I’m sure they intend to invite him.”
Her eyes flickered away from his. “Could you have a new deed drawn up by the third week in October?” When she raised her eyes again, he was smiling down on her fondly.
“You know, if it weren’t for these Lancaster men always getting in the way, I think I’d be a little in love with you myself.”
“Hey!”
Caroline stopped on the sidewalk and peered over the top of her grocery bag at the young girl who had so rudely addressed her. “Are you talking to me?”
“Aren’t you Mrs. Lancaster?”
“Yes.” The girl couldn’t have been more than twelve, but she had on garish purple eye shadow and blue eyeliner that had been applied with a heavy hand. Her dark hair had been cut to stick up from the top of her head. One earlobe had three holes pierced in it. A colored paper clip dangled from each of the holes. The other ear bore a large, glittering star. Her mouth was a slash of white lipstick.
Her clothes were as outlandish as the makeup, a green miniskirt over a pair of orange mesh hose, a white sweat shirt with a huge pair of red lips and an obscene tongue emblazoned on it. Caroline thought she must be in costume for some bizarre play. What kind of parent would allow a daughter on die streets looking like this? In any event the girl had gained her attention. “How do you know me?”
“I knew Mr. Lancaster. Rink Lancaster. But it was a long time ago. My name’s Alyssa.”
Caroline’s eyes widened in surprise. This was Marilee’s daughter, the one Rink had grown so fond of before her mother cruelly separated them. “How are you, Alyssa?”
“Okay, I guess. You were married to Rink’s old man, weren’t you?”
“To Roscoe. He died a few months ago.”
“Sure, I know that. Everybody knows that. A while back I saw you and Rink at the Dairy Mart.”
“Why didn’t you come over and speak to him?”
She shrugged insolently. “Didn’t feel lik
e it. He probably don’t even remember me.”
“Doesn’t.”
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry. I was rudely correcting your grammar.”
“That’s okay. My mama does it all the time, but it don’t… doesn’t seem to do no good.”
Caroline laughed in spite of herself. But she sobered when she cast a glance at the group Alyssa had been with, She could well imagine that peer influence was stronger than parental guidance in this case. The girls accompanying Alyssa looked like escapees from a reform school.
Caroline was immediately ashamed of herself for forming an opinion based on appearance alone. She had put labels on the girls just as people had at one time labeled her. However, when one of the girls, no older than Alyssa, lit a cigarette, she couldn’t help but be appalled.
“How is your mother?” Caroline remembered Marilee as petite and buxom, with long blond hair, china-blue eyes and a petulant pout.
“She’s got a new husband. He’s a jerk. Worse than the last one. I don’t hang around there no more than I have to.” Then, as if realizing she had revealed too much of herself, she pulled herself erect and said, “Well, I gotta be goin’.”
“Wait!” Caroline surprised herself by saying. When the girl stared at her through lashes gummed with black mascara, she was at a loss for what to say. In those overdecorated eyes she saw rebellion, suspicion and a great deal of vulnerability. It was as though a little girl was living behind the lurid mask and wanted desperately to be coaxed out. “Why don’t you come to see me at The Retreat sometime? I’d like to get to know you.”
Alyssa scoffed with a crude snorting sound. “Like hell.”
“No, really, I would.” Why Caroline persisted she couldn’t say. The girl had touched her heart in some unfathomable way. Rink would hate to see the child he had loved so lonely. If Caroline could help, she wanted to. “I’d like for us to become friends.”
The dark blue eyes wavered. “Why?”
“Because I’ve heard Rink speak of you so often.”
“Yeah? What does he say?” Her chin was tilted at a belligerent angle, but Caroline could tell she had been surprised and was interested.
“He talks about what a sweet baby you were, how much he cared for you and hated to give you up.”
“He wasn’t my daddy.”
“I know. But he loved you just the same.” The girl began to gnaw at the white painted lips and Caroline thought for a heart-stopping moment that she might cry. “Rink will be here in a few weeks for the Fall Festival. Why don’t you come out and see him?”
Her shoulders lifted in a noncommital shrug. “Maybe. I’m real busy.”
“Oh, I understand. It’s just that I think Rink would love to see you. Your mother has made mat difficult.”
Without answering, Alyssa glanced over her shoulder at her friends, who were waiting for her with growing impatience. “Look, I gotta split.”
“It was nice to meet you, Alyssa. Please think about coming to see me.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Caroline watched the girl’s slinking retreat down the sidewalk. She was a pathetic sight. Yet Caroline’s heart was lighter than it had been in weeks.
“Are you proud of me, Steve?”
“I’m always proud of you.”
Laura Jane and her husband of two months were lying together in the king-sized bed in what used to be Roscoe’s suite. The rooms were barely recognizable as such now. Caroline had redecorated them for the newly-weds’ wedding present. The wallpaper was new but still in keeping with the antebellum architecture of the house. There were new drapes on the windows, new towels and fixtures in the bathroom, new area rugs on the hardwood floors. A chaise and an easy chair with a tea table between them had replaced the rolltop desk in the sitting area.
Laura Jane snuggled closer to her husband. Idly her fingers stroked his stomach. “But I mean especially proud since I bought those things all by myself today. I got the correct change back and everything, didn’t I?”
His arm tightened around her. After two months of sleeping with her, he was almost convinced that she wouldn’t break in his embraces. “You did everything just right. I knew you could.”
He had taken her to the feed store with him. When he’d first suggested mat she handle die transaction, he had seen the trepidation in her eyes. But she had studied the bill the clerk had handed her and painstakingly counted out the correct amount of money, then waited until she had been given her change. When they’d left the store, she’d beamed up at him like a child who had done well at her first piano recital.
“I was afraid to try. I remember Rink used to take me to town. He wanted to teach me to do things on my own, but I was always afraid I’d do something wrong and he’d be disappointed in me. I wouldn’t even try.”
Steve slid his head across the pillow so he could look down at her. “You aren’t afraid of disappointing me?” He was teasing and she buried her nose in the hollow of his shoulder.
“Of course not. I want to please you more than I ever wanted to please anybody. That’s why I was willing to try my best. I know I’m not as smart as other people. I don’t ever want you to be sorry you married me.”
He rolled to his side and hugged her against him. “My darling,” he whispered into her hair. “How could I ever be sorry about that? I’ll always love you no matter what you do, or don’t do. You don’t have to earn my love, Laura Jane. You have it already. Forever.”
“Steve,” she murmured, touching his chest lightly. “I love you so much.” Sitting up, she pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the foot of the bed.
It was endearing, her lack of modesty. She was childish in her unconcern over nakedness. Because her spirit was so pure, she felt no shame about her body. Like an Eve before the apple, she was free of conscience and restraint. Such spontaneity continued to delight her husband, and he was almost ashamed of the way he enjoyed her lack of inhibition.
She had taught him something about his own body. He had hated to look at it after the loss of his leg. He had despised it. It amazed him that Laura Jane took such pleasure in his body. She continually invented excuses to touch him. Her chinalike hands soothed when he’d thought there was no healing power left on earth. She thrilled him with her curious examinations and aroused him to heights he had never known before. Each caress was a demonstration of the unselfish way she loved him. In his whole life, he had never known such care from another human being.
Now, with a quiet smile on her lips, she lay back down beside him and threw her thin arm around his waist He threaded his fingers in her long straight hair and brought her face up to receive his kiss. It wasn’t long before their hands began to wander. He caressed her back as she rolled atop him. She laid her palms on his cheeks and kissed him repeatedly on the face. Her kittenish tongue teased his ears, something she had learned from him.
She inched down his body and dropped kisses on his throat and chest. Then her lips opened over one of his nipples and she tested its texture with the tip of her tongue. He almost vaulted off the bed.
“Laura Jane,” he gasped.
“Hmmm?” she murmured, not stopping. “When you do this to me, it feels good. Doesn’t it feel good to you? If it doesn’t, I’ll stop.”
His hands tunneled through her hair and his fingers closed about her head. “No, don’t stop,” he gasped. “Not until …” He positioned her over him and with a slow, easy movement made them one.
Bracing herself on her arms, she leaned forward and placed one of her breasts against his lips. He kissed the tiny pink nipple until it pearled. His tongue curled around it. She sighed her pleasure.
The tempest inside them continued to build until he clasped her hips between his hands and strained into her. She nestled his head against her small breasts as their bodies shuddered together. Long after it was over they held each other. Then softly she kissed his forehead and lay down beside him.
“I’m glad you taught me how to make love,
” she said.
He chuckled. “So am I.”
“I wish everyone in the whole world were as happy as we are.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. No one could be as happy as I am.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her mouth.
“I wish Caroline was happy. Since Rink left, she hasn’t been happy.” Her perception should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He thought that sometimes she was more sensitive to emotions than other people. “Do you think she misses Rink?”
“Yes I do, sweetheart.”
“So do I.” She fell silent for a moment and he thought she had gone to sleep. Then she said, “I’m afraid she’s going to die like Daddy did.”
Steve caught her beneath the chin with his fingers and tilted her head up. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Caroline’s sick.”
“She’s not sick. She’s certainly not going to die.”
“Daddy used to rub his stomach when he thought no one was looking. Or he’d close his eyes like he was hurting somewhere.”
“What does that have to do with Caroline?”
“She’s doing the same things. Late yesterday evening when she came home from the gin, I was watching her from the parlor. She hung up her jacket on the coat tree and went up the first two stairs. Then she stopped and leaned over the banister. She rested her head on her hands for a long time. It looked like she couldn’t get her breath. I was just about to run and help her when she pulled herself up. It seemed to take all her energy to get to the top.” Concern marring her perfect features, Laura Jane bent over him. “Steve, she’s not going to die, too, is she?”
“No, no, of course not,” he reassured her, smoothing back her hair. “She was probably just tired, that’s all.”
“I hope so. I don’t want anyone else to die until I do. Especially you,” she said, hugging him hard. “Don’t ever die, Steve.”
He held her close and soon he felt her gentle breathing against his skin and knew she was asleep. He pulled the covers over them and continued to hold her. But he didn’t sleep. He stared into the darkness, his brow furrowed. He had been worried about Caroline, too. And what Laura Jane had told him only fed that worry.
Bitter Sweet Rain Page 21
